Having agonized for a week about which hospital and Doctor to select, I eventually select Dr. Brown. He practices out of a good local hospital and they have free parking.
‘Hello, I’d like to book an appointment with Dr. Brown. I’m due in November,’ I smile proudly at how organized I sound. ‘November this year?’ comes the disinterested reply. ‘Ahm, yes, this year’ I confirm slightly confused. ‘I’m sorry Dr. Brown is booked out for the next two years’, she cackles without the slightest trace of empathy.
Stunned silence follows. ‘Hang on just a cotton-pickn’ moment. You’re telling me that you have no free slots for two years? I was under the impression that it only takes 9 months to produce the child door to door, so to speak. Now, I’m 4 weeks pregnant – tops and you’re telling me I’ve missed the boat ….Already???? ‘I boom incredulously. ‘That’s sooo unfair. For once I’ve not dilly dallied [my nickname is Dillydally Daisy]. How do others get a slot? Seriously. Do they have a bath, shave their legs, slap on a bit of lippie and phone their obstetrician …just in case they get lucky in some nightclub and meet the man of their dreams who they just might decide is ‘The One’ and settle down with three years from now? Is that how it works.
‘I’ll tell you what, ’she whispers conspiratorially. ‘If Dr. Brown gets a cancellation, I’ll call you straight back.’ The next day she calls me back. Dr. Brown can’t take me but his colleague Dr. Slaphack can. We’re in. ‘Great, thanks’ I put the phone down and it dawns on me what she meant by a ‘cancellation’.
It’s coming home to me that this little life is fragile and …oh I don’t even want to think about it.
No comments:
Post a Comment