Wednesday, 16 May 2007

Surgery Pest

I went to see my long-suffering GP again today, who I am sure thinks I am slightly unhinged. I don’t know what pregnancy/birth/baby has done to me, but before any of this, I never ever saw a doctor, about anything. However, since then, I have frequented the surgery more times than I care to remember.

My relationship with the staff at the surgery (which includes GPs, midwives, nurses, receptionists, even other patients) began on the happiest day of my life, 31st March 2006.

I was standing in my classroom, during an open-day, chatting to a heavily pregnant parent about how broody I was feeling, when suddenly I went weak in the legs and felt dizzy. That was the moment, whilst the parent was telling me not to rush into it and enjoy being married, that I knew. I phoned Tom, and said: ‘I think we’ve bloody well done it, I think I’m pregnant!’ To which Tom replied: ‘I think you are too, in fact I knew from the moment of conception when you woke me up in the middle of the night and told me that you could see little animals in our bedroom dancing in the moonlight.’ He said he thought that was unusual behaviour, even for me, and realised something must be happening to me. I decided we would make an appointment with my GP the following morning, so that he could confirm whether we were right or not. I was too scared to pee on a stick in my own bathroom. For a reason I can’t really understand or explain, I needed to see a doctor.

The following morning, we arrived at the surgery half an hour early. Tom and I sat in the waiting room in silence, after I had barked at him and told him to shut up after he asked me why I hadn’t just peed on a stick. Eventually the doctor called me in. I asked Tom to stay in the waiting room because I was still feeling annoyed with him. I sat down opposite the doctor and started crying. ‘I think I might be pregnant,’ I wailed. He gave me a sympathetic look and said something like: ‘Oh dear, what makes you think that?’ ‘I am two days late and I saw dancing animals in my bedroom two weeks ago.’ He looked bemused and told me that I shouldn’t start fretting just yet. I quickly put him right and told him that it would be the most amazing thing in the world if I were pregnant. So he did a test and we sat there in silence for what seemed like hours waiting for the result. He eventually picked up the stick, examined it for a ridiculously long time, looked somewhat surprised, and gave me the best words I had ever heard: ‘Well...it is positive’. I started crying again, ran out into the waiting room, grabbed Tom, unable to speak, and hauled him into doctor’s consultation room. After a brief talk we left the surgery armed with leaflets, not before the doctor shook Tom by the hand and said: ‘Well done son’. This is the day that my beautiful relationship with the surgery started. I was four weeks pregnant.

From then on, I found myself at the surgery, probably fortnightly, bending some medical professional’s ear with all sorts of ridiculous, sometimes imaginary ailments… bump is too small; bump is too big; bump is wrong shape; bump not moving enough; Tom can’t hear baby heartbeat through toilet roll tube; I accidentally ate a prawn etc.

And there I was today, at the surgery, waiting for my appointment. Actually it was Betty’s appointment but I decided she didn’t need to be there so left her at home with Tom. The doctor came out and called for Betty. I jumped up and said ‘I’m not Betty, but I am here to discuss Betty.’ To which he cracked half a smile and ushered me in. He then listened patiently while I talked urgently about Betty’s constipation. He wearily informed me that there was nothing he could do without her actually being there, and kindly suggested that next time I should bring her along too. I agreed, and then asked him if he’d mind quickly looking at a blister on my foot.

When I got home I mentioned to Tom that the doctor was looking very tired and pale. Tom asked me how he had seemed before my appointment. I laughed, but Tom was looking serious.

12 comments:

peachy said...

aahhh you are a first time mum, you are allowed to be over cautious! you will be completely different with the next baby. love the blog. made me laugh out loud!

jenny said...

Oh dear! I was totally the opposite with my pregnancy. I felt like I wasnt even pregnant at all, but do you know how I found out? I was a nanny for a little while, helping out a friend with her own horrible pregnancy and taking care of her kids so she could lie in bed, sick as a dog, poor girl. Anyways-- Here I was taking care of her two children and one day, her boy (he was 3 at the time) squeezed my boob and said "baby!" I put him down quickly and admonished him for touching my boob like that. His mom happened to see that and she said, "I bet youre pregnant." Wouldn't you know it, I missed my period, went to the doctor and sure enough, I was pregnant. From the mouths of babes.

My first two pregnancies hardly felt like anything was happening to me, my belly was growing, but that was about it. 3rd pregnancy was another story. I think I'll turn it into a post later on.

Anyways-- Betty will be fine, and so will you! Never mind your Tom and GP, if it makes you feel better, then by all means, go get checked out.

Elsie Button said...

Hi Jenny, thanks for this. that's amazing - clever boy! the bizarre thing with me was, i had a completely easy pregnancy - there was never actually anything wrong!

DJ Kirkby said...

Hi again. This post made me laugh, and cringe. laugh 'cos I found out i was pregnat the same way, tho I did the test at home.. 4 times as I refused to believe the extremly faint line I saw. Your post made me cringe 'cos I am a midwife and it makes me sad that some of us make women feel the way you did. The majority of us are fairly normal, I promise. Did you ever get to see your named midwife?

Elsie Button said...

hi there - my named community midwife was absolutely amazing! she was so brilliant that i want to have the next baby at home so that she will be able to deliver it. she was so supportive and competent and was always on the end of the phone if i had any worries (and because i was so crazy i had loads!) i think midwives do an amazing job, i really do (and i'm not just saying that because you are one). Did you watch that programme the other night on panorama - midwives uncovered? the conditions that they (you?) have to work in are appalling - no equipment, short-staffed etc. It is such an important job, i totally admire you all (even the skimpy denim shorts wearing ones!)

DJ Kirkby said...

I did not have time to watch the programme and from what I hear it would have been really distrubing to watch! (Check my blog out for recent update on staffing angst). P.S. none of my staff wear skimpy anything! Lol, that bit was too funny, you MUST have made that up!We have a uniform policy that covers event hose staff who dont wear uniforms, such as my team!P.P.S. you are so NOT crazy! I worried about every spot number 3 son had and if I can do it then I expect everyone else to do the same...

Anonymous said...

beatrix potter here, did a spot of widwifery out in the field once, don't recomend denim shorts at all, all in one jump suit much more suitable, oh and put the hoe down first

Anonymous said...

...oh sorry, i forgot to use my code name...it's beatrix raincoat really, please don't tell anyone elsie...

The Good Woman said...

I was pregnant in Zambia - a surreal experience that involves monthly appointments with a gynae - forget midwives! But as there is little in the way of emergency care and that they have to medivac you to South Africa if anything is wrong, I suppose it makes some sense.

I'm not oo into doctor visits to this day. But my two year old can say 'hypochondria' which may be telling.

Love your blog by the way...

darth sardonic said...

this one cracked me up! i remember our first, we were like this too.

Sparx said...

LOL, this made me laugh a lot - and wince in sympathy. Your candour is brilliant!

Beccers said...

I love the bits about the midwife, they're hilarious. And he animals in the bedroom thing. How weird!