At my recent appointment with my midwife we were going through the routine question and answers.
“How are you?”
“Are you feeling the babies?”
“I can feel them a little bit now.”
“And do you feel better now that you’re on iron tablets?”
This was a loaded question.
“No! I’m constipated!” I cried. Relieved (in one way) to hopefully, finally get some help.
“Would you like some Lactulose for that?”
“Oh yes please!”
So we continued through the appointment and when we were done the midwife accompanied me to the surgery’s dispensary, tucked away to one side of the main (big) waiting room. I waited while she arranged for my new best friend to be dispensed and she came out, handed me my notes and told me it wouldn’t take long.
So I waited in the waiting room.
The main (big) waiting room.
With lots of other people also waiting.
Until a lady at the dispensary called over to me not very quietly, “Are you the lady waiting for the lactulose?!”
Oh good golly, thanks for that!
Aware that eyes were now quite possibly all looking in my direction I answered, “Yes, why? Do I look it?” and walked over towards her.
Very flustered and red-faced she blusteringly apologised, tripping over her words.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, you were the only one I could see so I thought… I thought it must be you… not that you look like you need Lactulose, I mean… I couldn’t see any other pregnant ladies… who might…you know….need…”
She was embarrassed. I was wondering who behind me in the waiting room was aware that my iron tablets and I were not living in harmony.
Sometimes discretion is the key. Sometimes when you don’t get discretion, it helps to be ready with an answer. Remember that.