Tai Tam Tales of the Unexpected - Part 2
After the initial excitement, came the wait.
The Hospital was enormous and the ward for expectant and recent Mothers was full to capacity. The dress code (for the patients and their off-spring) was pink - this included any baby boys which led to some embarrassing exchanges with a couple of the new Mothers before I became familiar with the rules . The ward was run along strictly hierarchical lines with the ward manager - you could tell by the triangular neckwarmer (for want of a better word) worn over her uniform rather like the Matrons in the early Carry On films set in 1950's hospitals - ruling the roost. Visiting hours were strictly enforced - an hour at lunch and two hours in the evening.
Apart from its size, the Hospital boosted probably the most expensive carpark on the Island - my various visits over the course of the following week costing approximately three times as much as the cost of the actual treatment that was recieved (although admittedly the hospital fees were incredbily good value for money).
By the Sunday, the decision had been taken to usher V in to the World, and there followed a very nervous couple of hours as her Mother took her place in the queue for the operating theatre. Information was in short supply - I was not allowed to accompany them and was told to look "look out for the next trolley to pass the waiting room" as it would be my daughter. I was told to follow it down to the ICU in the lift. After a considerable wait, a trolley and three nurses came hurtling passed and, as I set off in pursuit, I was curtly informed to stay put as they wanted the Doctor to take a further look at her first.
The Hospital was enormous and the ward for expectant and recent Mothers was full to capacity. The dress code (for the patients and their off-spring) was pink - this included any baby boys which led to some embarrassing exchanges with a couple of the new Mothers before I became familiar with the rules . The ward was run along strictly hierarchical lines with the ward manager - you could tell by the triangular neckwarmer (for want of a better word) worn over her uniform rather like the Matrons in the early Carry On films set in 1950's hospitals - ruling the roost. Visiting hours were strictly enforced - an hour at lunch and two hours in the evening.
Apart from its size, the Hospital boosted probably the most expensive carpark on the Island - my various visits over the course of the following week costing approximately three times as much as the cost of the actual treatment that was recieved (although admittedly the hospital fees were incredbily good value for money).
By the Sunday, the decision had been taken to usher V in to the World, and there followed a very nervous couple of hours as her Mother took her place in the queue for the operating theatre. Information was in short supply - I was not allowed to accompany them and was told to look "look out for the next trolley to pass the waiting room" as it would be my daughter. I was told to follow it down to the ICU in the lift. After a considerable wait, a trolley and three nurses came hurtling passed and, as I set off in pursuit, I was curtly informed to stay put as they wanted the Doctor to take a further look at her first.
posted by Taitamtales at 9:55 pm
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