April 2019
As I’m writing this on Mother’s Day, I picked two entries which have women and children as their theme, Don’t worry, though; there isn’t a soppy greetings card in sight!
Entry One
She sat beside the incubator, watching her baby. On her rounds the doctor spoke reassuringly. ‘I know all the equipment looks scary, but he’s responding well to treatment’. ‘Don’t worry, he’s doing great. Not long now and he’ll be off the ventilator.’ ‘Why don’t you have a break, you look tired? He’s fine.’
It didn’t seem to help. Each day she sat staring intently at the baby. He grew stronger, his skin losing its premature redness, his hair turning dark and curly. At last the doctor could say, ‘I’ve got good news for you. He’ll be moving out of intensive care tomorrow, so not too long before he comes home.’ She was sure there was still something bothering her. ‘Is there anything you want to ask me?’
Her blue eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Just tell me, doctor, I have to know. Is my baby black or white?’
Entry Two
Gwen, of the church teas fame. Gwen, secretary of the W.I. Gwen, the quiz team leader. Gwen, staunch supporter and founder member of the Book Club. Gwen, volunteer at the local history group. Gwen, from the village hall committee, Gwen, found to be propping up the bar every Friday evening in the village pub. Gwen, the “I’m a sort of nurse” care assistant. Gwen, first on the scene when the curly haired boy was flung out of the stolen MX5 roadster on the sharp corner by the stony village green.
“Move out of the way” she bellowed as others came running when the raucous car horn, blaring in the ‘on’ position, drew them from their tiny cottages.
“I said move”. She was more than forceful as she elbowed the elderly man aside.
He sighed gently. “I think it’s you who needs to move. I’m a Doctor”.
Gwen giving safety advice to the small crowd. Gwen, calling for an ambulance, taking responsibility for finding the young lad. Gwen, waiting to be interviewed by the local press. Gwen, who had only lived in the village for two years. The Doctor, still kneeling, laid a jacket over the boy’s head. Change was fast.