It Shouldn't Happen to a Midwife! (22 page)

Margaret couldn't resist it. ‘Goodness, haven't you got them already? I've had mine for ages but if you like I could come and help you.' Her laugh was easy and designed to annoy.

‘I sometimes wonder if I'm dealing with adolescents or grown women,' said Miss Harvey with a heavy sigh.

There was the same problem in the antenatal clinic as our class checked in at the same time as our arrivals. A pretty young girl came first, closely followed by a similar version, if faded, a bit crumpled, and carrying fully loaded shopping bags.

‘Have you come to help your daughter?' I asked, searching around for a seat and somewhere to put her stuff.

‘No. She's here for her first but I'm a regular. I've come for a checkup on my twelfth.' Patting her coat, she sounded preoccupied and more interested in checking the bags.

Taking in our conversation, Annie, the clinic midwife, said, ‘Maybe you could look after Mrs Quinn. Take her details. She doesn't need to be hanging about. She'll need to get back to her kids. Let her get the weight off her feet on that chair there.' She pointed to one at a row of desks where Seonaid had already settled and was beckoning to Mrs Quinn's daughter.

We took the one beside her. Seonaid was patting the case note files stacked before her as if she couldn't wait to get started. Taking up most of the desk space was a line up of blood pressure machines, test tubes and enough syringes to stock a factory. Unfazed, our patients waited their turn, chatting amongst themselves as if at a village pump, whilst those heading for the desks seemed completely relaxed.

Mrs Quinn, however, wasn't up for giving either chat or her medical history.

‘Every time I come here, I get asked the same question,' she complained as we ploughed through a questionnaire dealing with everything but intended holiday plans. ‘And no, sure I don't remember the date of my last period. I don't think there's been one since she was born and she was my first.' She nodded at her daughter.

I looked across. Seonaid and her patient seemed to be having an animated conversation. How come, I wondered, they had so much to speak about with only one intended pregnancy when here we were in multiple numbers struggling to fill the boxes.

‘Twins in the family?' I asked.

Mrs Quinn consulted her shopping as if it were an abacus.

‘Two sets.'

There was a burst of laughter beside us. I felt I was letting Mrs Quinn down in terms of jokey asides but two sets of twins was a sobering prospect. It couldn't have been easy getting here, and how on earth did my patient look so tidy?

I was full of admiration for her stoic calm. I blew a strand of hair to clear my vision and squinted down at her feet. Observation was one of the key skills Miss Hardie had harped on about and ankles were a good barometer.

Those neat ones with their feet shod in polished leather promised fair weather, not to mention an ability to walk on water, whilst at a higher level her face was miraculously full of purpose and life.

Dr O'Reilly appeared but not even his good looks and charm made her blood pressure anything but normal.

‘Ah! Another of my regulars,' he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘I'll be having a look at that bump of yours once the nurse here's weighed you.'

Maybe she was used to always being lumbered one way or another or the shopping bags carried something important but, even without clothes and about to be weighed, Mrs Quinn took them with her onto the scales.

Relieving her of them I said, ‘I think your daughter's ready to go now. Could she take those with her?'

‘Surely, but tell her to get them to Sadie right away. She's my neighbour . It's her shopping but so run over with children she's no time to do it.'

‘She must be glad she's got an organised friend and, as for your daughter, an experienced Mum must be a boon.' I was full of admir- ation.

‘Ah now, she learnt it all at her mother's knee a long time ago.' The tone was practical whilst she adjusted the headscarf she'd refused to remove. ‘But I'll be telling her,' she pulled the scarf ends into a very tight knot, ‘to be sure and train her husband better than I ever did mine.' She swung onto the examination couch with lithe ease.

‘Quite right,' said Dr O'Reilly, ‘and maybe I could have a word with him too. But in the meantime, d'you mind being a guinea pig for Nurse Macpherson? Her tutor tells me she's needing a bit of practice before her clinical exam, so I need to lead by example.' He made a great show of rubbing his hands. Then, once they were suitably warmed, he smiled and said, ‘Perfect temperature. I wouldn't want cold ones making you leap off the couch. I'll go first shall I?'

‘Help yourself.' Mrs Quinn settled back as if she was being offered four-star accommodation whilst Dr O'Reilly investigated her bump with his thermally correct hands. ‘Interesting,' he pronounced, eventually stepping back. ‘What d'you think, Nurse?'

There was quite a lot to look at. Then, putting a hand on her abdomen, even more to feel. It took me ages but I got the impression that Mrs Quinn was housing a tenement full of busy residents.

‘Well?'

Our patient, perhaps absolved from the responsibilities of parcel minding or probably from the length of time I was taking, had dozed off.

‘Double trouble?' I whispered, wanting neither to upset nor wake her.

‘Right!' He nodded approvingly. ‘But there's only one sure way to find out. I don't want to worry her. I mean there's two sets of twins already so just tell her we're trying to find out how far on her pregnancy is. You'll need to take her down to the X-ray department. Once done, be sure and come back with the films quickly. We don't want to hold back a busy mother. Don't mention twins until we know for sure. Wake her up, but gently now. If we tell her about twins she might have a canary.'

‘As well as or instead of?' I asked, delicately shaking our patient awake.

The X-ray department was nearby in a small unit on its own but apparently connected by telephone to the General Hospital. Two receivers sat on the reception desk beside a small hand-written notice that said, ‘In the absence of a radiographer phone two-three-twozero .'

Refreshed by her little snooze Mrs Quinn wandered over to some randomly-placed chairs and started to marshal them into rows. As I lifted the phone and dialled I wondered if she was counting them.

‘Do you do X-rays for the Maternity?' I asked when someone answered the phone.

‘I'm not sure. Just hold the line.'

There was a short pause then the second phone rang. I picked it up and, the other one being occupied, put it to my left ear.

‘Maternity X-ray department,' I said, to which came back a familiar voice. ‘We've just had a caller asking if we do X-rays for Maternity. But we don't, do we?'

‘I'm not sure,' I said, aware I was repeating her response to my original question.

I was now as confused by having a telephone at each ear as I was conversing to the same person on two phones. Any moment now she was going to come back to me on the other line. Maybe I should disguise my answering voice. That would fool her!

‘Phone two-three-two-zero and they'll keep you right,' were the instructions.

I must have dialled the wrong number.

I'd have liked to apologise but she'd put down her phone. I should have done that too. I'd have avoided the radiographer. She was back, plainly from a fag break and was curious to know why both telephones were being commandeered, and by a mere nurse.

Mrs Quinn thought so too. ‘Maybe you shouldn't leave silly scraps of paper with squiggly figures on it. They're not one bit clear. The poor wee nurse has been all but phoning herself. She must've thought she was talking to a fool.' She lined up pencils on the desk and, squaring a notepad beside them, stepped back to admire her handiwork . ‘Now! That's better.'

The radiographer seemed mollified and chuckled. ‘The numbers are there to get a radiographer over here. I was only out for a minute but already you've got the place tidied up. It hasn't been so orderly since your last visit, Mrs Quinn. Now let's see if you're as tidy inside.'

Dr O'Reilly took the X-ray films and held them up to the light.

‘Uh-huh.'

‘What news then, Doctor?' Mrs Quinn asked, trying to get a look.

He looked apologetic and held up two fingers.

‘Ach, Doctor, is it not me that's had the practice?' she said, brow clearing and showing a rare glimmer of humour. ‘You had me worried for a while. Did you not know I'd be having twins? I could have told you that already.'

Margaret looked as if she was heading The Glums' Club. Even Marie, our usual Captain Doom and sitting beside her, looked marginally cheerier.

Close enough to be within earshot, I muttered to Seonaid, ‘That pair look as if it's the end of the world. Who'd want to bring gloom sitting in this nice sunny dining room? Look, I'm starving. Let's sit somewhere where they won't put us off our food. Having exams so close as well, I'd like to be some place more cheerful.'

But I was too late. Already Seonaid was skipping towards their table.

‘So what's the craic? Youse look as if you're going to a funeral.'

Margaret was usually a stickler for etiquette. Now she was slumped across the table, crumbling a piece of bread over her plate and idly mopping it up with a huge chunk of butter.

‘Ach, Seonaid, you were right about that oulde Matron after all. She's a heartless woman. Not a bit of compassion in her whole body.' Carelessly and with the back of her hand, Margaret wiped her buttery chin.

What more proof could there be that something was wrong?

‘And sure Margaret only meant to help.' Marie was as defensive as if we were already arguing. ‘And it was only about safety, wasn't it?'

‘It was Brian, actually.' At least using his name perked Margaret up a little. She straightened up, righting her shoulders. ‘I was sure I should tell Matron he thought that having an oxygen cylinder tied to the back of a bike might be dangerous. And being a policeman, he should know.' Her sniff was profound. ‘I thought she might be grateful for a safety tip.'

I thought Margaret should either have her head examined or get a medal for bravery whilst Seonaid wondered aloud if it was any old bike or was Brian talking specifics.

‘District ones of course,' snapped Margaret. ‘That's what the guard at the back's for. The basket in the front's for our black bags, and Brian thinks even they could make experienced cyclists wobble about.' Her large capable hands gave an exaggerated wiggle.

‘If we need oxygen I'd think we were in trouble,' I said. ‘I didn't think Belfast was that hilly. I'd hope to manage without any help, and won't we need baskets to put the babies in? I mean we are supposed to be delivering them aren't we?'

‘Ah, Jane! You're teasing us.' Marie was reproachful. ‘The oxygen's not for us – it's in case the babbies need it, and you must see how upset Margaret is. You're not helping with your wee jokes.'

‘Never mind.' Seonaid pointed as Cynthia in full sail swept towards us. ‘Here comes Happy Legs. She's bound to cheer us up.'

‘Dear God! She's all I need,' moaned Margaret.

‘I've something to pass on,' declared Cynthia, sitting down, expanding her chest and readying for an announcement, but Margaret, eyes blinking, excused herself and hurried away.

Cynthia looked after her in exasperation. ‘Honestly! She's going to miss my news and it's important. Anyway, what's wrong with her?'

Marie gulped. ‘Matron's after telling her it's probably best she leaves after sitting First Part. She says she's always worrying about something and now Matron's had enough of her moans and troubles. She's a busy woman with a hospital to run, without nurses, never mind policemen, coming to tell her how to run it.'

Coming from Marie, this, without a mention of God, made an impressively strong statement.

‘That woman's determined to get rid of us all,' sighed Seonaid. ‘You'd have thought Margaret would be her star pupil. Responsible and all.'

Cynthia was finding it hard to be gracious. ‘So much for always popping in to have a chat. Speaking personally, I've always found one's best to keep one's superiors at arm's length.'

Torn between thinking Brian might have a point and wondering how we could filch an oxygen cylinder to do a practice bike run with one on board, I went for the usual put down. ‘Does one indeed!'

‘Yes, and anyway Margaret can do Second Part somewhere else. There's lots of choices. I've actually got a friend joining us to do hers here. I'm looking forward to it. She's quite a card and …' Cynthia twitched her nose as if this was a strange concept, ‘rather good fun. Actually we're thinking of moving into a flat. Get away from that awful woman MacCready, and before I forget, that's what I've to tell you.'

Looking round as if she wanted a bigger audience, she drummed her fingers on the table in exasperation. ‘Margaret's just missed this bit of news. A pity. She'll not expect to find men fumigating her room.'

‘Men!' Marie's scream had perfect pitch.

‘Why?' Seonaid asked, beginning to show more interest.

‘I just mentioned to her I'd delivered a woman covered in lice. I'd wondered why she was wearing a cap, but she was delivering so quickly I didn't have time to put one on myself. I just asked MacCready if she had any insect repellent in case,' Cynthia shuddered , ‘any had landed on me.'

‘And had they?' Already I felt my skin crawling.

‘Of course not! But of course
she
carried on as if I'd brought infestation to the entire Home and to our floor in particular. As I speak, she's on red alert with everything, but men are coming to fumigate our rooms and, get this, they could well be wearing breathing apparatuses .'