Doctor, doctor, spare me the news

“Vaccinations can be lethal. They can kill,” my GP said as he prepped Li’l Fatty for his first shots.
I stared at him. I mean, I knew my baby wasn’t going to die, but I couldn’t believe he was airing the possibility.
But then, you haven’t met my doctor – let’s call him Dr Dread.
We were in for Li’l Fatty’s first check up and vaccinations.
Near retirement age, Dr Dread’s an old-fashioned GP who loves to relay stories of near-miss or downright tragedy, stories often prompted by the very condition you’re there to see him about.
Li’l Fatty was duly injected before Dr Dread turned his attention to the check up.
“I remember, back in the day, a woman coming in with her baby for its first check up,” he said.
“Not long after that, she drowned it.
“Having a baby can do strange things to some people.”
I nodded, looking at Li’l Fatty and wondering how anyone could so such a thing.
He measured Li’l Fatty’s head.
“Back in my obstetrics days, we didn’t do ultrasounds then you see, this woman went into labour,” he said, popping Li’l Fatty’s measurements on to a chart.
“The head was so big, it got stuck. The baby died and we had to crunch its head in to get it out.”
Did he just say ‘crunch its head in?’ I thought, trying to blink back tears as I stared at Li’l Fatty’s giant melon.
Satisfied with Li’l Fatty, Dr Dread turned his attention to me and my postnatal examination.
“Have you been doing pelvic floor exercises?” he asked, preparing for the internal.
“Yes,” I replied cautiously.
“My neighbour’s wife did pelvic floor exercises too early after delivery,” he said, shaking his head.
“Air went up her vagina and into her brain. She had a stroke. Died.”
I gritted my teeth as he exposed my innards to the elements.
You’re probably wondering why I chose this half-glass-full kinda bloke?
Well, I first met Dr Dread when I took a very sick then-Master Four to see him and found him more thorough than any other doctor I’ve had.
Weary of doctors who simply make you say ‘ahhh’ and then prescribe antibiotics, I knew this was the doctor for me.
Anyway eventually it was time for Li’l Fatty and I to go.
I bade Dr Dread farewell and headed out the door, happy that at least two of his patients had made it out alive.


5 thoughts on “Doctor, doctor, spare me the news

  1. Oh My Ali! That is terrible. I hate immunisations at the best of times. I don’t care how thorough, I would not be back to Dr Dread. One needs confidence building, not devastating. Makes Learner Dad seem like a breeze. xx

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