Todayit will be 6 weeks since Alice was born. 6 long weeks, 6 short weeks, 6 sometimes unbearable weeks. So much has happened and sometimes it feels like yesterday and other days it feels like last year.
For the most part I am fine and can talk about Alice without crying. But then there are times when I have no control over the tears or the quivering voice. Like at the gym when I was having my assessment 'have you been in hospital lately?' or yesterday at the review with the OB. Yesterday I think yesterday I was flipping between the controlled, sensible woman asking detailed medical questions and the distraught mother unable to speak.
The OB review was not all we had hoped. We were waiting on more test results that would ultimately answer some more questions about Alice. There were no answers. It doesn't look like they actually asked the questions. So we left sad and disappointed and admittedly a little cross.
The doctor said some things that perhaps he shouldn't have. He realised that and seemed to overly clarify his comments once my husband returned to the room. Nothing to kick up a din about but enough to confirm in my mind that many doctors have very poor communication and people skills. I have good friends that are doctors and my ex is a specialist now. My best friend and housemates from Uni are doctors. I am admire doctors in the same way I admire nurses and ambulance officers and judges and teachers and police officers. I respect them all because they have important, stressful and at times very difficult jobs. I appreciate that doctors are busy and that they have to remember a lot of things and have the awful job of telling people that they are dying or that their babies are dead. But I do not sit in awe of their position or their perceived status or take on their every, single word as being right.
Sometimes they are not right, sometimes they say the wrong things and sometimes they forget to ask the questions.