It was such a merry sight. Ladies with bulging bellies stood everywhere, eyes looking blank, waiting for their turns. Small children ran here and there, screaming and yelling things only children knew how to. Nurses seemed to hover everywhere in their starched white attires, looking dignified and unapproachable. Yes, I was quite terrified at this point.
I registered my name and address. The nurse asked me to wait, she said she'd call me when the time came. She looked solid and dependable, but perhaps, slightly uncaring. This was a routine for her. She just wanted things to get over with. As soon as possible.
"Mrs. Primadonna Angela!" she called, after a few minutes went by. I looked at my partner, the look that lambs gave before their slaughter.
"You'll be fine," he hugged me briefly.
So I went into a cubicle. A nurse asked me to remove my shoes before stepping on a scale. She muttered a number I couldn't catch then asked me to sit down for she wanted to measure my blood pressure. She then asked a couple of questions.
Nurse: Is this your first pregnancy?She called another name. A woman in her mid-thirties came. With her came a baby suckling on her right breast. A child about three or four years old came dangling beside her, complaining, "Mom, I'm tired!"
Me: Yes.
Nurse: Ever had miscarriage before?
Me: (fighting the urge to give a caustic and witty reply) No.
Nurse: Good. Please wait a moment. We'll call your name in a few minutes. Then you can see the doctor.
Faintly I could hear the nurse questioning the woman.
Nurse: Is this your first pregnancy?God! The nurse just asked the same questions to every patient, without bothering to notice obvious things! It must be tough being a nurse, I concluded while walking towards my Quisalas. I wonder what the doctor's questions might be...
Woman: Of course not!
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