At the weekends we operate a ‘drop-in’ clinic, drop-in, hmm, well that’s wrong for a start as it is a clinic which has a pre-booked, appointment system, it’s held at the local birth centre where 2 community midwives staff it, today was my turn to be one of the midwives. It was depressing looking at the appointment list, 20 women and babies, 1 stretch and sweep, 1 blood pressure check and 1 antenatal examination with a query of oligohydramnios ( low levels of amniotic fluid). The midwife I would be conducting the clinic with announced that she had an appointment at another hospital right in the middle of the busy clinic, I was somewhat stressed at this revelation but luckily a colleague revealed that she not required elsewhere so she could come and lend me a hand. Just over halfway through the clinic the midwife running the birth centre announced that the woman she was caring for in labour required an ambulance transfer to the obstetric unit 15 miles away,and were there any offers to be the escort. Luckily the midwife who had gone off to an appointment arrived back at this time so there were 3 of us to choose from. Ambulances, well-equiped, often life-saving but also great wallowing vehicles so many passengers find that they suffer from a susceptibility to travel sickness therefore volunteers are often quite difficult to find. I thought about it, I’ve never been sick during a transfer, Hubby was playing golf quite close to the obstetric unit and would be finishing about the time I would need rescuing from the unit, the ambulance takes us there but then leaves us to get a taxi back, so I offered to accompany the woman. The ambulance driver asked if we should blue-light and siren, we decided on a calm drive but lights and noise through traffic and half an hour later we arrived at the obstetric unit. Mission accomplished successfully.
Hubby arrived from golf, unfortunately he had a golfing chum with him who we had to drop off before continuing to the birth centre. We had to drive past the top of our road so I asked if we could just pull into our drive so I could run in and get a biscuit, it was 3.45 pm by then, I hadn’t eaten since 7.45 and was ravenous, we then drove the 9 miles to the unit and Hubby dropped me off. I went in, helped with the last appointment, tidied up and went to leave, no car keys. Right, I had them to get in and grab a biscuit. I remembered taking them out of the front door, perhaps I had left them in Hubby’s car. Quick phonecall, no the keys weren’t there. I scoured the birth unit, we all scoured the birth unit, looked in the emergency transfer bag, no car keys. Phoned Hubby again and asked him to drive over with my spare key. By now he was convinced that I had left the keys in the front door and someone had taken them. I wasn’t so sure, I felt sure that I had had them with me when I went back into the birth centre. I was worried though, car keys, house keys, office keys, children’s house keys and Mum’s keys were all on my key ring, massive loss. I needed to pick up the entonox from our office, but it was locked, and I didn’t have the key. B****r.
One last search and there, peeking out from behind a clinical waste bin, my keys. Yeah! I phoned Hubby, not a happy man as he was nearly back with me. Whoops.
Now I’m sitting here, jumping every time the phone rings as I’m on-call for community and the birth centre, at least it’s stopped snowing though, and I’ve got the entonox.