Post 2 Cats

              

2 Cats 

Miss Mullins has brought her pregnant cat to the emergency department where the medical staff have diagnosed an obstructed labour. They need some specialist obstetrical advice!

Dr Bill Makin picked up the telephone and asked the switchboard to put him through to St Margaret’s. It was the first time anyone had thought or perhaps dared, to seek advice from the maternity hospital on how to manage a difficult labour in a pregnant cat!  Inevitably everyone in the Casualty Department was keen to hear what was said. Unfortunately they could only hear one end of the conversation. 

“I’m sorry to trouble you twice in one evening David,” Bill said, “but I’m afraid I have another patient here. She’s pregnant for the first time and I need your advice. I’m afraid it’s a bit complex. As you probably know, I’m not an expert in obstetrical matters but I've a sneaking suspicion that this is a multiple pregnancy. The patient is in labour; probably has been for four or five hours now, and she’s started to bleed quite heavily. She’s also in a lot of pain and really doesn’t look at all well. I’m concerned about her and would be grateful if you’d take a look at her for me.”

There was a pause but those ‘ear wigging’ could imagine what was being said at the other end of the line, even though they couldn’t actually hear it.

“No, she’s not one of your patients.”

Another pause.

“I’m afraid she’s had no antenatal care whatsoever. This is the first time anybody has realised that she’s pregnant; she’s been a little secretive about it.”

There was a longer pause. “Yes, I know. Some people blame the schools, others blame the government but personally I think poor parenting has a lot to do with it. There’s no shortage of contraceptive advice available these days, is there? I’ve tried to speak to her but she’s not got a lot to say for herself. I don’t think she’s the most intelligent of patients. Probably the sort that just can’t say ‘no’.”

Another pause, shorter this time.

“No, I haven’t remonstrated with her; I’ll leave that to you. But I think I should warn you, she’s a bit woolly headed. I very much doubt that she’ll listen to reason. Her mother is with her though. She seems quite sensible and may be able to keep an eye on things in the future.”

Another pause.

“Look, David, I’m a chest physician. Anything below the belt is a ‘no go’ area for me. In my speciality, we don’t go delving or diving into deep dark holes. I wouldn’t know where to find the cervix, let alone say whether it was dilated.

Another pause.

“OK and thanks for agreeing to take her. She’s called Kitty by the way. I’m not sure what her surname is. She'll be coming by ambulance and I’ll have her with you within twenty minutes. Thanks David. It’s very good of you.”

Bill smiled as he continued to listen.

“Yes, fair enough. I owe you one. I’ll buy you a drink next time we meet. Good night and thanks again.” Then as an afterthought he added, “Oh and David, perhaps you would let me know how things turn out.”

He turned to face the group who had been listening intently to the telephone conversation. Everyone realised that he had not told his friend that the patient was a cat!

“David says he’s sick and tired of silly young girls who get themselves pregnant and then are so ashamed that they hide themselves away. They think they can cope on their own but then turn up in labour having had no antenatal care at all. When he’s sorted Kitty out, he intends to give her a good telling off.”

Bill turned to the ambulance men.

“Are you sure you’re able to take Kitty to St Margaret’s?  I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”

“Of course we’re sure,” said George. “Nobody at Ambulance Control is going to know anything about it, because it’s not going to be recorded in our log. We’ll have her there in two ticks.”

George picked up Kitty and the basket, his colleague took Miss Mullins by the arm and they started towards the door.

Miss Mullins turned, a grateful smile on her face. “Thank you all so much. You really have been most kind.”

 “It’s been a joint effort,” Bill replied, “and our pleasure. I hope all turns out well.”

Work in the casualty department continued but two hours later Miss Mullins was back. Carrying her basket with great care, she had made the return journey from St Margaret’s, albeit this time on foot. She looked overjoyed, beaming from ear to ear, bursting to tell what had happened.

“I just had to let you see.”

Gently, she placed the basket on a chair, then lifted a corner of the towel. Kitty was now lying contentedly in the basket, tenderly licking three tiny balls of fur that were snuggled up to her belly, their eyes closed. She handed sister a letter.

“This is from the doctor at St Margaret’s. He was just as kind as you were.”

Sister opened the envelope.

‘Dear Casualty Staff,’ it read.

‘You were quite right. This was indeed a multiple pregnancy; triplets in fact. But all has turned out well. As you see, mother and babies are all fine despite the lack of antenatal care. To avoid further problems, I have taken the liberty of giving Kitty’s ‘mother’ some contraceptive advice.

Kind regards,

David.’

                                                                            

  

 

 

             

 

 

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