Post 95 In desperate need of contraceptive advice

 Dr Julie Smith was coming to the end of a busy family planning clinic.    During a long and tiring day,

she had discussed the merits of contraceptive pills, caps, condoms, coils, implants and surgery over and over again.   She feared the disenchantment she felt might become apparent to her patients, or clients, as her boss insisted they be called.  She gained little satisfaction from her job. 

 Five years previously, she had aspired to become a consultant gynaecologist but now married, she was forced to settle for work that paid the mortgage, enabled her to run her home, and care for her two

young children.    In the course of the afternoon, she had seen silly girls, sensible girls, worried women, wanton women, and even a couple of garrulous grannies. Grannies are getting younger, and younger these days, she thought. 

She looked at her watch; 5:15 pm.   Just one more patient to see and then she could drive home and organise the children’s tea.   

Dr Julie looked up from her notes as the door opened.   A shadow of a woman entered the room and

offered her a weary smile.    She appeared to have lost all pride in her appearance.    Her clothes were shabby and ill-fitting, her eyes tired, her face lined, her hair prematurely grey, and her hands, with their thick, calloused skin, spoke of long hours of hard work.    She looked exhausted and without waiting to be asked, sat down with a grateful sigh on the chair at the side of the doctor’s desk.

‘Am I glad to see you, Doctor.’   It was a statement rather than a question. ‘You know, I should have come years ago. Still better late than never, I suppose!’ she continued.

‘Is it Elsie Williams?’ Dr Julie asked, glancing at her list of appointments.

‘That’s right, Elsie Williams of Rishworth Road, Bermondsey.’

She looked not a day less than forty, though her notes stated she was only 31.

Dr Julie liked to start the consultation with an open question, which allowed her an early insight into her patient’s concerns and expectations.

‘So what can I do for you?’ she asked.

‘I need to stop having any more babies!’ Elsie said frankly.

‘Well, that’s what I’m here for,’ Dr Julie replied, forcing her voice to sound more cheerful than she felt.    ‘How many children do you have?’

‘Six.’

‘Wow – you have been a busy girl, haven’t you?    And are they boys or girls?’

‘They’re all boys, and I really need to put a stop to it before I have a complete football team.’

‘Boys are hard work.   You must have your hands full, especially if you’ve got six of them.’  Dr Julie responded, thinking how busy she was just having two little ones to cope with.

‘And how old are they?

‘My eldest is ten, and the latest arrival is just six months.    And truly, with all the cleaning, washing, ironing, and cooking, I’m fair worn out, Doctor.’

‘I’m sure you must be. And what have you called them all?’

‘Dave.’

‘And the others?’

‘They’re called Dave as well.’

There was a pause in the conversation while Dr Julie tried to digest this curious piece of information.

‘But isn’t that a bit confusing for them, all being called by the same name?’

‘Not at all, Doctor.    If they’re arguing or fighting amongst themselves, as boys do, I just shout ‘Dave – stop it’ and the trouble stops.    Or, if I want to call them in for a meal, I shout ‘Dave – tea’s ready’, and they all come running.    It works very well, and it’s so simple.’

Dr Julie was puzzled. ‘Yes, that’s all very well, but suppose you just want to call one of them, perhaps because he’s got a dental appointment.’

‘Well, Doctor, in that case, I just call him by his surname!’

My God, Dr Julie thought, this woman doesn’t need contraception, she needs sterilisation.

                                                                                           *************

Thought for the day

 A quick word about contraception; I asked a girl to go to bed with me and she said ‘no’.    

Woody Allen 1935 -      

For further details of Peter’s novels and collections of short stories, search for ‘Peter Sykes’ on Amazon Books

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