The Waiting Room
When Pain Meets Indifference
At the hospital front desk, I leaned against the counter with one hand under my belly.
“Please,” I said quietly. “I’m having severe pain. I’m thirty-two weeks pregnant.”
The receptionist asked for my insurance card.
Then she looked past me at Gail.
“Is the father here?”
“No,” I answered. “He’s out of town.”
Gail gave a dry little laugh.
“Oh, she gets worked up over everything,” she said. “She’s sensitive.”
I stared at her.
“I’m not worked up,” I said. “I’m in pain.”
The receptionist’s expression shifted into that polite, tired look people wear when they’ve already decided you’re dramatic but not urgent.
She handed me a clipboard.
“Fill these out and take a seat. Labor and delivery is backed up.”
I could barely hold the pen.
The Dangerous Dismissal
“She Has a Low Pain Tolerance”
The cramps kept getting worse.
They weren’t rhythmic like contractions. They were deep, chaotic, and wrong.
“I think something is happening,” I whispered to Gail.
“If you act hysterical,” she snapped, “they’ll take you even less seriously.”
A nurse walked by with paperwork. I told her I thought my water might be leaking.
Before she could respond, Gail jumped in.
“She’s been Googling symptoms for months,” she said. “Every cramp means tragedy to her.”
The nurse nodded slightly and moved on.
Then Gail leaned toward the desk and said loudly enough for the entire waiting room to hear:
“She has a very low pain tolerance.”
continued on next page
For complete cooking times, go to the next page or click the Open button (>), and don't forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.