After the difficult delivery, Dr. Fransblau, the obstetrician, turned to Gloria, the obstetrical nurse.
“Thank God that’s over.”
Sylvia had carried Ralph for nine months–and ‘carried’ was the word. She was exhausted by the time she was wheeled into the delivery room, never mind out of it. She might as well have had a suitcase loaded with rocks along with her. All those nine months, and Ralph was the result.
“It’s over, right?”
Gloria nodded. “I’ve had two myself.”
“How’d you ever do it?”
They had not been Ralph.
In the nursery, he looked around. He glimpsed a few overhead lights and several other red, wrinkled newborns. Since conception, Ralph had put up a fight. Could he continue?
Another baby–who happened to be named Fred–was wheeled in.
Fred started crying. One of the lights flickered. Ralph had to pee.
“Get that one ready.”
That one? It was Ralph they were after. Ready? His relatives had come to Sylvia’s room.
“Look at that. Dry him up.”
Dry? And relatives, including his exhausted mother, Uncle Leo, and Aunt Edna?
It was worse than he thought.
David Sydney is a physician. He writes fiction in and outside the EHR (Electronic Health Record).