Jordan was a few days old, not yet received the formal diagnosis from the test results, otherwise healthy, but a bit jaundiced, so was in hospital for sunlamp treatment. We were having a great chat with the young doctor, a German junior houseman, when some self-important bloke with a white coat strode into the room and cut right into the conversation, no introductions, never set eyes on the man in my life, machine gun style. Obviously a consultant, and a bossy one at that. As soon as I could get a word in edgeways, I interjected (directed to the young houseman) with the ever-so-slightly loaded aside: Excuse me, but I dont think you have introduced your colleague? You could have cut the air with a knife. The consultant couldnt think of a suitable jovial riposte, so he whisked himself off before his blushes became too obvious, and, on the way out, glancing into the sun-lamp incubator where my newborn baby son was soaking up the rays oblivious to all the drama, commented snidely: Looks like Downs Syndrome to me!!! I creased with laughter: it was just so naff and classic, like something out of a Hattie Jacques low-life Carry On script.
Posted on: Wed, 23 Apr 2014 22:41:07 +0000
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