Hands of Time

We all have those moments when the past reaches out and touches us. Sometimes the memory is painful and we hastily brush it aside. Other times we smile and put our head to one side whilst we pause to recall. On occasion the past stands in front of us and will not be ignored. At such moments we are suddenly aware of the fact that TIME passes and we look up to see how the years have fared..

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That the woman was pregnant was NOT in doubt. Her belly was in danger of busting open right there in the ER room of A&E as the kicks and movements of the baby confined within displayed a yearning desire to rid itself of the barrier that held back the life that was yet to be.

The Mother-to-be grunted in pain from another source. She had been a sufferer of rheumatism for some years and had not really expected that one day this, ‘Miracle that was Life’, would be something she could experience. But her delight was self-evident and she stroked her belly trying to soothe the rage within. Her hands had become at the age of thirty two, something that she now referred to as claws but she used them to great effect as she talked to the baby and continued to stroke her swelling.

Sister explained to me that we needed to get her over to the Labour Ward where she could have her baby in the proper surroundings of a specialist unit. She had been admitted because of an almost severed toe. Alice, the Mum-to-be, had dropped a pair of kitchen scales through her hands and they had landed on her toe which though broken, was now the least of her worries. The loss of blood perhaps or the trauma of the excitement had brought on the immanent arrival of baby who, despite the eye-catching evidence of the swollen belly was not in fact due for three weeks!

Whilst we waited for her notes to be written up I stood and chatted with Alice. She held onto my hand and I tried in my way to reassure her. Truth to tell though, she was calmer than me, if perhaps a little excited that she was going to have her baby at last. We got on well, she told me all about herself and I responded in kind by telling her about me. We swapped tales of gardening and cooking and shared in the moment by being friends in what is after all a rather hostile place – A Hospital.

To get to the Labour Ward from A&E was quite a long trek. Corridors, lift up three floors, more corridors, a link-bridge to the Maternity Unit, another corridor, a lift down one floor and the final corridor to the Labour Ward itself… The warm coloured paintings on the wall, the soft music that played in the lobby area, the big-hearted laugh of the Ward Sister gave an immediate feeling of calmness as we wheeled Alice into room one. Light and airy with minimal furnishing it could have been cold and clinical but instead held an almost Zen approach and everyone breathed easier for being there. Sister Rose, who hailed from the West Indies had been in charge of the ward for more years than anyone cared to remember, she WAS the Labour Ward. All others bowed to her knowledge and common-sense approach to the delivery room.

Alice asked if I would stay. Her husband was a salesman and was somewhere in Leeds at the moment, though following a phone call he was more than likely to be halfway down the motorway by now; And she would appreciate the company and if I could hold her hand she would like that very much…

Despite her best intentions Alice did not have a good time. She screamed a lot during the delivery and despite the pain she had in here hands she crushed my fingers and swore a great deal. Sister Rose ignored it all and simply told her that all was well and told her when to push and when to relax and Alice tried hard to follow orders. She still uttered the occasional expletive though! And then all of a sudden there she was – Eve arrived. Her screams and protests far louder than her mothers. The wet hair on her head lay quite thick across her scalp and her wrinkled face creased even more as she bellowed her welcome to the world. Her pudgy little fingers groped as the midwife passed her to Alice who beheld the squawking bundle with delight and tears and pressed the tiny body to her bosom. The mouth that yelled soon became the mouth that suckled and silence, save for the heavy breathing from Alice soon overtook the room and the midwives left her to settle for a while.

Alice looked at me at smiled a weary smile. “I did it”, she said. “Thanks for staying.”

I sat with her for another hour. I held the baby in my arms while the midwives did their bit with Alice by washing her and changing her blood-soaked gown. All to soon it was time to leave because the bleep gave a signal that I was required elsewhere. We exchanged a hug and a kiss and said goodbye and I went about my job. I wondered how to write up the occasion in the Report book.

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I was on my way to the Canteen to grab a bite to eat. The day so far had been busy and I thought that if I grabbed a sandwich or, if they had any left, a baguette I could take it back and eat whilst I finished off one of the reports requested.

Outside the Pharmacy a whole host of people waited for prescriptions to be made up and I had to negotiate my way through the throng. My way was barred by an attractive, twenty-something, year old woman who stood foursquare in front of me. “Hello”, she said.

I looked and saw a complete stranger. Nevertheless, I said a rather brusque ‘hello’ in return and tried to step round her. She sidestepped and was still in my way. “You don’t know me do you?”, she asked rather unnecessarily. I had to admit that she was correct in her assumption. But then she asked me another question. A question that threw me a bit and I paid attention.

I listened to her question and it seemed harmless enough and truth to tell, I could use the event to take my mind off work. So I followed her as she led me across reception to meet her Mother as per the request.

The figure in the wheelchair had her head bowed so I could not see her features. But I could see that she was disabled by her twisted hands and feet. The younger woman spoke again. “Mum, I think I found her.”

‘Mother slowly twisted her head to one side and lifted her face to look at me and she smiled . “Hello Amanda.”

I tried to be calm and courteous but the puzzled look on my face gave me away and the woman laughed a delightfully musical laugh. “I suspect that you do not remember me. But I remember you.” Then she burst into song, the first line from Sgt. Pepper by the Beatles. “It was twenty years ago today.” And she laughed again. “You helped me make the world a better place. You stayed with me while I gave birth to the beautiful child beside you.” She indicated her daughter.

She went on at length about what a delight her daughter was to her and she had grown up into a wonderful woman and was good to her Mother. The girl blushed and muttered warm words of admonishment to her mother, she was obviously used it. I learned that Eve Cared for her Mother in almost every way because of the disabling disease that had reached far into her body and limbs. But the warm smile was always present, she smiled fondly when she told me of the passing of her husband and how the two of them had attended the funeral, Eve supporting her Mother as by now she walked unsteadily.

Mother went on, “I was a bit wrong singing that song you know. It was Twenty Two years ago actually. Twenty Two years ago, you and I shared a moment. Remember?”

And the years rolled away and I rubbed my hand at the memory of her vice-like grip.