We sat there for an hour, more or less, and boy, did she throw a multitude of questions. She’s on her 39th week of pregnancy, my multigravid cousin with a rapidly growing finger lump and an even more rapidly growing anxiety.
She asked away, and to the very best of my knowledge and recall, I explained what I know. I probably just unknowingly reiterated what her OB had already told her during her real “consult” but there she was, listening to my every word as if it’s the first time she’s heard what I was saying.
As I struggle to throw every normal value and physiologic response that I have learned from my Obstetrics I subject along with my ample knowledge on pathologic mass and growths, I saw how she tightened and lightened in response to my words and reactions. It was surreal.
“Thank you, Ate Maris,” she said at the end with a smile on her face and slowly walked away.
It’s March 1 today. A whole month of deadly deadlines and towering transcriptions awaits me but I couldn’t care any less.
That woman, with her massively swollen belly, is a spitting reminder of why I’m doing all these.