Morning boys & girls - it's yer ol pal Scrubbie here!
So - where was I? Oh ya... the Wife. The pending Kid. The fetus-fetchers. Got it.
The Wife and me - high-tailed it to the doctorin' facility without incident. No ERBDK needed.
Arrived. Went in.
"Good morning" I says. "I am Scrubbie. This is The Wife. We are here to have a Kid." It was all very orderly.
"Good morning Mr. Scrubbie, Mrs. Scrubbie" the lady says. "Mrs. Scrubbie - why don't you go in there and put on this little gown..." and the lady points to the fetus-fetchin' room.
We head in.
In the room beside us - there was another woman who was in the middle of *gulp... deliverin' her kid. And, that woman beside us in the middle of *gulp... deliverin' her kid....was a screamer. No other way to put it. She was a screamer. Not happy about childbirth. Not at all.
'Course - don't blame her. I mean - seriously. A kid. Out 'that' thing? No frackken way.
But...the important thing to know is... me and the wife - we're only separated from Screamer by a wall. Thin little wall.
The Wife - gawd lov'er - she went through that woman thing of "oh sure... lets go natural". And, was pretty much all set on it. Until Screamer.
Out of the Loo she came - eyes wide as saucers. jaw on the ground. sweat pourin off her brow. "I'm NOT going through THAT!" she says. "WHERE'S THE DRUGS!?"
Anyway - the Kid was still not due for a few hours - so the Wife and me made our way down to the cafeteria to grab a little breakfast. It was nice. Quiet morning. The smell of yummy stuff wafting through the place. It was nice.
Scrub - good 'ol bacon and eggs. Yum Yum. The Wife - fluffy pancakes. This was a mistake.
See - the Wife - she dribbled nothin more than a single drop of golden goodness on her frock. Just one small smackerin' of maple syrup. True Canadian nectar. But, for the next 42 hours - that wee dash of otherwise deliciousness was a permanent olfactory presence and lingered with the Wife through the whole day and night. My friends - The Wife... not a happy camper about this. Not one little bit.
We finish up our breakky and make our way back up to the room. The 'ol labour pains - comin' on a little stronger now. Time for some intervention. "Nurse!"
The Wife decides she wants to try Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation. Fancy, eh? We got all the good stuff here in the Great White. So - this TENS machine - basically tries to trick your body into thinking that there's no pain.
Need a review? The Wife - she'll tell ya.... DAMN'D THING DOESN'T WORK.
She had that thing cranked up so high, hair was burnin, skin was rippling and smoke was comin out her ears. If you stuck a light bulb in her mouth - would have lit up the room.
Then - the worst part... the nurse (that poor woman) made the mistake of suggesting that maybe taking a walk would help.
I'm not entirely sure. It was all a blur. But, I am fairly confident that the Wife turned a shade of... well... it was definitely a shade of red. And, then there was somethin' about "you want me to walk to make this pain go away?" or something to that effect. Now.. the nurse wasn't really all that shocked by the Wife's reaction to her suggestion that a stroll down the hallway was the sure fire method to bodily bliss. What really shook the nurse was when the devil horns sprouted outa the Wife's forehead and fire blew out her nostrils. Ya - I think that's what did it.
Oh - just kiddin. We took a walk.
No - didn't help.
The story continues...