Strong and stable covfefe

2017 in review

Take a look at any look-back at this year's events and it would be easy to conclude that 2017 was a stinker.  But I'd like to throw in some optimism and suggest that maybe it wasn't such a bad year after all.

Okay, okay... there's the Trump thing, not to mention North Korea.  And Brexit is going about as well as can be expected.  Then there was the fall from grace of my one-time hero Aung San Suu-Kyi.  Not forgetting [insert your pet political grumble here].  I get it.  But hear me out.  Mugabe is no longer in power (granted that Mnangagwa may not be much better, but still), Zuma no longer leads the ANC (and hence, hopefully, will soon no-longer loot lead South Africa), UKIP has all but disappeared and Steps went on tour again.  Personally, it was quite a good year too.  I built a staircase and obtained my reindeer drivers' license (seriously).

Oh, and I became a father.

That's right... whatever the doom-peddlers may say, 2017 was a good year as the world welcomed this little bundle:

It gives an opportunity to put things in perspective.  Let me take you back to the early hours a September Friday morning...

I'm just in bed, having been sent away from the hospital as a spare part, when the phone rings.  This is it: the moment.  It was hard to make out the exact instruction through all the screams and profanities, but the gist was something like 'make haste to the labour suite'.

As I arrive and try to accept the reality of the situation, before I have the chance to do anything, the midwife calls me over to the side to warn me that already things are not looking straightforward.  There is a problem with baby's heartbeat, and a range of scenarios could ensue.

She takes me through her scenario-planning: if x happens, then y could happen, so we better do z just in case.  Then again, if a happens, we'd have to do b so I'm going to prepare c just in case.  Then again, d, e and f might all happen, and that would spell real trouble, so I've got g and h standing by.

"Do you play chess?" I ask her, hoping that levity will relieve the gravity of the situation.  "If you don't, you should."

The clock ticks forward, and more and more complicated pieces of monitoring equipment are attached and inserted as a stream of medics visit, look at the graphs and suck in through their teeth like a mechanic who is about to tell you the cylinder head has gone.  The various alarms and people racing from the room suggest there are several emergencies on the go at once.

"I've called in the on-call surgeon, just in-case," says the chess-playing midwife.  "And I've asked the Sick Kids to send out a paediatric emergency team."

It all sounds very serious, yet no-one is worried because this midwife appears to be super-woman.  There is surely no possible scenario she hasn't got a plan for.

In comes a consultant to look at the monitor, and before we know what's going on, everyone is whisked away down a labyrinth of corridors to theatre, and I'm thrown some scrubs to change in to.  It's all very ER.

Thirteen people it took to bring this one little life into the world: nine midwives, surgeons, anaesthetists and others in theatre, and two paediatric emergency doctors stood with me at the side.  In the end, they aren't needed, as the moment he's delivered, he's as healthy a baby as they've seen.  We all share a moment of gratitude that everything is well, thanks to this 13-strong medical team brought together by the chess-playing midwife.

It's hard not to think back to that night.  The harsh reality is that at any earlier time in history, mother and/or baby may not have survived this ordeal.  The harsher reality is that in most other parts of the world, such a team of specialists would be unaffordable, if available at all.

That we still, over 50 years later, have a National Health Service, free at the point of need, that can perform these most miraculous of acts daily is something for which we should be most grateful.  2017's not been so bad after all, has it?

Unrelated Post Script: A glance at the statistics of this blog reveals that there has been a sudden surge in visitors in recent months, all of them from Russia.  I don't know what I've done to rouse your interest, but Привет whoever you are.