BMJ  2004;329:287 (31 July), doi:10.1136/bmj.329.7460.287

Filler

The truth is not always a beautiful thing

The first 150 words of the full text of this article appear below.

I answered my emergency page to be informed that my presence, as the on-call neonatology senior house officer, was required for an instrumented delivery. On my arrival in the obstetric theatre, three apparently vital pieces of information were offered: the baby was being delivered by mid-cavity forceps, labour had been prolonged, and both parents were veterinary surgeons.

The scene was familiar, with a sweaty, exhausted looking woman in stirrups. At her cranial end sat her husband, perched awkwardly on a stool, his discomfort heightened by the cumulative effect of the "one size fits all" surgical scrubs and the actions of the obstetrician at his wife's caudal end. I checked the resuscitaire and waited for the impending delivery.

The baby girl was delivered "flat," and the theatre echoed with her silence. As I cleaned and dried her, I felt the father's presence at my shoulder. This was the first anxiety provoking . . . [Full text of this article]

Gregor Walker, specialist registrar in paediatric surgery

Royal Hospital for Sick Children, Glasgow


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