Two for the price of one.

It was a midnight c/section. Baby was four weeks early. Mom was HUGE and in labour.
Dad was making jokes....

C/sections have really come a long way in the last couple of years. An elective one can almost be compared with a visit to your favourite spa or salon these days. The appointment is made on a day that suits you, Dad is allowed in, they play music of your choice, it gets videoed & photographed, mom's hair is freshly highlighted, she has a french-manicure, make-up is impeccable etc etc ... and the doctors make jokes. All that's missing is the glass of chilled chardonnay ...

The ambiance of a midnight c/section depends on the collective personalities. The majority of the medical species, suffers from the cinderella syndrome, ie, we lose it after midnight. We do try to cover it up during normal working hours, but one has to bear in mind that we are not exactly normal to begin with.

On this particular night, everyone was pretty jovial and jesty. Dad was exceptionally manic. An extra-ordinarily big guy, he proudly informed us that he himself had weighed in at 5.4kg! (Sadly, his mother didn't have the luxury of a c/section). To give you an idea, I judged him well-over 1.9m and about 120kg. He was rock-solid, but not in the steroid-infused-body-builder kind of way. Obviously a sportsman of some sort. That's why poor Mom looked like a beached whale ... their offspring was genetically enhanced in size. I was grateful on her behalf for the four weeks worth of discount. I eye-balled him, and asked if he was of the fainting sort ... I have always been slightly fascinated by these incredible hulk type of guys, but the thought of this particular one falling on me, was not in the least fascinating. He was offended by my question, but I explained that I routinely asked all dads, and I told him to rather fall to his right, as falling to his left would seriously cramp my style. I didn't need that!


The procedure was going well. When it came to delivering the little mini-me-hulk, the surgeon gave it one shot then reached for the forceps. A reasonable choice considering the prior discussion regarding baby sizes. Well Dad didn't quite agree. One look at the forceps and he started swaying. Now my first priority is Mom, but suddenly I was worried about Dad. In the three seconds it took for me to get to him, he'd totally flaked out. His head hit the ground from a height of about 1.6m ( he was sitting in my chair), in just under three seconds. No serious physics needed to figure that the impact was, sort of impressive. The resounding thud was remarkable, and of course ... he fell to the left.

There were a few technical dilemmas at this stage. One, he was in my way. Two, he was a dead-weight lying at an awkward angle. Three, he was unconscious and bleeding. Four, everyone else was busy, so only I was free to attend to him. Five, I still needed to keep an eye on Mom.

I just about shattered a disc getting him into the rescue position. He was more than double my weight ( using ideal body mass of course). Quick check: he was breathing & had a pulse, but had a serious forehead laceration and his tongue was bleeding. Some suction to clean up his airway, some oxygen for good-will, a pressure dressing for his forehead, and some ice for his tongue. A few slaps on the cheek to help him catch a wake-up ... and voila!! Dad was back!!! A little worse for wear, but nevertheless stable.

He was firmly shooed out of theatre and straight to casualty where he was promptly X-rayed and sutured. At least that was the end of him I thought to myself.

But about ten minutes before the end of the procedure, Mr-not-so-incredible-anymore, was back! Patched-up, and I quote, " good as new". Well by now it was way past midnight, and all fairytales were over, and all gloves were off! The poor guy was ragged senseless, he probably wished that he'd had the sense to just wait outside! I have never seen a guy that size blush. Although it was probably embarrassing for him, to me it was a great improvement on ghastly pale ...

Eventually we took pity on him, advised him to go via admissions next time he felt like some treatment, and congratulated him on his remarkable ability to create a 4kg prem.