A broken doctor, a broken womb
" I laid in the hospital bed alone, waiting for the emergency operating theatre to call. They had admitted me to the labour ward. There were no available single rooms. I was flanked by couples with their newborn babies. Behind the curtain, their cooing voices carried over as I curled crying in bed in a fetal position." I still recall the second time I miscarried. It was during my morning ward rounds. An impending signal - the sudden gush of fluid. I was at my third patient talking to my MO. My face did not betray the bodily insult. It was 9 am and there were 15 more patients to go. It would be at least another 2 hours before I would be done. I think most women would go to the toilet to immediately check. I knew myself - if I stopped to check and confirmed the beginning of the inevitable, I would lose all focus. But I was a doctor with patients waiting to be seen and junior doctors directly under my supervision. How could I then make rational clinical ...