This is a response to What Pegman Saw, a weekly prompt, that uses Google Maps locations as inspiration for a 150-word piece of writing. We are in Estonia, in Northeastern Europe, this week. I played with the name of the country to come up with my story. Which, actually, takes place quite close to home.
This is my salute to the moment, addressed by the story/poem , Welcome to Holland. This story is often told to parents when they first find out their child has a disability, to help them adjust to the shock. The poem supposes, that even though we planned for a trip to Italy, we actually ended up in Holland. Estonia would work just as well, I suppose. Beautiful in its own way, but definitely not Italy!
I also take a little friendly jab at service providers, including those in the medical community, who are sometimes less than completely supportive. See my post Bedside Manners for Doctors and Teachers for more on that. Thanks for the prompt and thanks for reading!
“Es-t-t-tonia?” Sally stuttered, clutching her six-month-old. The baby whimpered ceaselessly.
Exasperated, the doctor sighed.
“Nurse Joan. Tell Mr. Amerson I’ll be right in.” A beep, from somewhere in the bowels of the hospital, rushed in. Just as quickly, it hushed, as the door whooshed closed, behind her.
“Not Es-tonia. That’s a country, Miss Ives. Hypo-tonia. Tonia—as in muscle tone. Hypo—as in low, or poor.”
The doctor shoved his glasses up his nose-bridge. They immediately slid back down again, like a stubborn toboggan.
“Poor muscle tone? So he can’t sit? But…”
Sally faltered. She had no idea, what to ask.
“He’s such a healthy baby!” she protested.
“Aren’t they all?” chuckled the doctor. “We’ll run some tests. For now, wait here.”
He spun around on his stool. “Where’s your husband?”
Sally’s eyes sharpened to steel.
“I already told you. I have no husband.”
The baby bellowed like a banshee.
For another tale from the hospital room read Winter’s Toll.