DH assures me I’m ‘ready to calf’ which is culchy-speak for ‘childbirth is imminent’ and, bloodcurdling as that thought is, I’m just looking forward to a proper night's sleep. My nights are currently a revolving door of bathroom-bed-bathroom-bed and my sleeping positions have been reduced to a choice of precisely one: the left side, since sleeping on my back feels like there is a baby seal crushing all my internal organs and sleeping on my right seems to bring about all the symptoms of a minor stroke. And it's been several weeks since I've taken breathing for granted.
Yes, nature has cleverly conspired to ensure that the closing weeks of pregnancy are so utterly uncomfortable that the agonising and horrific ordeal ahead is seen as a blessed relief.
I am slightly concerned about giving birth here in the UAE though - just ordering a coffee can be trying at times - so the idea of trying to explain my wish for an epidural could prove to be challenging. I have this reoccurring nightmare where I'm yelling for an epidural while a smiling Filipina nurse sing-songs ‘sorreee ma’am, it’s Ramadan, you can’t have any pain relief until the sun goes down’ like some demented character in a Stephen King novel.
I can’t help but feel that might actually happen.
At the very least I fully expect to be told the anaesthetist has left for the day and I'll have to wait until the next day, and do I want a Panadol...
At the very least I fully expect to be told the anaesthetist has left for the day and I'll have to wait until the next day, and do I want a Panadol...
I’m not making out that childbirth is always smooth going in Ireland either; I’ve had good and bad. On the birth of boy-child number two I arrived at the hospital in the throes of labour to be told by the nurse that they had lost my records and did I mind answering a few questions. So there I sat opposite a woman holding clipboard and pen as she went through my name, date of birth, address.....
-'When was your last period' she inquired.
-‘Seriously?' (clearly I have issues remembering this sort of detail at the best of times) '...ah nine months ago I reckon’ I sniggered....'OWWW!'
-‘But we need a date’ she insisted. I hazarded a guess.
-‘Well, in that case you’re not due for another three weeks’ she said, ‘you’d best go home’.
Ten minutes later my waters broke and boy-child number two was with us within an hour; had I taken her advice I would have been in my living room in front of 'Who wants to be a millionaire' by the time I was at the point of pushing.
I’m due to attend a hospital in an area of Dubai optimistically called ‘Healthcare City’, which is basically a number of hospitals and clinics surrounding a parking lot.
In the UAE, if they can give it a theme and grandly call it a ‘City’, they will. We have ‘Academic city’ which is a college surrounded by sand as far as I can make out, ‘Motor City’ which is basically a car racing track (not sure why they need this...they have the roads don't they?) and here in RAK the 'RAK Media City' which is an office on a piece of wasteland outside the town which houses several people who have no idea what to do all day.
Mind you, the emirate of Umm al Quawain is called a city and I’ve seen towns in Mayo consisting of a sub-post office, pub and undertakers all-in-one which have more life in them. But they like to think big here so it’s not so much what you see but what you will see in the future that inspires them when naming things.
Mind you, the emirate of Umm al Quawain is called a city and I’ve seen towns in Mayo consisting of a sub-post office, pub and undertakers all-in-one which have more life in them. But they like to think big here so it’s not so much what you see but what you will see in the future that inspires them when naming things.
But it’s Ramadan once again and that throws up the same challenges as it did for the last two years. It’s not politically correct to be negative about Ramadan here since there is a certain quarter of expat who insist we stifle any grumbles or grouses about what are, in my view, the undeniable inconveniences associated with it. If you complain you are being, at best, ethnocentric and culturally ignorant, at worse committing a hate crime and are therefore a small-minded, bigoted-racist who should be escorted to the nearest border and never be allowed to return.
It has been argued that 1.5 billion believers can’t be wrong, but then I have little faith in the wisdom of crowds: just look at some of the winners of Pop Idol. Besides, I find Ramadan and it’s application a little too arbitrary for my liking. A group of guys with beards study some lunar cycles and decide its Ramadan and suddenly, although you can still buy a Burger King meal at the mall, you have to eat it in your car as sitting inside Burger King has over-night become as unthinkable as walking around with your knickers on your head. And why is it you can’t have a coffee in Starbucks but you can at the Hilton? The only difference I see is the price, but then maybe that’s the point.
Also, if you must only fast during daylight hours, what’s to stop you going to the South Pole where you might only have one hour's daylight a day and doing your fast there? Not much of a challenge is it, an episode of House and your done!
