At today's regular doctor's appointment, we were encouraged to make the hospital sick (I mean, birthing) room over into a home away from home, bringing along familiar things to trick every sense into believing we were in a comfortable space.
I considered this advice and told Ronak that it would take more than a quilt, a CD, and an air freshener to make me feel like I was at home.
I imagined what a rich, fabulous, pregnant woman would do to makeover the room. Let's call her Lady Gwendolyn.
I visualize her ladyship arriving in a wheelchair filled with expensive pillows. "Julio?" she calls out, and a fabulously dressed man arrives in tow.
"There is just nothing I can do to improve that hallway," Julio says with a frown. "And they keep the door open so often. It's impossible to look away. The antiseptic white walls simply demand your attention - and your horror." He glances at the nurse disapprovingly, then rolls his eyes. "Perhaps a curtain or some retro beads." He gazes at the doorway, imagines the beads ratting against the heads of hospital staff and gives a slight smile.
Meanwhile the nurse is encouraging her ladyship to hop up on the bed. "I don't think so," Gwendolyn responds. "Julio?"
"Is this the father of the baby?" the nurse asks.
Julio and her ladyship chuckle. "Of course not. Julio is my personal interior decorator. It's all right here in my birth plan." She holds out a copy. "Under support persons."
The nurse looks skeptical. "Have you gone over this plan with your doctor?"
Gwendolyn waves the question away with her hand. "My people talked to his people. Details. So dull."
"And yet you wrote a very detailed birth plan," the nurse observes, flipping through the pages of the tome.
"My legal people. Very thorough." Her ladyship smiles. "Maybe you should go read that somewhere, so you understand all my requirements."
"We'll do our best to respect your wishes, but there are hospital policies to be considered," the nurse explains.
"Ridiculous. I am paying you, therefore you are one of my people. Therefore you do what I say or the contract is void."
A vein pulses in the nurse's temple. She grips the birth plan tightly. "I'll be back in just a few minutes to take your vitals. Please make yourself comfortable."
Julio imagines the beaded curtain rapping her on the head as she exits through the door. He smiles again. Then turns back to Gwendolyn.
"Has inspiration struck?"
The decorator's left eyebrow rises mischievously.
"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Gwendolyn demands.
He spins on his heel toward the windows. "I am thinking magenta, forest green, and gold."
Gwendolyn claps. "So many of my favorites. And how are they arranged?"
"Curtains rise above the window frames, adding height to the room. Because, really, no vaulted ceilings?"
Her ladyship shakes her head. "I know, I know. I tried, but I couldn't reserve a particular room. And to redo every room on the hall - we just don't have the time to get the contractors in."
"Pity." Julio spins on his heel toward the bathroom. "I suppose that means no marble in the bath either."
"Afraid not," Gwendolyn says. "I hope that doesn't spoil your plans too terribly."
"No matter." The designer turns back to her ladyship and the hospital bed. His gaze falls to an IV pole, then a panel of medical equipment. "That," he says, pointing to the dingy silver instruments, "will clash with my vision. All of it must go."
"Of course. They are so unattractive and medical-looking anyway. Destroys any illusion of home. How am I supposed to be comfortable?"
"Exactly."
Gwendolyn looks at the medical equipment with disdain. "Julio dear, that reminds me. Have the trellises and the roses been ordered?"
"Of course."
"And the rose perfume in case they don't exude the proper amount of fragrance?"
Julio nods. "How could you expect anything less? With a hidden fan wafting the scent about the room like a warm summer breeze."
"Lovely." Her ladyship smiles with pleasure.
"And the harpist, of course," the designer reminds her. "I have ordered the most picturesque bench to place to the left of the corner trellis for her to perch herself upon. Let me just check the acoustics to make sure that would be the most appropriate position. Visually, yes, but this piece must be complete perfection - a symphony for the senses."
"Julio, you are a wonder," Gwendolyn effuses as the designer begins warming up his voice in the corner.
The nurse returns with a chart. "Okay. How frequent are your contractions now?"
Gwendolyn shrugs.
"Have you been timing them?" the nurse asks.
"My people would if there was anything to time, my dear." Her ladyship smiles sweetly.
"Are you even in labor?" the nurse demands.
"Well, no. I'm not due for another month."
"Then why are you here?"
Gwendolyn rolls her eyes. "Obviously you didn't read my birth plan... The section under 'ambiance.' We're doing our walk-through today. Julio is finalizing the visuals. And I'm testing out the equipment to see if everything suits me. That will give you time to replace anything that is uncomfortable or that clashes with Julio's vision. Is that clear, dear?"
"Ma'am, we have three women waiting in triage, who are actually in labor, and need a room," the nurse explains, gripping her clipboard more tightly, her knuckles whitening.
"So, go see to them, dear." Gwendolyn waves her hand. "We don't require your services at this time. We'll call you in 30 minutes or so and discuss renovations."
"La la la la la la la la la." Julio sings a run in the corner. He sighs.
"I don't think you understand," the nurse tries again. "If you aren't in labor, you need to leave. Now. Someone else needs this room."
Her ladyship frowns. "Now?" she pouts. "But we are so close to being finished." She turns to her designer. "Julio? Do you have what you need?"
"La la la la la la la la la. Just one minute."
"That will give me just enough time to try out the bed." Gwendolyn rises from her chair of pillows and gingerly approaches the hospital bed. She touches it quickly with an index finger. "No, that won't do. Not at all like home."
"I was thinking mahogany or teak. Maybe bamboo." Julio appears by her side. "With a down comforter? In Magenta?"
"Exactly." Gwendolyn beams. "Just like my house in the mountains. So lovely."
"Can you go now?" the nurse asks as politely as she is able.
"Yes, dear." Gwendolyn settles herself back in the wheelchair. "My people will contact you, my other people, about the renovations shortly. But for now," she gestures toward the chair, "could I get this in gold?"
"That's the only style we have," the nurse explains.
"Pity," her ladyship pouts.
"Indeed," Julio agrees and wheels her from the room.
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