The following is a final, focused reflection on our delivery […]
The following is a final, focused reflection on our delivery experience. It contains a great deal of mockery and sarcasm. Enjoy.
Our hospital hated C-sections. While they certainly would perform the procedure, they made it clear that they wished to avoid surgery. Perhaps they wanted the baby to have some manners and use the front door. They must like classy babies.
The doctors and nurses continuously distinguished themselves from lesser hospitals that would schedule a C-section before knowing that the baby could not be delivered vaginally. At every appointment and birthing class, the hospital harped on this point. I could understand their reasoning, but found their tactics to be odd.
At a birthing course, one of our classmates mentioned that she may have a C-section. Our eloquent instructor quickly interrupted her and informed the class that the hospital refuses to recognize the term C-section. Hospital staff members alternatively refer to the procedure by its proper name, and discourage people from using the term C-section. It must be called a Caesarean section.
This opened my eyes. Apparently, if we make something more difficult to spell or pronounce, we make it less likely to happen. Big words must intimidate young growing families. Who would ever want a Caesarean section, given the circumstances? After all, my wife and I chose not to have a Caesarean section because it would be difficult to write in a Facebook status. Too many letters. I longed for the days when we called them C-sections. I could write that all day. C-section. C-section. C-section. Meanwhile, it took me 10 minutes to spell-check Caesarean.
In the end, the hospital is probably right. C-section is simply too easy to type. We already use LOL and JK while texting, and I am fairly certain that texting while birthing is illegal. There is no need for acronyms in the delivery room. It might cause some accidents.
In conclusion, the hospital has pioneered a new way to make the world a better place. Complicate words, and make them harder to spell. Maybe we can battle childhood diabetes by adding a few letters to ice cream and candy. Perhaps we can implement a form of gun control by adding a few silent g’s to semi–automatic. This hospital is brilliant. They are changing the world, one complicated word at a time.