That's not a fire crotch
Anon members and was tempted to post a short story anon wrote, but didn't then.
Late abortion
“What can I do for you today, Mrs Pendlebury?” Doctor Scott asked as he eyed his obviously distraught patient.
“It’s my pregnancy, doctor,” she managed to say through chest heaving sobs and broke down into another fit of tortured tears.
Years of experience had taught him to wait and let his patient regain her composure before continuing his verbal probing, so he merely looked on with his professional caring countenance until she was ready. Sensing that she had almost managed to bring herself under control, he continued.
“Mrs. Pendlebury, trust me, I do fully understand your position,” he told her empathetically. “My wife’s been pregnant for 15 years now.”
This revelation seemed to pacify her and, with a final sniff of snot, she brought her tearful fit under control.
“Really?” she asked, accepting the proffered tissue, first wiping her eyes and then mopping up the twin trail that errantly ran from her nostrils.
“Sure,” he told her. “It’s been very difficult for both of us, but we’ve managed to get through it with the constant support of our friends and family.”
These kindly and sympathetic words were just what the doctor ordered and Mrs. Pendlebury’s eyes showed a gleam of hope. Responding to this, Doctor Scott continued.
“Yes, and it’s not just me. Every family suffers through pregnancy.”
“They do?” she asked, as if not believing him.
“Yes, of course they do,” he replied, putting what he had been taught was a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Is this your first?” he asked, having not recently re-read her file and being wholly incapable of remembering the details of all of his many patients.
“Yes, yes, it’s my first, but I don’t know what to do.” Her voice quivered with this last admission, but she managed to stifle her tears and hold herself together through sheer force of will alone.
“Don’t you have a support network?”
Again, she managed to suppress her expression of pain and admitted that, as a newcomer to the community and with her husband working 18 hours per day, she did not and consequently felt so isolated. This was common with his female patients and he reassuringly told her as much.
“Can you tell me exactly what the problem is?” He asked her, trying to get to its root and, therefore, have some idea how to treat her.
She did just that!
Once she had recounted her tale of woe, Doctor Scott paced the room, index finger upon his chin as he pondered his advice.
“Have you considered an abortion?” he finally asked.
He may just as well have slapped her with a live hake.
“Doctor!” she exclaimed indignantly. “I don’t believe in abortion and neither does my partner!” She got to her feet as if to leave.
“Mrs. Pendlebury, I think you misunderstand me,” he told her placatingly and motioned for her to sit down again. She complied! “What I meant to say was that sometimes the threat of abortion is enough to bring the foetus into line. You know, make them consider their situation.”
“I have thought about this, doctor,” she told him impatiently. “But I don’t like to use threats either.”
Doctor Scott’s finger returned to his chin as he contemplated his case.
“How old is your foetus?” he asked as his mind turned over his and her options.
“He’ll be 18 next April, why?”
“Well, you know the State allows late abortion right up until the foetus reaches 18 years of age?”
“Of course I know that, doctor, but, as I said, I don’t believe in abortion.”
Doctor Scott laughed sardonically.
“Mrs Pendlebury, most of my patients don’t believe in abortion, but late term abortion is one of my most common and lucrative procedures. Almost every parent chooses this option,” he told her with finality and a smug, self-satisfied grin upon his face, satisfied that he would be aborting her foetus later that day or tomorrow at the latest.
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