In January, Mrs. White hit menopause. At first, it didn’t bring any significant issues. There were no famous hot flashes, sweats, rapid heartbeats, or headaches. Her periods simply stopped, and that was that: welcome to old age!
Mrs. White didn’t see a doctor, feeling well-acquainted with the what and why from her readings. Her friends often shared their experiences too, telling her she was lucky to have such an easy time with menopause.
But her friends’ comments seemed to jinx her. Soon enough, strange things started happening to Mrs. White. She understood these were hormonal changes in her body that wouldn’t pass unnoticed. Hence the mood swings, dizziness, and fatigue, she assumed.
It became increasingly difficult for her to bend down to her granddaughter, Lily. Her appetite waned, and her back started aching in a whole new way. Mornings brought a puffy face, and by night, her legs were swollen. For a while, Mrs. White paid little mind to her discomforts. Her daughters-in-law were the first to raise the alarm, saying she looked pale and frail. They urged her to go to the doctor and get an ultrasound, reminding her not to overlook such matters.
Mrs. White stayed silent. She’d long suspected something wasn’t right. Her breast pain intensified, and her lower abdomen ached, keeping her awake. She often lay silently at night, staring at the ceiling, listening to her husband’s steady snores, quietly weeping while reflecting on the past and pondering the future.
How she dreaded the thought of dying! She was only fifty-two, not even retired yet. They’d just begun looking for a country house, wanting to spend more time in nature. Her sons had great careers. Her daughters-in-law were respectful, never cheeky, helping her dye her gray hairs and advising on clothing to disguise her weight.
Her only granddaughter, Lily, was a little gem, such a delight. She was into figure skating and would start primary school in the autumn. She drew beautifully and could already knit—thanks to her grandmother’s teaching.
Life seemed to have flown by so fast! For Mrs. White, it felt like she hadn’t truly lived. She’d just married off her younger son and awaited grandchildren from him when this illness came. Wiping hot tears with the sheet’s edge, they continued flowing down her cheeks. In the mornings, dark circles formed under her eyes. Her face grew darker, more drawn.
***
Mrs. White somehow got through spring and summer, but by autumn, she was in terrible shape. Breathless, with relentless back pain and unbearable abdominal aches. Finally, she decided to see a doctor and reveal her sufferings to her husband.
The whole family practically accompanied her to the clinic. Her husband, Andrew, with their eldest son, stayed in the car, while both daughters-in-law waited in the corridor.
With effort, Mrs. White climbed into the examination chair, blushing from awkwardness, and answered the doctor’s questions: when her periods stopped, when she felt poorly, and when she last had a check-up. It took a while, and Mrs. White got cold on the chair as the doctor filled out forms, washed her hands, and put on gloves.
The doctor examined Mrs. White thoroughly, growing increasingly frowny and tense. After a quick “Get dressed,” she moved to the phone. Mrs. White, with trembling hands, struggled to pull on her stubborn skirt, terror-struck while listening to the doctor speak.
“Oncology, please?” she yelled into the phone. “This is from ward five. I have a serious patient needing urgent consultation. It’s urgent! Yes, fifty-two… first-time visit. Seems to be the last stage; I can’t find the uterus… Yes, yes… They live as if in the woods, despite all the information everywhere. And yet, they can’t find time to see a doctor… Yes, sending her over.”
Concluding her call, the doctor began filling in more forms.
“Did you come here alone?”
“No, with my husband and children, by car,” Mrs. White answered quietly with numb lips. Only now did she feel the intense pain engulfing her. Her breath caught, legs gave out, and she felt the urge to scream. She leaned against the doorframe and wept.
The nurse rushed out, yelling, “Who’s here with Mrs. White? Come in!”
Her daughters-in-law hurried into the office, understanding everything at the sight of Mrs. White. She cried and writhed in pain, while the doctor’s words seemed distant: immediately, urgently, first hospital, oncology, second floor, the doctor’s waiting… So late, sorry… Why delay? Educated people…
The car ride home was silent. Andrew, her husband, sniffled loudly, occasionally wiping tears with the back of his hand. Their son, tense, focused on the road, gripping the wheel tightly.
In the back seat, the daughters-in-law supported Mrs. White, who was rapidly losing strength. She moaned, and when the pain became utterly unbearable, she screamed out, causing Andrew to erupt into fresh sobs.
Occasionally, a brief lull in pain allowed Mrs. White to glimpse the passing golden autumn leaves through the car windows. She mentally bid farewell to the trees, her children, husband, and granddaughter Lily. Who would now spoil her with sweet treats? Who would walk her to school on her first day, greet her after class? Who would hug her tight, kiss her, and marvel at her early achievements?
***
At the hospital, Mrs. White was promptly attended to. The family, in horror, huddled by the window, too shocked to take a seat. Andrew was beyond tears, staring blankly into space. The daughters-in-law wrung their handkerchiefs, while their son rocked silently back and forth.
In the room where Mrs. White was taken, something terrifying seemed to be happening. First, a flush-faced nurse stormed out, bolting down the corridor. Then, an elderly doctor in surgical scrubs hurried in, followed by several more doctors rushing in after him.
When a commotion echoed from the corridor, the family instinctively turned toward the noise: the red-faced nurse, along with two orderlies, quickly pushed a rattling stretcher for transporting patients. Once it disappeared behind the wide doors of the room, the family understood it was the end. Andrew wrapped his head in his hands, moaning. The daughters-in-law frantically searched their handbags for heart drops, and their son’s cheek twitched nervously.
Suddenly, the room’s door swung open again. Mrs. White’s stretcher, covered with a white sheet, was simultaneously pushed by about six or seven people, all flustered, red-faced, with sweat beads on their foreheads. Her pale face was uncovered, terror etched in her swollen eyes. Andrew pushed past the daughters-in-law and ran to his wife. The elderly doctor blocked his path.
“I’m her husband!” Andrew yelled after the retreating stretcher. “Let me say goodbye. My dear, dear love, not like this… we wanted to go together…”
“You’ve gone quite far,” the nurse chided, locking the wide room door. “Don’t interfere, Grandpa, and stop yelling. She’s giving birth. The baby’s head is about to show…”
***
In the delivery room, there were two laboring women: Mrs. White and a very young one, likely a student. They screamed simultaneously and, as if by command, quieted during contractions. Around each of them, midwives and doctors bustled. An elderly professor paced calmly between tables, giving instructions.
“Why do we suffer?” the professor asked during a lull.
“It’s the cursed vodka, it’s all its fault,” groaned the student.
“And you, ma’am?” he addressed Mrs. White, patting her exposed thick thigh.
Mrs. White remained silent, pondering, then whispered weakly, as she had no energy left, “Probably for love. What else? We celebrated my birthday with my husband. Fifty-two years. We fooled around a little…”
“Quite a bit of fooling around, I’d say,” the professor chuckled. “Really didn’t notice anything, or were you playing coy?”
“Oh, doctor, if I’d known, if I’d even thought…! How embarrassing! Already a grandmother. Always been large since childhood; they never called me by my name since I was twenty because of my figure, just by my surname… I was sure it was menopause and cancer piling on. No uterus at the consultation, they said, indicates cancer, last stage…”
“Fairy tales, not cancer,” the professor waved irritably. “We’re all human, and unfortunately, medical errors sometimes happen. But enough talk. Push, ma’am, come on, push. Your surprise wants to see the light!”
***
The midwife exited the delivery room, important and fulfilled. An interesting tale for friends later—not every day a grandmother gives birth.
“Mrs. Lucy White. Any family here?”
“Yes,” the family replied in unison, stepping forward.
“Congratulations,” the midwife said, eyeing the male family members with curiosity. “So who’s the father?”
“I am,” Andrew hoarsely, still disbelieving, whispered.
“He is,” the daughters-in-law concurred, pointing to their father-in-law.
“Amazing,” the midwife couldn’t help but exclaim and added respectfully, “A boy, three and a half kilograms, fifty-one centimeters long. Lay the table, Daddy. Another hour and who knows what… Just in time for the birth. Wonders, indeed. Why they were heading to oncology, I’ll never understand…”
