Posts Tagged ‘pregnant’

And that’s how mistakes happen!

February 25, 2010

As I’ve previously detailed here over the previous few blogs – what with my workload, not to mention my being pregnant, I have had my hands quite full of late. And if I am to be honest – I tend to thrive under such pressure cooker conditions. There isn’t a job or task too hard or  too busy that I can’t make infinitely harder and busier.

So when things do finish, when I do find myself, as I do now, with little to do – this is of course where complacency can set in. I know there is probably some more worthwhile stuff that I could be getting on with, some way with which I can be more creative with my time, but I find that I just can’t be arsed…

I have developed a marvellous technique of staring off into the middle distance, focusing on nothing in particular and nobody disturbs me because they think I’m in deep thought. I’m really not. I’m not thinking about anything. I can sit like that for hours. I do. Until it’s time for lunch.

The problem however, now is, when people do come to me with genuine and important jobs to do, my enthusiasm is dimmed. If I can actually be bothered to lift myself up from my desk, I tend to do it rather half heartedly. So as it stands after yesterday’s little ‘incident’ let’s just say, I’m off the operating theatre rota for the time being…


Why not put your feet up!

February 22, 2010

Well it seemed like I’d never get here, but it’s done. I will admit to being somewhat remiss in my weekly posts of late. Some of this of course can be put down to my incumbent child, that still sits lazily within me point blankly refusing to emerge. I have even taken to going to sleep at night, with a saucer of milk positioned at the foot of my bed, in the hope of luring them out but alas to no avail.

But the real reason for my apparent tardiness has been the sheer workload volume that greeted my return in the New Year, something I am only now beginning to get a handle on. I have sacrificed much these last few weeks, besides this column, from my weekly limbo dancing classes through to a series of reconciliatory ‘dates’ with my ex-wife who had left me, because she felt I was married more to my work than her.

Still, now that I can kick back a little and relax, I am relieved she has stopped leaving me abusive voicemail messages – that woman could always string an impressive amount of profanities together when pushed!

If anything, I have been working so hard these last few weeks, I now find myself at something of a loss as to what to do when I get to the laboratory of a morning. Things rarely pick up till late afternoon, so have found myself increasingly passing the time, with idle activity and practice – for instance I’ve taken to juggling with conical flasks, and also am learning to identify different types of acid, merely by taste.

Code RED.

January 25, 2010

I don’t know how this could have happened, but it seems that I, Professor Charles Human – professor, doctor, scientist, MAN – am pregnant.

Well, actually I DO roughly know how it happened. It was the end product of a series of stupid, purile, drunken experiments, conducted and goaded on by my peers. The evening started off quite amicably. I remember we were discussing the scientific probability that one day it would be possible for a man to become pregnant (a real man, not some ex-woman, post-op with a goatie). Then I vaguely remember me suggesting why not make that day today! Idiot. After being kicked out of our club at closing time (or possibly for shouting), raiding the nearby off-licence for their last case of Scotch, I recall we headed back to my institute feeling the night was still young. The rest is hazy. There was lots of alcohol. Then ethanol. I remember Dawkins trying to a call for a stripper (at 3am!) – as if that was going to help. Every time we go out, he tries to order a bloody stripper. He even did it once when we all went to theatre. The man is tit mad. Anyway, as I say I can’t remember much beyond that. There were tubes….vaseline…scalpels, and I think Hawkings raided the cryogenic store for something as I saw the poor janitor having to clear up broken glass nearby this morning. I don’t remember any pain. In fact I do recall a great deal of laughter and possibly cigars. But the evidence is there on my lower abdomen – surprisingly neat stitches. And what could be a cigar burn. When I saw my body in the mirror this morning, I suspected another practical joke from the boys – I knew Hawkings wanted to get his own back on me for pushing him down the steps at Waterloo station. So I thought maybe they’d stitched a clock or my wallet inside me again. But this was far more serious.

Buggeration. This has all kinds of implications for me. The main one being I’m going to have a baby. It’s definitely happening. I’ve just discarded the 27th ‘YOU ARE PREGNANT’ pregnancy test. At least I don’t have to worry about telling the father. As that’s me too. Just got the conclusive DNA test back from the lab, covered in smiley, laughing faces of course.

On the positive side, this adventure will provide a unique insight into the male side of pregnancy. I’ll still post my regular blogs on all things human and science, but I will occasionally also post dedicated blogs on this new point in my life. There’s lots to talk about obviously. A great deal for me to think about. I’m going to keep it, there’s no question of that. In the critical interests of science, human nature, historical significance and also because my ex-wife always wanted one and when she finds out, she’ll be livid. Ha! Plus you get £190 from the government – simply for getting up the duff.

I will of course deliver the baby myself. I just don’t trust anyone else. I’ll perform a Caesarean section under a local anaesthetic – whereas I am usually against such artificial means of bringing a child into the world, I am equally fond of my penis and fear that, following the evacuation of an infant through it, the old boy will closer resemble a recently vacated sleeping bag.

The really odd thing is, after less than 24 hours my stomach seems to already be slightly larger. Admittedly this could be down to the whole chicken I consumed for breakfast – strange craving I had at 7am, I simply couldn’t deny my body it and was almost breaking down the door to Sainsburys. Gave the fella on the rotisserie counter quite a shock as I gorged on the roast poultry in front of him. I also bought some spares in case I am overcome by a similar urge tomorrow.

Anyway, I had to blog my initial reaction to this news but now I must dash – feeling queasy and need the loo again! (eleventh time in the last hour)