I stand there dressed only in my regulation school knickers. I am shivering and ashamed as, although I am eleven years old, I still have no breasts. The lady doctor, who does have breasts and lots more wobbly bits besides, looms over me, peering in my throat, my eyes, my ears and writing things on her notepad. I am weighed and measured. She writes some more. She doesn't like me - I feel it in my ever-sensitive bladder. Does she know I still wet the bed? I am terrified she will find out. Finally she tells me I can put my clothes back on. She is writing again now on a fresh piece of paper. I want to know what she is writing. Am I deformed? Have I some terrible disease? Is there something wrong with my bladder? Will I need an operation? The fear builds. I don't like this woman - she has power. She tears off the sheet of paper, seals it quickly and hands it to me. Give that to your mother, she says without looking up. I sense I am dismissed.
On my way home I open the envelope. It isn't difficult as the sticky bit hasn't stuck very well. I read the letter. There's no mention of my bladder or lack of breasts. She has written: Your child is underweight and under-nourished, please ensure she drinks plenty of milk. I re-seal the letter and stuff it in my blazer pocket. Already I'm feeling the familiar ache in my bladder. Please God, I think, let me make it home before I wet myself.
The next day my mother tells me she has had a telephone call from the school doctor. She goes to the kitchen to boil my milk, pours it into a glass and hands it to me. The skin is already forming on top. In my mind my mother and the lady doctor merge into one. I hate milk, I hate my mother and I hate doctors. Looking at the milk I start to retch.
Comments
insertponceyfre... | October 27, 2010 - 21:24
totally authentic voice - despair, shame, anxiety - it's all faultlessly described. Well done
seashore | October 28, 2010 - 08:55
Wow, thank you so much.
Highhat | October 28, 2010 - 10:59
I thought it was very good. Very authentic yes
;)
Geoffrey | October 28, 2010 - 11:23
Brilliant as always 3. Usual result for me but thats life. No I haven't heard it before. More please 7.
luigi_pagano | October 28, 2010 - 13:35
A well written piece which skilfully describes the fearful attitude of an adolescent on the verge of puberty. Excellent.
Sooz006 | January 2, 2011 - 13:45
I quite liked my blue, regulation school knickers. I could pull them all the way up to my armpits. Still liking the tone of these and empathise with the content.
seashore | January 2, 2011 - 14:16
Thanks for reading and commenting, Sooz006.
My knickers were brown but in line with regulations, at least three sizes too big of course.
sue dinum | May 24, 2012 - 20:55
Came across this while cruising, Coral. Loved it, you captured something here, that moment in time. There was so many things I hated about school - those warmed by the sun 1/3 pints of milk that we had to drink. You brought it back so very well. Mind you, memories of swirling gymslips and glimpses of 'navy-blues' from our netball players... ah yes, now that was what I call a happy memory.
Thanks for a great piece.
Trev
seashore | May 24, 2012 - 21:03
...and thanks so much for reading this old piece, Trev.
Brown in my case btw!
sue dinum | May 24, 2012 - 22:04
Yes, I know you mentioned 'brown' personally, Coral. I've always had a fetish about those navy-blues from my schooldays, it's funny the things that have an effect on you, the things that stay with you, we don't design it. I believe the other available colours in keeping with a particular school uniform were: green, maroon and grey, but I bet you looked great in brown!
Love your writing, by the way, Coral, especially when you reminisce.
Trev
seashore | May 25, 2012 - 09:00
Just want you to know I really appreciate all your encouragement, Trev.
Incidentally, it was green before brown due to move from Bristol to Newcastle aged nearly eleven. Preferred green back then - now my choice would be brown!
All the best - and keep writing, as I know you will anyway.
Thanks again,
Coral