Message on the answer phone:
“Miss Turner, we’ve had the results of your blood test back and your iron is low. Please ring your doctor to collect some iron tablets.”
How about no. How about stick it up your arse. I’m not going through the stress I went through last time only to be told it was all for nothing. It’s back on the Floradix for me, and if that doesn’t work, baby might find itself born on the sofa.
That’s the last time I let a midwife sweet talk me into having blood tests.