I was once sense to a specialist hospital for women and children for an emergency appointment with fetal medicine. Extremely stressful.
It’s at the heart of a massive city and attached to an enormous general hospital (though pedestrian access between the two is prevented by the location of a dual carriageway) which has many specialities, so is always inordinately busy.
I left bags of time, mainly because I was absolutely sick with anxiety.
For info: the W&C hospital has its own dedicated but small car park, next to the hospital. The general hospital has an enormous multi-storey one the other side of the carriageway.
When I arrived, I discovered that half of the small W&C car park had been taken up to store machinery and materials for workmen (and maybe women) working on the general hospital…
Temporary lines had been painted, shrinking the size of the parking spaces to narrower than the width of my actual car. Though that was moot anyway. The car park was completely full.
I saw pregnant and very recently postnatal women with tiny babies in car seats, trying to squeeze out of the minuscule gaps between cars.
I wound up parking miles and miles away in a housing estate and having to schlep, anxious and pregnant, back to the hospital. I encountered about eight other women doing the same.
Absolutely fucking mental.
When I asked why they didn’t use some of the massive car park to store the stuff stuff, the midwife rolled her eyes and said they always use their car park.