Ugh. School. My parents were progressive sorts, so sent me to the roughest local comp, despite us being Guardian-reading, self-building middle-class sorts. I of course got bullied, and hid my academic ability under an extremely large bushel. From which it has only occasionally emerged. Don't keep in touch with anyone from those days, as had no friends. It would seem that trying to be cool, while being a spod, does you no favours.
As for miscarriages, don't get me started. I've had five, and all have been horrific. With one, I actually passed the baby into the hand of the doctor in A&E. He left it on the side, in a jar. I wanted it to be tested for chromosomal abnormalities, so he gave it to me to carry on my lap, as I was wheeled 400 miles to the ward. When I protested, he put it in a plastic bag and gave it to DP. Later that night, on the ward, a woman with a newborn baby was put in the opposite bed.
After a D&C for another one, at 13 weeks when it turned out the baby had died when I went for the nuchal fold scan, I came round to an orderly shouting in my face 'Have you been to the toilet? Have you been to the toilet?' I went to the sodding toilet, and went home. No word from a doctor, no follow up, nothing. I had to chase like mad to get the results of the genetic test for that one.
If miscarriages are so common, surely there should be a protocol for dealing with them. Not treating women as inconveniences who should try not to make a mess. Makes me FUME.