This is uncomfortably funny at times as Sarah reflects on her own mortality, counting the dwindling years she has left before complete retirement and dishing out some grievances in the process. She has a couple of adult children, but she’s more interested in her bucket list than caring for grandkids; she wouldn’t mind if her adult son moved out of home, and she’d love it if her daughter wasn’t still calling mum to save her from ‘code brown’ situations.
Her dear husband of forty years, who has been unwell of late, seems to see her more as a free nurse than a beloved wife and she’s sick of peer group pressure from competitive ‘friends’ (for want of a better word).
Her observations of how things have changed revolve around pubic hair and rules surrounding her work and the whole medical industry. Her confessions on how human she is are shockingly funny at times, yet she still comes across as a sweet woman. When she speaks of some of the techniques used to clear mucus from a baby’s lungs the audience reaction is part shock, part horror, and very funny.
Her onslaught into stand-up comedy is relatively new so she double checks with the audience every now and then that they’re still with her, but she doesn’t really flinch when something slightly wafts to the back of the room without a response, Sarah just takes it all in her stride, which as she remarks, in her post menopause days shouldn’t be too wide for too long, or something may drop, if not droop.
I was the minority in an audience of women, some of whom were midwifes themselves, so the laughter was frequently very ‘knowing’. There was far more ribaldry and frankness that you’d expect from such an unassuming woman. Naughty at times but pretty darn funny.
That’s four and a half stars from me Sarah, because there was no spotlight on you, so it was difficult to see your face in all the purple and blue light.
Sarah Stewart is in Midwife Crisis at The Hymn Bar during Adelaide Fringe until 23 February.
