Show vs Tell

I've never been one to try to tell other writers how they should write. Most of the advice I have come across from other people has provoked the reaction in me of 'Yeah, I know that.' The one thing that was new to me and the most difficult to get my head around was this business of 'show don't tell'. What was that supposed to mean? We are story-tellers, aren't we?
   After much tweaking and re-writing and many hours soaking in the bath to consider this problem, I have come up with the following illustration which I hope might help.
   The thing to remember when doing this is that style needs to vary depending on what you are writing. If it is a short story the 'tell' version might be better. In short stories you are limited to the number of words you can use and 'showing' often uses more.

  So this is my example. It's not definitive. It might not even be right. This example is from a novel.

First Version - Telling

Beatrice returned to the waiting room. As soon as she sat down David started crying again, arching his back and turning his head towards her body, seeking her breast. Sighing deeply, a feeling of hopelessness filled her as she waited to be called into the doctor.

The doctor seemed more concerned with her condition than with David when she finally saw him. He was quick to diagnose post-natal depression and wrote a prescription for some pills. When she mentioned David he was at first dismissive. He looked into his ears and said they were fine, nothing causing any obstruction that might affect the hearing. He insisted the baby was far too young to be sure of anything. Keep an eye on him and see how he went on was all he would say. So Beatrice left the surgery with a prescription for anti-depressant pills and the fear that her son had something wrong with him.

Second Version. - Showing
      Beatrice returned to the waiting room. As soon as she sat down David started crying again, arching his back and turning his head towards her body, seeking her breast. Sighing deeply, a feeling of hopelessness filled her as she waited to be called into the doctor.

She entered the consulting room feeling more than a little nervous. She did not know any of the doctors at this practise very well. Both she and Calvin had signed on with this surgery after getting married but apart from a few visits during her pregnancy to get treatment for her constant vomiting she had been fit and well and had rarely seen a doctor. This one seemed friendly enough. The sign outside the consulting room said he was Dr. Andrews. He smiled encouragingly as she entered the consulting room and nodded towards the chair next to his desk. He looked to be about fifty, which was reassuring. Beatrice didn't trust young doctors.

“And what can I do for you today?” he asked.

“The nurse was concerned about David. She thinks he might have problems with his hearing.”

      The doctor nodded.
      “Yes, she did tell me. Let’s have a look.”

Trying to look into the ears of a three month old baby was not an easy task. David was fascinated by the instrument the doctor was holding and wanted to see it, turning his head to follow the doctor’s movements. He did not want it anywhere near his head. Beatrice struggled to hold him as he wriggled and arched his back to get away but eventually the doctor managed to peer into each ear with his otoscope.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” the doctor said as he returned to his seat. “Both ears look clear of any infection or blockage. No sign of glue-ear. I suggest you just keep an eye on him. I’m sure as time goes by he will start to respond to sound. Now, how about you? How are you coping.”

Beatrice sighed.

“Oh, I’m fine. Tired, of course. He wants feeding all the time. We haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since he was born. And I didn’t think I’d miss work as much as I do.”

“Yes, having your first baby is a big change of life-style,” the doctor agreed. “But it does get better. Believe me, I’ve brought up three kids of my own. Now I suggest you start taking him off the breast milk. He’s three months old now so the danger time has passed, he should be able to survive on his own immune system. And start introducing a bit of solid food to his diet. The nurse has probably already told you this, but it doesn’t hurt to repeat it. A bit of rusk, pureed vegetables. Just a little but it will help satisfy him and he should start to sleep for longer. And I’m going to give you something to help you cope. Post-natal depression can be very debilitating. These tablets will help you sleep and make you feel better all round.”

Beatrice wondered how tablets could replace people and company but said nothing. She left the surgery more concerned about David than when she had arrived, but at least she had some pills.

See the difference? Now this wouldn't necessarily work for every type of writing or story, but this is my take on it. Whether it is right or not I do not know.