So today is Tuesday, but I don’t want to talk about today. I want to talk about Sunday.
Sunday I had lots of plans. Do some laundry, make some bread, clean up a little, enlist Nathan to do a bunch of stuff. You know, normal weekend stuff.
What I did not want to do was pass a small blood clot and bleed a little. Now in the interest of full disclosure, it wasn’t fresh blood, more of a browny sludge (you can thank me later).
So I did what any pregnant women does. I panicked a little, then I rang my hospital for advice. Said advice being, ‘We’re really sorry that you live an hour away, but we DO need to see you. Can you come in?’
And being Sunday, of course I could come in, because Nathan was home and Mum was available to watch Amy.
24 weeks and spotting.
One vaginal exam and an ultrasound later, they had no idea where the bleeding was coming from, or what might be causing it. They said ‘Another doctor will be around to talk to you soon’.
They lied.
Soon for me, is in the next 30 minutes maybe 45 if they are busy. Soon is NOT nearly 3 hours later.
And 3 hours later would have been okay, if the doctor would have actually been able to tell me something. Or at least apologize for soon not actually being soon.
Diagnosis – No idea. Go home. And he was rude about it.
Firstly he was Indian, which, fine. He’s Indian, it’s not going to affect how he does his job. He spoke good English and yada yada yada.
However.
He did not UNDERSTAND English very well. Our whole conversation was him telling me what I was meant to do, me asking him to clarify and him completely misunderstanding me and talking me in a whole big circle again.
He could not tell me why I was spotting. He could not tell me the results of the swab they took, nor the urine test. He refused to answer all questions as to why I might be bleeding instead answering with a ‘well the ultrasound looks normal, so we think everything is fine’. He couldn’t tell me if I had an infection (a possibility bandied around while I was in the awkward position of having my ankles together and my knees apart wearing no pants).
He asked me where I lived.
‘About an hour out of Town in *insert suburb here*’
‘Is that towards Launceston? Or down south?’
‘No, towards Launceston’
‘Well why are you here then? Why aren’t you being seen at Launceston General?’
‘Because this hospital is closer?’
‘But why you not go to Launceston instead? Or another Hospital closer?’
‘Because this is the closest hospital! This is the ONLY hospital within a 100km radius’
(You arrogant idiot! Why else do you think I would travel an hour ON A SUNDAY to be checked out!)
‘Oh’
(If you didn’t find him telling me to go to another hospital ironically hilarious, it’s because I have never mentioned how bad the funding for our health system is at the moment. All the smaller health clinics and hospitals have been closed. And even if they were still operating? Hobart is still closer than ANY of them! AND none of them are equipped to birth babies.)
He gave me an order for blood tests and told me I had to get them done before my next appointment with the midwives. Then he contradicted himself a bunch of times until I had no fucking idea what I was meant to do with the blood tests.
Further examination of the order has shown that they are stock standard 26 week blood tests that will be drawn at my next appointment. They do not require a special trip into town and they are not testing for why I might be bleeding. Asshole.
According to an ultrasound, the baby is fine and my placenta is fine. No obvious cause of any bleeding.
I have been given orders to return if I feel the need (fat fucking chance. I will go back if I am in active labour, or if I am bleeding red.) or to call for reassurance.
I felt like I was treated badly by the doctors. The first doctor who did the exam and ultrasound, asked my age and then told me how ‘very very young’ I was. Quite a few times. Then she said ‘And you have a 2 year old at home? Goodness you are YOUNG’.
Yes lady, I know I am young. I don’t feel young. I made the conscious decision to have my children NOW rather than when I am 35. This is what works for us. We own our own home, I write on the Internet (for small amounts of money) and I planned my life this way. My pregnancies were not accidental.
Back the fuck off.
I left stressed and upset, feeling like I hadn’t been listened to. All I wanted to know is WHY I was bleeding and what might have been causing it. Failing that, a decent consolation that no, everything is fine and none of this will affect your baby would have worked for me.
Anything except what I got.
I do need to mention the Midwives at my hospital though. The lady who was there for my exam, did the Doppler for a heartbeat and showed me where the coffee and tea making stuff was, she was lovely. So absolutely lovely. Thank you to her.
So today is now Tuesday and I have very light pink staining. I get crampy when I stand up for more than 5 minutes and I am spending more time stressing than I reasonably should. The good thing is, any contractions I might have are still Braxton Hicks and while uncomfortable, aren’t painful.
Sigh.
So, that’s what’s been up with me. How are you?