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MerryGlenne

I'm the editor of skirt! in Augusta, GA/Aiken, SC

I'm a bargain shopper, a hippie, my own worst critic, honest to a fault, and always on a diet. I'm most happy at home with my new hubby and, the other love of my life, my six-year-old long-haired dauchshund Divot. ...

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A Mother's Choice

Surprised to hear from me? You probably thought I had that baby already, huh? No, unfort, no such luck...not yet, at least.

 So, the reason I’ve been sort of MIA online this week is that yours truly had to make an unexpected trip to the ER (oh, that’s kind of contradictory, when is a trip to the ER ever planned?).

I had been experiencing chest pain for a few days. But, honestly, I just thought it was another lovely symptom of pregnancy (like nose bleeds and headaches). And I hated to call my doctor’s office with yet another complaint (I was starting to feel like a hypocondriact and I knew my OB was home with a pulmonary embolism). But, once I fessed up to the pain and told my mom and husband about it, they both encouraged me to call the nurse.

When I told the nurse about the sharp sporatic pain in the right side of my chest, she told me I needed to be in the ER-RIGHT AWAY! My sweet hubby (covered in dirt from a morning of laying sod at the golf course), rushed me to the hospital for what we thought would be a quick blood pressure check and a stern order from the physician to take it easy!

My blood pressure was high, my EKG was normal, fetal monitoring looked great, blood work was perfect, urinalysis: I don’t think they tested it (that cup of pee was still sitting on the counter when we left eight hours later). And the on-call OB physician was unavailable! W-H-A-T-??? 

At first, I wasn’t concerned in the least that the OB hadn’t called the ER physician back. Well, until the ER physician didn’t want to discharge me without checking first to see if I had a blood clot. Sounds fine, right? Wrong! The only test that would show a blood clot was a cat scan, a totally non-invasive test which presented very little risk to me...but what about my baby?

Well, developmentally it wasn’t risky to Isabella at all (given that she’s almost fully developed). But they couldn’t guarantee me that the radiation she’d experience wouldn’t later cause Leukemia or some other kind of cancer.

The ER physician, Dr. Newman (the only doctor’s name I’ll mention in this blog), was truly one of the most caring, understanding, knowledgeable and compassionate doctors I’ve every encountered. But I still wanted to discuss the potential risks with an OB before having the scan. She gave my husband and I time to discuss, me time to cry it all out, my mom time to call everyone she’s ever known that might know about a CT scan and pregnancy, and the OB time to call back. But the on-call OB never called back.

Sweet Dr. Newman, printed out radiology board papers discussing CT and pregnancy, called her sister who was a new mom and a radiologist, and tried to convince me that the risk of me leaving and (to be blunt) dropping dead with a blood clot was greater than the small risk to the baby.

It felt like I was choosing between my health and that of my baby. And for the first time in my life, there was no decision to be made. I couldn’t do it. All I could picture was holding my little four year old’s hand as she sat in this same bed, bald from cancer. Me wishing it was me that was sick, instead of her. But, on the other hand,  the one that my husband was now holding as we cried, what about me? Would I even wake up in the morning? Would this baby we both loved so much even be born if this blood clot made its way to my heart? Was it worth subjecting our child to this radiation? Did my chest really hurt that bad? WHY WASN’T THE DOCTOR CALLING US BACK?

The ER nurse suggested I try the on-call physician myself. I tried twice and the second time, his nurse said he didn’t have time to talk to me, but that he said if the ER doctor said I should do it, I should. Well, that was comforting.

After another hour or so of deliberation. I (well, we) decided to have the test. Every doctor in one way or another was saying I needed it. But when the CT tech peered into ER room 20 and saw my big pregnant belly, it was obvious that she didn’t feel comfortable with testing me. It was difficult to understand her, as her English wasn’t great. But as she wheeled me into the radiology room, she communicated that the radiation would be spread all over my body, that her daughter just had a baby and that she would have never let her have this test, and that the radiologist would not sign off and approve of the scan.

My husband and mother watched as I got more and more nervous and visibly upset about the test. My husband asked her to politely shut up, put the damn apron on me, and do the test. She and the radiologist refused. We asked to speak with the radiologist immediately, and the CT tech said he doesn’t speak to patients. My mom asked who the radiologist was. And since the radiologist knew my mother, he agreed to speak with her.

Excuse me? I’m 28 years old. And the doctor will speak with my mother about MY health decision and not me and my husband? Oh how I love this good ole boy network where even when it comes to healthcare, it’s all about who you know.

After my  mother spoke with the radiologist, I was wheeled back into ER room 20. And the foreign CT tech went to explain to Dr. Newman that the radiologist refused to scan me. We could hear the battle going on in the hallway. Dr. Newman was furious, and I don’t blame her. My health was her responsibility, if she orders a scan, her patient doesn’t need to hear the dangers and, once again, be forced to make a decision.

After that, there was no way in hell that I was having that test. Just as I asked my husband to get me water (a little parched from nearly seven hours of no liquids), the ER physician was able to reach a different doctor in my OB’s practice. He discussed the procedure with me and convinced me not to leave the hopsital without it. He assured me that nothing would happen to my baby.

Well, of course, I agreed to the scan. And, thankfully, of course, there was no blood clot. There was just some inflamation around my lungs and I could finally go home.

This was two days ago, and as I write this blog today, I can still sob about it. It was truly the worst decision I’ve ever had to make. And according to the moms I’ve shared my story with, this is just one of many tough decisions that lie ahead. “Welcome to Motherhood!”