So I was supposed to go in for a checkup and histopathology reports on Friday, but I have this damn essay to do and I forgot. I rescheduled for today, and yup, I forgot again.
Tonight I had a phone call from the lovely woman in EPAC (Emergency Pregnancy Assessment Clinic). Apparently my histopathology was all fine, she checked that my symptoms were all within normal limits, and informed me of what to expect in the coming months, and what to do if it doesn’t happen (i.e., have a normal period).
Then she told me that there was no need to come in, saving me another trip to that dreadful place. I thanked her profusely, and asked her if she remembered me from 2010. She did, and she knew that Archimedes had died, even though I hadn’t told her – clearly the hospital grapevine is working. Of all the people I met during those months, hers is a face I remember as being always a positive, smiling and caring one. I took the opportunity to tell her what her work had meant to me all those months ago, and we both had a little cry.
I also told her about some of the awful stuff that happened, and she encouraged me to put it in writing to the hospital, in the hope that other women don’t have to suffer through the same crap. It must be an immensely difficult place to work, giving people bad news so often, I hope it gave her some joy to know that the bad news is better coming from someone who really does seem to care.
She could teach a few health professionals a thing or two 😉