Tag: The Life of Lara

More fevers. Docs decided to drain ooze.

Another cannula tissued. I think it is my mutant clotting factor that keeps blocking them and fluids start going into my tissues (instead of the vein), leaving large, painful bruises. Docs decided to put in a PICC line.

Was told I could have both done together under a twilight sedation – ie, I would be off my head when it happened. I signed a consent form.

PICC line nurse came and told me that it couldn’t be done all together. That I couldn’t have the twilight sedation, but it wouldn’t be that painful, and it would be all over within half an hour. She lied.

It was painful, and it took ages. And it failed.

She got from below the crook of the arm, to the armpit, and then it wouldn’t go any further. After over an hour of stinging local anaesthetic, poking, prodding, pulling, and quite serious pain, she was forced to give up and pull everything out.

By that stage I was almost hysterical, and they left me alone to chill out for a while. And I had missed Oprah.

Poor dad was almost as traumatised as I was, so a few hours off was a huge relief.

Eventually the douchecanoe* came to wheel me down for my next procedure. I asked the nurse that accompanied me about the sedation, and she said she would ask when we arrived.

On arrival, I was told that “we don’t do that here”, and “it’s not an option”. At this point, the pain was getting worse and my temperature was rocketing. I had also missed two doses of antibiotics, so the feelings of fear, pain, and extreme sadness were almost overwhelming.

So I cracked it. I refused to consent to the procedure until I was able to speak to my doctor. I got cranky about being patronised, being told that I was being a wuss, that I was causing trouble, that I was compromising my medical care.

Fuck that. I know my rights, and I know what I am capable of withstanding. And I know I am not a wuss. There are many things you can say about me, but I don’t think anybody has the right to call me a wuss – especially after these last few weeks.

So eventually the gorgeous Armani arrived (part of Team Lara), and arranged some valium for me, as well as another cannula – so at least they can get antibiotics into me while we argue about the PICC line again.

I got the valium (tablets), and 30 mins later went in for the procedure. The valium had not yet taken effect, but I was feeling a little calmer.

Under ultrasound, they found the pocket of ooze has shrunk, and there was no point doing an aspiration. Then they did a CT scan just to be sure.

Tomorrow we will look at the result of the CT scan and have another confab. More news as it comes to hand.

But I would like it on the record that being needle shy after everything I have been through does not make me a wuss.

And I would like to say a huge thank you to Steph, who despite having three kids of her own, has been by my side so much this last week, and I honestly don’t know how I would have go through some of those days without her humour and strength.

*Speaking of the douchcanoe – both Steph and mum met him today, and bot agree with my assessment that he is generally a kind man who means well, and there is no benefit in reporting him.

When I first started researching Pre-premature rupture of membranes (PPROM), I found that with a rupture at 15 weeks, the median latency (how long the pregnancy continues) is 72 days, or 10 weeks, 2 days. That would take me to 25 weeks, 2 days. Which takes me to Monday.

Let’s hope I am better than “average” on this one 🙂

I went to the hospital today, and saw another registrar. Fortunately, I also saw the first doctor I had seen there, who I really like. She is the senior fellow, and is specialising in high risk pregnancies. She (Roshini) has taken a special interest in my case, and apparently I will be able to see her at each weekly visit, rather than a different resident each week. This is great news – I will be able to have a single point of contact, and it’s someone I both trust and like, and who has a sense of humour!

So I am still healthy, still have normal blood pressure, normal pee, normal blood. Still pregnant (still spewing, though much lees), and still have two little heartbeats banging away. Oh, and I have lost 7kg since I booked in a couple of months ago.

If I owe you an email, you can expect it in the next couple of days, I am slowly catching up 🙂

As I enter my third week of bed rest, I am reduced to recording the adventures of other people. Mark took Inigo to the park yesterday, and sent me this picture.

And today they went to visit our friends Richard and Miriam, who welcomed baby Anastasia on Wednesday. Richard and Mark have put an extra car seat in the vintage Jaguar, and have taken Oscar and Inigo to the zoo.

I hope they have fun, and take lots of pictures for me to enjoy vicariously.

Apparently, I have a genetic mutation that makes my blood prone to clots. Factor V Leiden, for which I am heterozygous for (which is less scary than homozygous), could have been the cause of the issues I had with Inigo’s birth, but it probably wouldn’t have anything to do with what is happening now. If this pregnancy continues though, I will probably need to be on blood thinners at some point.

I found this out, because my gorgeous midwives at Hornsby hospital suggested that I get tested for it because of the state of Inigo’s placenta. I asked my OB to test for it, and then today he rang and asked me why he had decided to test for it. And then he told me I’m a mutant.

It explains a lot.

As for my hospital visit yesterday, it took nearly 5 hours to pee in a jar, visit the vampires (give blood), have my blood pressure taken 80/120, have a long conversation with the high risk OB, and then a visit with the Midwife that co-ordinates the high risk patients. She wanted to know if we wanted to see a social worker to talk about how horrible this experience is. Um, no, I don’t think so. Frankly, if we were all cheery and full of coping, I’d suggest a padded cell, but I can’t see the social worker being able to make a huge amount of difference. This is an awful situation, it is NORMAL to feel awful. We’re doing well considering.

I’ve been told that I will have to go to the hospital twice a week, every Monday and Thursday, where I will have to pee in a jar, visit the vampires, have my blood pressure taken, and then wait around until a doctor has time to see me. I will be spending a great deal of time at the hospital, and a great deal of money in the car park ($8 in coins needed each time!).

So I am loving my iPad right now, and looking forward to getting a sim card so I can have internets in the waiting room…

And this is why I love my husband – the care package he came home with on the weekend. A new top of the line iPad, the new Kylie album, the new Scissor Sisters album, and some plastic cheese (no, I wouldn’t normally eat this shit, it’s a pregnancy thing).

After spending a few hours at the hospital, talking to midwives and doctors about how to proceed, which drugs I could and could not be given because of my previous c/s, and how long we could wait before I went into labour naturally, I was given a blood test (to check for infection), and sent over to ultrasound to make sure there was no heartbeat.

Well, there was a heartbeat. Two, in fact. Both babies are alive and well, with healthy little heartbeats, and measuring big for gestational age. No amniotic fluid, but alive.

We have decided to proceed with the pregnancy, I will remain on bedrest, and switch my care to the high risk clinic at Westmead. If these babies are born alive, it is very likely they will come early, and they will need a neo-natal intensive care ward, so Westmead is the most obvious choice, despite the bus shelter atmosphere of the waiting room.

And if we make it to 20-ish weeks, I’ll be booked in as an in patient to continue my bed rest in less comfortable surroundings, but closer to a NICU.

So sorry for the drama, but you can imagine that Mark and I have been all over the place emotionally today.

Mark took this video a few months ago, but rest assured, he is still cute.