You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.
-Cayla Mills
I was rolled into a delivery room first thing in the morning. I already had an IV in one arm and bruises all over the other. They told me they’d need another IV for the purposes of blood withdrawal. My veins were so small elsewhere and unable to be found thanks to all the poking that one of my IVs had to be dedicated to blood withdrawl at this point. I looked them square in the face and said “NO, IM DONE”. I had literally had enough. I felt miserable and sick and tired and I was through with all of it. They insisted this would be the last one. They promised. I told them fine…but this would be it. They would not be allowed to do another period.
Since it was difficult to find my veins, they brought in an ultrasound machine to find a good vein they could use and found one right under my wrist on the side of my right arm. That was a painful one. I screamed “FUCK!”. My mother was appalled and scolded me. The nurses insisted it was okay as they knew how sick and horrible I must have been feeling.
The time rolled around for my next dose of BP medicine. This time it was already crushed for me; all I had to do was mix it in water. I looked down at these pills that I absolutely hated to take because of the searing headache and nausea and noticed something new. It was blue. Not a single one of my other doses in the four days I had been there had they been blue – always white. I pointed it out to my mother and the nurse who gave it to me. Mom agreed that was weird, but the nurse insisted time and time again that it was the correct pill based on what the pharmacy labeled it. My mom reminded me that different companies make the same medication, but usually have different colors or shapes. I took the first of 4 pills and immediately stopped. “Okay, I really don’t think this is the correct pill….this one actually doesn’t taste bad…if this really is my medicine can you make sure im given this from now on instead of the white ones?” My request and comment made the nurse not give me the other 3 pills. She was going to double check with the pharmacy before giving me the others. There was no way to verify what the logo on the pills were since they had been crushed ahead of time.
About 30 minutes later, the pharmacy couldn’t give an explanation as to what the blue pill was and had sent 4 white pills. So at this point, I had taken a mysterious blue pill that no one knew what it was. This meant the pharmacist who filled the order was probably in a hurry and put someone else’s medicine in my bag. I began taking the correct medicine and after the 2nd pill, threw up everything. I was crying. My mom was relieved the see the blue pill had come up as well.
Another doctor had come in and said they’d like to perform an echocardiogram before I delivered. They wanted to be sure the pulmonary edema was from the pre-eclampsia and not my own heart failure. When I talked to my mom many weeks later about what happened to me, she said this was the thing that scared her the most. She has been an RN for over 30 years, but completely forgot that could very well be a reason for it and held her breath until the echocardiogram was performed. The doctor turned to us and said the heart looked good…the pulmonary edema was definitely due to the pre-eclampsia.
A different OB had come in by this time and told me due to the dire situation, I wouldn’t be delivering vaginally. It was absolutely necessary to get the baby out as fast as possible and it would be by C-section. I acknowledged the severity of the situation and merely asked the OB if she would get me a medication to help me calm my nerves before I went in, and she happily agreed.
They gave my husband his OR gear and I saw him break down. He was scared. He was scared for me; he was scared for the baby. He also hadn’t slept in the last 48 hours as I had rapidly deteriorated. I couldn’t be there for him. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I had something else that I was in the middle of and I felt sick and weak and dizzy….I just had to concentrate on getting this baby out and FINALLY finding out what was wrong with her heart and what kind of surgery we were looking at for her.
The nurses told my husband they’d come back to get him in a bit as they rolled me into the OR .
For Grief's Sake 