Or chocolate and NON-diet soda. Chocolate good.
Previous - this entry written on May 02, 2006 at 11:59 am - Next
Ok. A bit more than 24 hours ago I started writing a very long, very detailed entry. I got about ten VERY large paragraphs into it and exploded.
As in, blood going everywhere, huge chunks literally projectile-squirted out, full-blown misscarriage complete with Cramps Of Doom, dizziness, and enough blood loss in the first ten minutes to scare the bejezus out of me, assuming I had any IN me.
So, without posting the paragraphs, off I go to the ER, laptop and cell phone and change of clothing included, a towel between my legs because I was spurting too much blood for a pad to hold, not counting the chunks (Hi, this entry will be seriously TMI in case you haven't noticed, sorry). Caleb dropped me off there and headed to work, with the plan that I would call him when I was out and he'd come ferry me home, and all would be well.
First off, let me say that this was the only time in memory that the entire freaking staff seemed desperately determined to be polite, kind, friendly, and helpful at that fucking ER. Yes, I went to the Hated One, mostly because I had just ended up there a couple days ago which is when I found out I was pregnant, and still had all the test results, ultrasound charts, etc, so figured it might save them some time and at least I'd know who to scream at.
The nurse they assigned me was there pretty much the entire stay, which was from, oh, 9-ish until they sent me out at 2-ish. This is impressive as usually in ERs they will let you see one person at a time for a whopping five minutes, interspersed with hours of not-seeing-anyone. She stuck to me like GLUE, I think mostly because they were afraid I'd pass out or explode worse or start spitting pea soup and have my head rotating and didn't want it to happen when I was unattended.
I had the extreme pleasure of passing a fist-sized chunk of bloody flesh in front of her. She, in turn, had the thrill of being there to see the ultrasound report come in saying my uterus and the fetus were intact and healthy. Yes, let me repeat this: I had been bleeding enough that they had me hooked up to an IV and were discussing switching it to blood instead of IV fluid, was passing huge chunks, in agonizing pain, literally lost enough matter that I and those attending were pretty sure I had miscarried completely...
...but apparently my uterus is intact, the fetus is intact, everything is Alive And Well, and despite the fact that I'm STILL bleeding as they send me out, they can't figure out WHY and didn't feel the need to keep me there, mostly I think out of their usual stupidity but also 'cos frankly, EVERYONE was absolutely clueless as to wtf was going on or how it was even possible. I had assorted medical people coming in just to look at me in bafflement for a minute, then walk out again. It was great.
So, I get Sent Home, told to rest and drink fluids and take tylenol and see an OBGYN ASAP. I get out... and discover hey, the cell phone? Dead as a doornail. Great. And I don't have Caleb's other cell number written down anywhere with me, I discover, nor will my laptop connect to the 'net there so I can look it up.
I argue the nurse in the admittance area into letting me make a long-distance call to Puppy, the only person whose number I know off the top of my head who a) usually answers his phone, and b) knows how to get in touch with Caleb (usually) easily and quickly. He hops online to message Cal and I go outside to sit. This is around 2:00.
Around 3:00, when no Caleb is there, I go back in, argue the nurse into letting me make a long-distance call again, and get no answer... I remember I have Ammon's number with me and as that's local, DO get to call it, and leave a voicemail.
4:00 arrives, bringing no Caleb. The nurse says no more long-distance calls, I've already left a voicemail with Ammon so it's not like calling back will help anything, and I have no other phone numbers to try, certainly nothing local. I've been sitting there for two hours now, half of it inside with Insane Screaming Children and half of it outside with Insane Half-Naked Drooling Old Man. I say fuck it, please call me a cab.
Cab arrives, around 4:20-4:30, despite her telling me the cab company said 5 minutes. I look around - nope, still no Caleb, still no functional cell phone, the children are scaring me and the old guy got escorted off twice already but keeps coming back. I say fuck it again, get in the cab, try to navigate while in pain and frustrated to Cal's office, whose address I don't know and which I apparently do NOT know how to find, despite sort of thinking I did.
The cab's dispatcher tries looking up his business to see if they can find the address. No go. I try 411 on the cabbie's cell phone. No go. I convince him to let me make a long-distance call and call Puppy again... who does answer this time, apparently with Caleb already on the phone with him?! ...and it turns out Caleb arrived all of five minutes after I left.
THe cabbie takes me back to the Apartment, where Caleb is waiting now, and Cal hops in to get a ride down to the nearest store to get cash from his card 'cos the cabbie won't take said card and neither of us had cash on hand to pay the fare, which ended up only being about $30 including the lots-of-circling-looking-for-cal's-work so the other company's estimate of $60 to get home? Bullshit, I now know if I have $20-$30 I can get home from the hospital, sort-of good news, but anyway.
We come in, crash... I'm on-and-offline a bit on the laptop, sleeping a bit, trying to eat a bit, mostly just exhausted and still woozy from bloodloss and feeling like crap for costing $30 plus the ER charge and still being pregnant and fucking up Caleb's day and fucking up my day and... yeah.
So now it's today, Tuesday. I'm awake, sorta. Online, sorta. Catnapping a lot, still feeling exhausted and shaky. Queasy, cramping, and craving... my GOD the cravings. I am so tempted to bully Puppy into providing me whatever the latest credit card number is (that boy changes cards more than I change... well, anything) so I can get some food that my tummy will actually keep down, since the Indian place doesn't expect to SEE the card, they just want the number and exp date when you call in and a signature when they arrive. I'd use our card but again, with the broke after the cab fare, the ER costs, and the fact that I think it's not yet payday anyway. *sigh* I'd also settle for Subway sammiches, but they don't deliver and I have no way to get them, or for a GOOD hamburger, but same deal. This bites so much I can't even express it, I hate hate hate cravings, and they are kicking in STRONG right now what with the not really eating for two days and the massive bloodloss and so on.
The cell phone is still AWOL, I doubt I'll hear the land line or be able to answer it if I do, about the only way to get in touch with me right now is AIM or AltMe... I'm just going to curl up, feel crappy, and pray somehow the day improves.
Oh, edit, in case Caleb reads this: love, please please PLEASE at least bring home something cold and non-diet to drink, the nutrasweet is seriously turning my stomach and there's kinda jack-all else here.
Previous - Next
Hosted by Diaryland - All Rights Reserved - Image, Layout, and Content copyright Jax Raven -
- Do Not Feed The Moose -