(again, the disclaimer: if you are easily grossed out, read at your own risk)
My (so far) Most Traumatic Night Ever ~ Part 3
A nurse brought in a gurney and asked me to get off of the exam table and onto the gurney for transport to my hospital room. I wasn’t sure I could get off that table. I had to go to the bathroom SO bad that I was sure I would have an accident trying to dismount. I did manage to get down and over to the gurney. At this point, I mentioned to the nurse that it was of dire importance that I get to a bathroom. (With out telling me about it, they had decided that they really didn’t need a urine sample after all) She followed me down the hall pushing my IV cart. She stood outside, I went inside, and my IV’s snaked under the door. I don’t think I could possibly describe the level of relief I experienced at that moment.
Back in the exam room the nurse instructed me to hoist myself onto the gurney. I was still hurting some. The pain medication in the IV hadn’t reached it’s full potential yet. I stood there a moment envisioning myself, back to the gurney, lifting myself up with my arms and scooting backward. I asked the nurse if, perhaps, there might be a step stool I could use. She said “oh, sure”, and left to get one. I remember thinking that she should have thought of that on her own. Anyway, I soon was on my way through the hall to the 6th floor of the hospital.
Into my room they brought a bassinet for ‘Ponygirl’ and a cot for Lorry. Since Jim had to work the next day and Jaymarie had to fly back to New Jersey the next day also, Lorry decided to stay the night with me to help take care of ‘Ponygirl’. When I got to my room I was all ready for them to perform an “ER”-like maneuver sliding me from the gurney onto my bed. No such luck. I had to scoot and slide on my own... again, to get situated. As luck would have it, I had to go to the bathroom again. After I had done that, I asked the (male) nurse if I could please have some underwear and pads (My originals had been thrown away in the ER), and a nursing gown. They went to the 8th floor (Maternity) and got the things I needed. Thinking back, I wish they had just put me in the maternity ward. I would have felt a little more comfortable. At that point, however, the Vicodin had really kicked in and I was feeling pretty good about things. I was able to joke around with the nurse a little. At 1 am, the pharmacist called up to my room and told me that I WOULD be able to nurse while taking the antibiotics. When I hung up the phone, ‘Ponygirl’ woke up. Right on cue. She hadn’t eaten and had stayed asleep for four hours! God was working.
Jim went home and slept in our new bed alone. I stayed in the hospital for two days. My sister, Junelle arrived and stayed with me the second night and Lorry had to go home. The only explanation for my illness was that it was a non-specific, post-partum, uterine infection. I guess it just happens sometimes and I was a lucky recipient of this mysterious infection. I continued with oral antibiotics when I returned home.*
That is the story of my most traumatic night ever.
It's quite alright with me if that's as traumatic as it ever gets!
* p.s. My doctor ignored my complaints of continued pain with normal activity for the next 3 months and upon the advice of a girlfriend who said that this kind of prolonged pain wasn't normal, I went to a second doctor who examined me and found me "full of infecton". I went on a 14-day course of strong antibiotics which finally cleared up the infection. My suspicion is that the original infection never went completely away and that I had an ongoing infection for 3 months. I also suspect that had something to do with my body's eventual rejection of my thyroid. Hashimoto's thyroiditus (sp?) is an auto-immune issue and I think that the root of it for me was that prolonged infection. I'll never know....