Limbo (I think I’m going to be sick)

It’s only ten o’clock in the morning. I’ve had time to get back from the Mothership Hospital and eat breakfast. We drove down there just as the sun was rising over a city transformed into a silvered, sugared version of its usual self (it’s below freezing down here). Such beautiful days we’ve had so far this year. The irony.

Instead of the usual sonographer (I’ve just found out the NHS calls them sonographers, not ‘ultrasound technicians’ or ‘wand-monkeys’), we actually got the actual consultant (do you call them consultants in the States/Down Under? The doctors in charge of the clinic?). She got off to a good start by completely blanking us as the nurse showed us into the room, being busy on the computer. H and I went behind the curtain, I undressed and lay down, and we waited while she talked scheduling and such with the nurse as if she had no concept whatsoever that someone had just taken her knickers off ten feet from her desk.

I was a little tetchy at this point, and entertained myself by composing sarcastic remarks I probably wouldn’t dream of using to her face.

However, when she came through the curtain she did say hello and introduce herself civilly, and from then on acted like a good doctor. Brisk, matter-of-fact, treating us as if we were perfectly intelligent, not unsympathetic (I even got a pat on the knee when she had finished reaming me out with the dildo-cam). I think we simply didn’t exist for her until she’d switched her patient-mode on.

Anyway, my insides were thoroughly explored, and while Cute Ute didn’t seem to mind it much, I think my pancreas felt she was getting a little over-zealous in there. Especially when she started pressing down on my abdomen to jostle my organs into more photogenic configurations. At least she said ‘sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable’.

Findings:

  1. So far, nothing pregnancy-ish visible anywhere. Given that they don’t expect anything to be visible on a scan until your beta hits about 1000, this is exactly as expected and possibly even vaguely reassuring.
  2. Fallopian tube still thread-like and near-invisible.
  3. Satsuma had gone for a little meander into the recesses of my abdomen and had to be coaxed into view with a hard prod on the belly from outside, but looked much as usual when excavated.
  4. Now this was interesting. She became quite fascinated by a something in the muscle of the womb. She asked if I’d ever been told I had fibroids. I explained all about Cute Ute’s cute heart-shape, and that that had been nearly diagnosed as a fibroid at one point, but she didn’t seem convinced. This was something else. This was, in fact, probably a fibroid. But, she explained, it had nothing to do with the possible pregnancy.

Upshot, I am not in imminent danger of rupturing an internal organ. But we can’t be sure this pregnancy is viable. We can’t even see the pregnancy. As, at best guess, I am 13 dpo, or, possibly, seven weeks into a prolonged miscarriage with multiple bleeding episodes (no one seems to be taking the ‘left over from October’ scenario very seriously – I don’t know if this reassures or annoys me), the only thing to do is wait until my beta SHOULD be over 1000, and check it again.

So I have been booked in for another beta in a week. A week! I mean, yes, that makes perfect sense, my intellect and logical faculties grasp this absolutely, but a week? We have to hang about in limbo for a week?

[May takes short break in which to beat head against stair-way newel-post]

Meanwhile, my body is now taking this all very seriously indeed, and is doing nausea, hyperactive sense of smell and occasional aching breasts. You know, as I am, against all odds, however temporarily, and in the teeth of much melodrama, pregnant.

Next steps, visit GP. Decide if I need to stay off work, or actually go to work. As I am on exploding-tube-watch, and have been told over and over again to come yea verily most swiftly back to hospital if I get pain or bleeding or fainting or dizziness or cold clammy shivers or low blood pressure or anything at all that bothers me in any way, is it better for me to be in an office surrounded by persons who all nominally know how to use a telephone, or will I be so flustered and of so little use it’s better for me to stay at home? Will work, who do know something of the situation, even want me there at all in my role of Possible Medical Liability? Is it, however, safe for me to spend hours and hours on me tod? Things to bother the GP about.

I will no doubt be back to update this later today.

And maybe post about other stuff, like family, New Year’s Resolutions, how H is doing, OMFG FIBROIDS, and so on.

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13 responses to “Limbo (I think I’m going to be sick)

  • Twangy

    So, hmm, about work, would *you* feel comfortable there? (Never mind them for a minute). Sometimes the semblance of normality is calming. Sometimes it’s really not. Also, is it close enough to the Mothership?
    You could try it maybe, if you feel up to it? Anyway, the GP will advise no doubt.
    Good luck today. xx

  • Z

    *keeps fingers crossed*

  • QoB

    hope the GP is helpful with regard to relative risk and benefits of going into work. maybe you could take on a task that keeps you in more regular contact with colleagues, or have H call you every hour just in case?

    ~~good thoughts~~

  • womb for improvement

    Who is the coolest person in the hospital?
    The Ultra-Sound Guy

    (And when he is away it is the Hip Replacement Guy).

    Sorry could resist.

    I have to say your innards are making compulsive reading.

    Bets of luck.

  • a

    Here’s my view on work…it’s always better to show up, even if you have no intention of doing anything other than inspecting your fingernails for 8 hours straight. Sometimes, attendance is more important than performance. Unless your coworkers suck, then you should stay home. 🙂

    I would say that this is certainly making for a lively new year. I hope 2010 is less confusing and worrying than it has started out. Good luck – I know a week is an eternity.

  • Heather

    waiting sucks
    limbo is torture
    I’m so sorry you don’t have answers.
    thinking of you guys. Lots of love.

  • bkwyrm

    Oh, God, LIMBO.
    Good wishes coming your way from Chicago. I’m on tenterhooks for you.

  • katie

    If you can cope with work, I’m sure it’s safe. It’s really about what you can cope with.

  • MFA Mama

    Ugh, limbo, gahhhh can’t you explain to these people that THE INNERNET NEEDS TO KNOW BEFORE A WEEK FROM NOW?!? Because even if you can handle the wait with any sort of composure I? CANNOT!

    All good news on the no-exploding-ish-looking tube, and I don’t put much stock in the leftover-from-October theory simply because if your beta had dropped down to 4 then it wouldn’t start going back UP again without an embryo present, it just wouldn’t (well unless you had a REALLY rare and practically unheard of medical issue that you’d best not Google, just take my word for it it’s nigh-on impossible).

    As to fibroids, MEH. Bastard things. That’s what caused me to have all the surgical drama last summer (although because I’m special and endometriosis is a whore I had the thing on my OVARY–yes that’s right, endometrial tissue migrated up my tube onto an ovary and, having set up shop, decided to sprout a fibroma the size of a billiard ball) and I am not a fan of their work.

    I say go on in to work if you’re feeling up to it. It’s good to show up, as a noted, and also the distraction might help. If you’re not feeling up to it then absolutely give Dr. Tashless the wobbly-lip until he writes you out of work for the duration of…whatever this is.

    Here in the States we don’t differentiate, really, once they’re in private practice. They’re all just doctors and identify as their specialties (General Practitioner, OB/GYN, orthopedist, etc.). In hospitals they’re residents when they’re still in training, then either fellows or attendings (attendings being the higher-ranking ones) in their various specialties.

  • Martin

    Did I mention all this was just nuts?

  • Minawolf

    Hoping that your 2010 is full of promise.

  • Valery

    mhm, adding to Martin, this is Nuts in January?

  • Lesley

    Whoa, a week is a long time for this type of thing. The time might pass quicker for you if you can go to work. Fingers crossed!

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