The Morning After

September 20, 2010

Good morning, everyone. Well, morning. There’s not much “good” about it today. Here’s the recap of what happened in the night.

Around midnight I went to the OR for an emergency D&C. Since my beta was still quite high but they couldn’t locate the source of the HCG (i.e. the fetus) they thought the risk of rupture was too great not to go in immediately. So the plan was to do the D&C and then check what came out for pregnancy tissue (they were thinking it might be molar). If there was tissue they would stop, let me rest and check my beta again in the morning. If it was way down I would go home.

If there wasn’t pregnancy tissue then they would have to do a laparoscopy and go on a hunting expedition to find it. And take it out if possible. It was due to this contingency that they put me all the way under general anesthesia.

Well… there was no pregnancy tissue in the D&C. So they did the laparoscopy. I now have two incisions in my belly (I’m still a little unclear what the second one was for). They looked all around and finally saw a lump (actually they think it was two lumps) on my uterus. Apparently those little embies burrowed a little too far when they implanted. They didn’t just burrow in to the lining – they kept going. This part is still pretty hazy since it was explained to me while I was coming out of sedation. But it seems that those embies burrowed in to the uterine wall. Clearly they can’t stay there and clearly they couldn’t cut them out – I kind of need that uterus. Or at least I still might need it someday. And, although the pregnancy is not in the fallopian tube, this is still classified as an ectopic pregnancy.

So… after two procedures they have at least figured out the problem (although they have no idea why and say they’ve never seen this happen before). But now I have to stay in the hospital most of the week so they can monitor me while they give me a series of methotrexate shots to solve this little problem. I think I’m supposed to get 3 – one every other day. As well as some other shot on the off days (I think it counters the methotrexate – maybe to offset side effects?). But they want me to hang around here – presumably in case there’s an issue. Again, I’m a little hazy on this part.

One thing I’m not hazy on, but am confused about, is the MRI. They ordered an MRI to see if they can find an anatomical reason for WHY these embies did what they did. They told me I would go for an MRI at about 4am. Still hasn’t happened (it’s now mid morning). Until we do this MRI I won’t know whether or not we should even bother trying a FET later (much much later). They need to understand why it happened to determine whether it’s likely to happen again. We’ve got those four frosties and I don’t know if we’ll even be able to use them assuming we can even get to a point where we are emotionally and physically ready to.

The staff here have all been super super nice. They keep asking me if I want to speak to a chaplain or a social worker and many of the nurses are practically forcing pain killers in to me. I’m not a religious person. At all. I don’t want a chaplain. In fact, at the moment my way of dealing with this is ignoring it and focusing on the joys and problems my friends, family and tweeps are going through,. I just can’t deal with it right now. It’s TOO OVERWHELMING. I’m guessing it will hit me strong and knock me over sometime around the end of the week when I go home (that’s part of it too, I’d rather be a basketcase at home thankyouverymuch). I’m not big on public breakdowns so I’ll be attempting to hold it together for the next few days. I do promise that I WILL deal with it at some point. But I have to do it in my own way in my own time. And I think it will not be pretty. It will be decidedly UGLY.

As for Right Guy…. yesterday was his birthday. And I got him a night in the ER and an uncomfortable chair to sleep in while he waited on me. I feel HORRIBLE for him. My stupid body can’t seem to cooperate so I play with nature and this is what happens. And it doesn’t just affect me – it’s affects him. On the upside he is actually taking today off. He’s not really allowed to take days off – he’ll likely have to make it up at some point. But he didn’t want to be working Student Health today anyway. He’s currently passed out in the aforementioned uncomfortable hospital room bed chair. I have experience sleeping on those from spending nights on them looking after my father. I know how much they suck. And he’s used to being the doctor. Not the patient. Not the patient’s family or advocate. It’s a new role for him.

He’s also not much of a talker so I Have NO IDEA how he’s doing with all this. Somehow we’ll get through it. But it’s not going to be quick or easy. The only upside is I tend to not eat when I’m depressed so maybe that 5 pounds will come off easily.

And now, back to fake reality because I’m starting to cry and I just can’t go there right now. Maybe I can find some RuPaul’s Drag Race to watch or something….


8 Responses to “The Morning After”

  1. Oh no, what horrible news. I am so sorry. Everything was looking so great for you just a few days ago. I hope that the MRI gives you some answers.

    I am sure that Right Guy is just thankful that you are no longer in a life-threatening condition, and that you came out of the surgery okay. I know that you wanted to give him a beautiful ultrasound for his birthday, but I’m guessing that your health means the world to him.

  2. Leslie Says:

    Hi, I’m here from Al’s blog. I’m so sorry this is happening. I had an ectopic last year, and I well remember the emotional pain, confusion, and grief that accompanied it. Like you, I had a non-clear-cut case that took them weeks to diagnose and eventually treat. For me, they never figured out exactly where it was, so I wonder if I had the same situation as you. Anyways, I just wanted to offer you my support as an ectopic survivor. You can email me at Sending you enormous hugs!

  3. I am so sad to read this news. I can’t believe it’s turned into an ectopic (or what ever it is, since they can’t even explain it). You seem to be holding it together rather well, but don’t deny yourself your true feelings. Ectopics are a horrible way to end things (I have my horror story). I hope they find the cause of this issue and fix it for you to do a FET when you’re ready. I’m here for you when ever you need me. HUGS.

  4. barrenlazza Says:

    Hi Foxy
    I am so so sorry to hear this news. You poor poor thing. Why is it that some people just have a shit time sometimes? This seems very unfair. I really hope you get some time on your own so you can begin to digest some of this in private.
    Thinking of you

  5. Alex Says:

    Here from Al’s blog. This is so bizarre – I’m so very sorry for your loss. I’m glad they’re taking good care of you – very scary. I hope those shots work well, so you can save that uterus of yours. Hugs to you!

  6. Oh, I am so, so sorry. I know I’m a day late on this and already know all of the details via Twitter, but it still breaks my heart to read this. You are SO unbelievably strong. I admire you for that. If I were closer to Raleigh I would come visit you. But since I’m still 3 hours away, please know I’m thinking about you. Huge, huge hugs to you. xo

  7. Rebecca Says:

    I’m so sorry this is happening to you, life is so tragically unfair at times. There are no good words to offer, just I’m terribly sad for you and know the pain of loss all too well. Please know you are not alone, sending love your way & hoping you feel the support of all of us in the blogosphere trying to carry you through this sad & difficult time.

  8. Suzy Says:

    Oh honey I am so sorry. What a hideous thing to go through. You will be in my thoughts…I hope you can find some trashy tv to take your mind off it all for a minute or two (it worked for me). I hate public displays too, I didn’t cry in front of any nurses when I lost my son.
    I hope you make a fast recovery and can go home and deal with all of this in your own space.
    Much love

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