1st Visit to the ER. 7-2-11

I had my high risk OB appt in the afternoon, and during the course of the 2+ hours I was there, my nausea meds wore off; then I was sick for the better part of the afternoon. At home, I needed to go to the bathroom. Bright red blood. Panic. Put my clothes back on. Told Winnie to be a good girl. Grabbed my purse. Jumped in the car. Raced to the ER--stop signs, stop signs. Computed the best entry to the ER and raced to the reception desk. "I'm pregnant and just had bright red blood!" Gave her my name, my DOB. The receptionist told me to be seated and wait to be called. To frantically race and to wait. They will call me quickly. That was about 7pm. I was registered about 7:30pm. "How much longer?" "Well, there's 30 beds and 36 people. There are 5 people waiting." "Okay, thank you." At 8:00pm, they said 2 more people ahead of me. At 8:30pm, 'just one.'

Then, some guy with an ace bandage on his hand came in, sat down, and was called immediately back. That's when I lost it, what's going on?? Oh, he went to "Rapid Care." I blurted out, "Uh, I want this 'Rapid Care'. Why can't I be treated? I've been waiting 2 hrs!" The receptionist said that I could talk to the triage nurse. And of course I did ;) I said, "How much longer is it going to be? I've been waiting 2 hours!" "You're number 3." I was furious then. Don't they care if I'm having a miscarriage?? 

I walked back to my seat. The lady sitting across from me was trying to settle me down, saying something like nobody knows how bad some people feel, probably thinking I had some sort of GI or emotional problem since I had been teary-eyed on and off. Then, she went on to tell me that her husband had been on a 4 wheeler, hit a ditch, and got a gash on his leg and bruised vertebrae. She was trying. Finally, I said, "I'm pregnant and had heavy bleeding. I could be having a miscarriage." She seemed confused but sympathetic. That's probably more information than she wanted. 

I decided to text my friend, G, from work and see if she was still at the office. My mind didn't want to compute that it was after 8pm and unlikely even for G to be there. Although I spent many-a-night alone at the ER, I gladly accepted her offer to come. She arrived a little after 9pm. They took me back not long after. The resident came immediately to me as I was walking in. He wasn't salivating that I could see, but you could tell that he thrived on these sorts of cases. Not long afterwards, he did a pelvic exam <miserable> and then the transvaginal ultrasound. He had the ultrasound monitor turned toward him. Quickly, he did a brief scan. I heard a few swishes of the Doppler. He turned the screen towards me. And there was Boop. The heart was racing. And there were these little arms and legs flailing everywhere.  Boop was still there. Still alive and KICKING. Wow, look at those legs and feet flying around. The heart rate was zipping along at 170+ bpm. And that strange little face, like a little alien creature, typical 11 week old.

The attending MD, who I knew from a class she taught, came in to tell me everything looked good. She joked that the fetus was doing the macharena. I kind of laughed to myself. Nope not dancing. Boop was MAD. Boop looked like s/he was having a little temper tantrum. I was seeing a bit more of a little personality. And that all comes from my Dad's side. A little spitfire. The attending said usually when they see fetuses at that age, they are typically sleeping and very sedate. Not Boop. Everything seemed clear. I had a urinary tract infection, and for who knows how long? Maybe most of the blood was from the UTI?