2 years ago
Monday, September 13, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Let's backtrack for a minute
Last Thursday, while I was still at the hospital. My sister was with me and so was my little man. I was in my hospital bed and my sister was feeding Hunter as it hurt to hold him for too long thanks to the drain I had coming out of me. I started to get cold (the thermostat was set to 65 after all) so I paged my nurse to ask for my pain meds and a blanket. I had 3 blankets on my bed prior to me going to get the drain put in that morning. When I came back, they had changed my bed and left me with only 1 blanket.
My whole first week I had 5 blankets in my room. I could never decide if I was hot or cold. And, from the time I was admitted Monday night till that moment, I had 3 blankets. So, nurse comes in, gives me my meds and takes my temperature for she fears that I had a fever. Sure enough, I had a fever - well, so she says, she never told me what it was, just said that it was elevated. And, because of that, she wasn't going to give me a blanket. I saw the look on my sister's face, she knew what was coming.
I freaked. I told her that I've had no less than 3 blankets my entire stay here and I come back from getting a procedure done and now I only have 1. She said she would not get it for me. I asked for a new nurse, someone that would give me one. She said, ok, if I give you one, can I still be your nurse? I said, if you give me one, then yes. She leaves. My sister and I talk at how ridiculous this is. The nurse comes back, with no blanket.
She says she spoke with another nurse and that they agreed with her to not give me one. Now, I really freaked. I said, so, you told me you would get me one, leave, and ask someone else instead? She asked if I was cold. I said, no, not at the moment because of how pissed I am. I can't trust you now because you said you'd do something then leave and don't go and do it and instead ask someone else. (My sister was ready to hand Hunter to me to get the keys and grab a blanket from the house - that would have been funny, having her bring in a big comforter from the house!) I demanded a new nurse and my blanket. She said she couldn't get me a new nurse, someone else had to. At that point, I asked her to leave.
So, 10 minutes later, mom has now joined the party. I was getting ready to explain what happened when this head nurse comes in with my current nurse. Head nurse decides to allow me this extra blanket, saying it's not normal procedure when a patient has a fever. I let her know that she may want to make sure all of the other nurses that I've had my entire stay are on that same page as it was never an issue before today. She tries to explain "the thought process" behind my current nurse and why she asked someone else about the blanket, thus losing my trust. After that, she expects me to keep this nurse. I told her that I understood that I only had about 3 hours left with the day nurse but that I didn't want to see my current nurse again and to get me a new nurse, otherwise I was ready to discharge myself.
So, Friday comes along. A social worker from the hospital comes to visit me to talk about PPD. She says she's going to read off symptoms/signs of PPD and that afterwards, she'll allow me to talk and let her know what I think of that. So, she reads this list of hers, then proceeds not to let me talk, but to recommend going on zoloft. At the time, I only had 2 things on her list, fear (hello, I was in the hospital for 5 days with at that point no real conclusion as to what was wrong with me, of course I was in fear) and anger (well, when you have a short temper and a standard had been set before then not held, of course you'll see some anger from me). She kept telling me that it's common after 3 weeks postpartum. I told her that we can't look at it yet then because my son wasn't 3 weeks old yet. She kept trying to insist this 3 weeks thing and I had to keep reminding her that he wasn't 3 weeks. Finally, I said that I didn't want to deny anything or try to say I didn't have it, but that with the hell I was going through at the hospital that week (my hand still hurts from the IV), that I wanted to wait until I got back home and this was behind me.
I tell Jason this and what happened. Our conclusion is that the nurse/head nurse had this lady come in to talk to me because of "anger". Yeah, that's why I have a tattoo of Donald Duck looking all angelic. I have a short fuse. Nearly anyone who knows me knows this.
Anyway, now that I'm feeling disconnected (though that seems to be the only real thing), I'm thinking about PPD again. I just don't want it! I don't want to think of that lady trying to insist that I had it last week when she thought my son was over 3 weeks old. It's like I want to prove her wrong. But, it is what it is I guess.
My whole first week I had 5 blankets in my room. I could never decide if I was hot or cold. And, from the time I was admitted Monday night till that moment, I had 3 blankets. So, nurse comes in, gives me my meds and takes my temperature for she fears that I had a fever. Sure enough, I had a fever - well, so she says, she never told me what it was, just said that it was elevated. And, because of that, she wasn't going to give me a blanket. I saw the look on my sister's face, she knew what was coming.
I freaked. I told her that I've had no less than 3 blankets my entire stay here and I come back from getting a procedure done and now I only have 1. She said she would not get it for me. I asked for a new nurse, someone that would give me one. She said, ok, if I give you one, can I still be your nurse? I said, if you give me one, then yes. She leaves. My sister and I talk at how ridiculous this is. The nurse comes back, with no blanket.
She says she spoke with another nurse and that they agreed with her to not give me one. Now, I really freaked. I said, so, you told me you would get me one, leave, and ask someone else instead? She asked if I was cold. I said, no, not at the moment because of how pissed I am. I can't trust you now because you said you'd do something then leave and don't go and do it and instead ask someone else. (My sister was ready to hand Hunter to me to get the keys and grab a blanket from the house - that would have been funny, having her bring in a big comforter from the house!) I demanded a new nurse and my blanket. She said she couldn't get me a new nurse, someone else had to. At that point, I asked her to leave.
So, 10 minutes later, mom has now joined the party. I was getting ready to explain what happened when this head nurse comes in with my current nurse. Head nurse decides to allow me this extra blanket, saying it's not normal procedure when a patient has a fever. I let her know that she may want to make sure all of the other nurses that I've had my entire stay are on that same page as it was never an issue before today. She tries to explain "the thought process" behind my current nurse and why she asked someone else about the blanket, thus losing my trust. After that, she expects me to keep this nurse. I told her that I understood that I only had about 3 hours left with the day nurse but that I didn't want to see my current nurse again and to get me a new nurse, otherwise I was ready to discharge myself.
So, Friday comes along. A social worker from the hospital comes to visit me to talk about PPD. She says she's going to read off symptoms/signs of PPD and that afterwards, she'll allow me to talk and let her know what I think of that. So, she reads this list of hers, then proceeds not to let me talk, but to recommend going on zoloft. At the time, I only had 2 things on her list, fear (hello, I was in the hospital for 5 days with at that point no real conclusion as to what was wrong with me, of course I was in fear) and anger (well, when you have a short temper and a standard had been set before then not held, of course you'll see some anger from me). She kept telling me that it's common after 3 weeks postpartum. I told her that we can't look at it yet then because my son wasn't 3 weeks old yet. She kept trying to insist this 3 weeks thing and I had to keep reminding her that he wasn't 3 weeks. Finally, I said that I didn't want to deny anything or try to say I didn't have it, but that with the hell I was going through at the hospital that week (my hand still hurts from the IV), that I wanted to wait until I got back home and this was behind me.
I tell Jason this and what happened. Our conclusion is that the nurse/head nurse had this lady come in to talk to me because of "anger". Yeah, that's why I have a tattoo of Donald Duck looking all angelic. I have a short fuse. Nearly anyone who knows me knows this.
Anyway, now that I'm feeling disconnected (though that seems to be the only real thing), I'm thinking about PPD again. I just don't want it! I don't want to think of that lady trying to insist that I had it last week when she thought my son was over 3 weeks old. It's like I want to prove her wrong. But, it is what it is I guess.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Disconnected
That's how I feel. Perhaps because of the extra week I spent in the hospital. I'm not sure. But, I feel disconnected to Hunter. Jason says that I look like I have a great time with Hunter when he sees me, but I don't always feel like it. Perhaps I need to do some research.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
3-5%
I am back in the hospital. I had a high fever starting Monday night. That sent me to the ER which ended with me being admitted to the hospital and taking a room back in the postpartum unit. Tuesday sent me to have a CT scan to check the internal incision for fluid. It came back showing there was fluid, however my doctor wasn't sold that it was fluid and not this stuff that she puts on the incision to prevent scar tissue. So, Wednesday had me getting an ultrasound on my legs to check for blood clots. That came back negative. After that, I met with someone from the Infectious Diseases group. We talked about my signs and 2 weeks since the surgery and decided to at least drain some of the fluid to see if it was the doctor's stuff or if it was pus or another liquid that would cause an infection and thus my fever. So, I went in for this procedure today. I now have a tube coming out of my stomach and into a plastic grenade looking thing draining both liquid and pus from me. Yuck. It's been a long 3+ days here in addition to the whole week I was here when Hunter was first born. I am ready to go home and get back to serving His Royal Highness. If the fluid level that is being drained drops off tomorrow morning, then it sounds like I should be able to go home tomorrow. Please let that be the case. I'm sick of being in the hospital. I believe I read that this happens to 3-5% of all c section patients. I guess there are worse things, but just get me out of here.
Monday, August 23, 2010
The Pregnancy Diet
Looking for a good way to lose weight? Don't mind waiting 9 months to see results? Don't mind gaining before loosing? Don't mind the possible stretch marks that may come? Join the new revolution! The Pregnancy Diet! Here's real client Katie:
I gained 25 pounds during my pregnancy and am now 2 weeks postpartum. After 1 week, I was up 10 pounds from my pre pregnancy weight. Now, at 2 weeks, I am down in total 30 pounds! I weigh 5 pounds less now than when I got pregnant! I'm so excited!
*Results not typical*
I gained 25 pounds during my pregnancy and am now 2 weeks postpartum. After 1 week, I was up 10 pounds from my pre pregnancy weight. Now, at 2 weeks, I am down in total 30 pounds! I weigh 5 pounds less now than when I got pregnant! I'm so excited!
*Results not typical*
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Ugh, recovery
I'm not a fan of the recovery period after this c section. I've had 3 nights in a row so far (most recently was last night) of cold flashes that send me shivering up the stairs to pile on the layers and crawl into bed while Jason brings me a cup of hot tea. My feet and legs have been more swollen than they were the entire pregnancy. My legs are sore as if I've been working out. It burns when I pee. I'll get these random cramps in my stomach even just 45 minutes after taking my prescription Motrin. I've been getting quite a few headaches recently too. Not to mention that I feel useless not able to do anything to help around the house and I'm stir crazy just staying in the house.
When does this end? When will this all start to go away?
When does this end? When will this all start to go away?
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Birth Story
So, we show up at the hospital at 6am. I get checked in and moved to L&D around 6:45. 7am comes and I'm in the bed getting ready for the IV to get some pitocin going. I was still in that 4-5 range and about 90% effaced. The nurse tried twice to get the IV needle in on the side of my wrist and both times were failures. And, can I say did that ever hurt?!!! Wow! Much worse than any of the contractions I ever felt (including that day). I guess I had some thick skin and she couldn't get to the vein itself. So, she had to get another nurse to try. This nurse went to the top of my hand and did it with no problem. A lot of blood came out though, once I actually looked over. I knew that it must have because she did ask for a towel. 7:15 the pitocin is going and 7:30 my doctor comes in to break my water. Once again she was surprised to see me, thinking that I would have gone before the scheduled induction. Apparently there are 2 layers to the bag of water. She broke through one with ease but the second took some work. I guess I really did have a bag of steel.
Just after 9am I felt the first painful contraction. I didn't want to feel any pain and even though I could tolerate it, I decided to ask for the epidural at that time because I knew by the time they got him to my room, prepared me, and put it in, it would be like 45 minutes before I could feel its effects. As he was administering it (which, wasn't bad at all), I was hunched over towards the nurse on one side of the bed and I was just pouring out water. We did know that I had a ton of water in me (probably a reason for all my stretch marks). By 10, I was in no pain at all.
About 10:15 they check me and I was a solid 5 but still a -2 station. And, he was flipped sunny-side up. So, they give me the peanut to use for 45 minutes a side. At 12:00 or so they check and I was between 5-6. Contractions were not regular at all. It was the pitocin doing all the work. I would have a series of 3 in a row with no rest then would break for 4 minutes and repeat. They kept changing the levels on the pitocin to see what worked best. Would it be 6? 4? 3? Who knows. So, at 12:00 they inserted the monitor to actually measure just how strong these contractions were and stopped the external monitor. At 2:45 I was checked again and was 6-7. My doctor was doing a delivery but was to be informed of my progress.
At 3:15 she came in. We discussed everything again and the fact that my body wasn't taking over doing the contractions on it's own, we decided it was best to do the c section. Shortly after saying those words my body went nuts. I started freezing and shaking uncontrollably. They had to load me up with 4 blankets (1 of which was warmed). I had to take that disgusting base stuff to counteract the acid in my stomach. I started crying unsure about the whole process and being scared by going into surgery.
Just before 4 I was moved in to the OR, dosed up on morphine and ready to go. Oh yeah, I'm still shaking uncontrollably. They move me from my bed to the OR bed and hold out my arms to strap them down then I think they strap down part of my head too, I'm not too sure. Jason comes in and they get to work. I couldn't feel anything besides for the occasional tugging and pulling. They tell me where they're at during the whole process, meanwhile my arms are still shaking and they give me yet another blanket for my upper body. Finally I hear that they've reached Hunter and are bringing him out and somethings along the lines of it being a good think we did the c section and how he have a future lineman on our hands or something. I hear him cry, and I no longer feel Jason holding my hand. He was off with our little man.
He was born at 4:12 on 8/9/10 weighing in at 9 pounds 2 ounces and 22.5 inches long. Though, I wasn't done yet. I wanted Jason to come back and show me pictures of him but it took him what seemed like ages to do. Soon after I started to feel nauseous. I told the anesthesiologist this, well, I actually said I feel "woozy" as he and his med student were the ones up at my head and I knew they would be the ones really concerned with that. Shortly after, Jason finally brings me pictures to look at. He leaves again and I knew I was going to be sick. I tell them again and a nurse comes over with a bowl for me. Finally the nurse holding Hunter comes wanting to know if I wanted to see him but I had to turn her away for how bad I felt. As soon as she left with him (along with Jason), I started dry heaving. I did this about 6 times before I finally got sick. Once that happened, I felt better, at least on the woozy front. I started shaking again from being cold (or I thought I was cold) as they continued the process to stitch me up.
I'm finally moved from the OR bed to a bed to transport me to the recovery room. I'm just trying to keep from shaking and trying to close my eyes in hopes of being able to sleep. My husband was not to be found when I got to the room. I got something called The Bear which is some sort of inflatable blanket pumping warm air onto me while I waited for the shaking to stop. Finally, Jason comes in and shows me more pictures of our little man. He tells me that he got to take each one of our family members back one by one to see Hunter though he would not let them hold him since I hadn't even seen him yet. I close my eyes and try to sleep while he steps out to call Baby's First Phone Call to leave our message announcing Hunter's arrival. A short time later I hear the wheels of a hospital crib being rolled into our recovery room and I finally got to see and hold him. A few tears ran down my cheeks as they gave him to me. The recovery has not been fun so far. Jason has to do most of the work, especially at night, as it is very hard for me to move or sit up and get out of bed. It frustrates me that I can't help him, especially when he's so tired and the first week of school is this week. But, we both know that it will be worth it in the end.
Just after 9am I felt the first painful contraction. I didn't want to feel any pain and even though I could tolerate it, I decided to ask for the epidural at that time because I knew by the time they got him to my room, prepared me, and put it in, it would be like 45 minutes before I could feel its effects. As he was administering it (which, wasn't bad at all), I was hunched over towards the nurse on one side of the bed and I was just pouring out water. We did know that I had a ton of water in me (probably a reason for all my stretch marks). By 10, I was in no pain at all.
About 10:15 they check me and I was a solid 5 but still a -2 station. And, he was flipped sunny-side up. So, they give me the peanut to use for 45 minutes a side. At 12:00 or so they check and I was between 5-6. Contractions were not regular at all. It was the pitocin doing all the work. I would have a series of 3 in a row with no rest then would break for 4 minutes and repeat. They kept changing the levels on the pitocin to see what worked best. Would it be 6? 4? 3? Who knows. So, at 12:00 they inserted the monitor to actually measure just how strong these contractions were and stopped the external monitor. At 2:45 I was checked again and was 6-7. My doctor was doing a delivery but was to be informed of my progress.
At 3:15 she came in. We discussed everything again and the fact that my body wasn't taking over doing the contractions on it's own, we decided it was best to do the c section. Shortly after saying those words my body went nuts. I started freezing and shaking uncontrollably. They had to load me up with 4 blankets (1 of which was warmed). I had to take that disgusting base stuff to counteract the acid in my stomach. I started crying unsure about the whole process and being scared by going into surgery.
Just before 4 I was moved in to the OR, dosed up on morphine and ready to go. Oh yeah, I'm still shaking uncontrollably. They move me from my bed to the OR bed and hold out my arms to strap them down then I think they strap down part of my head too, I'm not too sure. Jason comes in and they get to work. I couldn't feel anything besides for the occasional tugging and pulling. They tell me where they're at during the whole process, meanwhile my arms are still shaking and they give me yet another blanket for my upper body. Finally I hear that they've reached Hunter and are bringing him out and somethings along the lines of it being a good think we did the c section and how he have a future lineman on our hands or something. I hear him cry, and I no longer feel Jason holding my hand. He was off with our little man.
He was born at 4:12 on 8/9/10 weighing in at 9 pounds 2 ounces and 22.5 inches long. Though, I wasn't done yet. I wanted Jason to come back and show me pictures of him but it took him what seemed like ages to do. Soon after I started to feel nauseous. I told the anesthesiologist this, well, I actually said I feel "woozy" as he and his med student were the ones up at my head and I knew they would be the ones really concerned with that. Shortly after, Jason finally brings me pictures to look at. He leaves again and I knew I was going to be sick. I tell them again and a nurse comes over with a bowl for me. Finally the nurse holding Hunter comes wanting to know if I wanted to see him but I had to turn her away for how bad I felt. As soon as she left with him (along with Jason), I started dry heaving. I did this about 6 times before I finally got sick. Once that happened, I felt better, at least on the woozy front. I started shaking again from being cold (or I thought I was cold) as they continued the process to stitch me up.
I'm finally moved from the OR bed to a bed to transport me to the recovery room. I'm just trying to keep from shaking and trying to close my eyes in hopes of being able to sleep. My husband was not to be found when I got to the room. I got something called The Bear which is some sort of inflatable blanket pumping warm air onto me while I waited for the shaking to stop. Finally, Jason comes in and shows me more pictures of our little man. He tells me that he got to take each one of our family members back one by one to see Hunter though he would not let them hold him since I hadn't even seen him yet. I close my eyes and try to sleep while he steps out to call Baby's First Phone Call to leave our message announcing Hunter's arrival. A short time later I hear the wheels of a hospital crib being rolled into our recovery room and I finally got to see and hold him. A few tears ran down my cheeks as they gave him to me. The recovery has not been fun so far. Jason has to do most of the work, especially at night, as it is very hard for me to move or sit up and get out of bed. It frustrates me that I can't help him, especially when he's so tired and the first week of school is this week. But, we both know that it will be worth it in the end.
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