hot messes, twisted cords and feeding tubes…

My friend, you are a complete mess? Really can a medical professional talk to you that way? (Maybe he said “hot mess”? No…, okay, I guess only “mess” is left, I’m a mess, what else is new…?) Not sure what you answer in this situation? “Eh…okaaay” He smiled (actually a nice smile, what a bully) “what I mean is the infection has spread in your body, it probably started in your uterus and then unfortunately spread… but the good news is that you are here and we are treating it and you are doing a lot better!” “So” (I had to ask) “is this a uterus infection or did the doctor leave placenta behind?” He looks momentarily taken back (is this not a usual question? Like what the H is wrong with me?) “Well” he says, someone will come and talk to you shortly” …? So not an answer, but again his smile is very nice, very straight teeth, and white, very white…so I try again “what does it mean that the infection has spread…?” He seems happier about this question even though he doesn’t really answer this either… “The medication is taking care of that and seems to be working well” (what…? Is he an intern?) “Very strong stuff” (the “lingo” doesn’t seem very “medical”) he adds while he swiftly, before I have a chance to stop him, backs out of my room. I want to yell “hey, come back here” but what for really…?

I decide to check in on my bebe by dialing the NICU on the huge grey phone attached to my bed (after dropping it twice, twisting it in with my IV, cords dangling) “We need more milk!” was their simple answer (but didn’t I just pump?) well, but of course, I’ll get right on that! The pure joy over the best invention ever (what? If you have ever been in my situation, you understand me) the “hands free pumping bra” has cold down some. Not as excited to get my huge (milk filled; not trying to sound any type of “sexy” here) boobs into this thing, as it twists the wrong way and the zipper gets stuck multiple times so I have to start all over, and the cones in the holes (again…not) and all the other pump accessories in the right places in the fastest possible time, only to wait forever and STILL not get the desired amount if milk.

After all the pumping I can manage in one sitting and after about twenty minutes waiting for someone to detach me from my IV (with the promise of being back in an hour for the next dose of super antibiotics) and throwing on some pants (I’m still fat and swollen and my big feet can barely fit in the skinny leg openings-be thankful though that I am wearing them, no more flashing my bottom to unfortunate people!) I feel lightheaded again and my throat hurts…and my ears. As I pass the nurses station to get my milk from their fridge, I stop to tell them that someone was supposed to come see me and explain my infection (two nurses give me clueless stares and blank expressions) so I “put the order in” for a doctor to come see me, emphasizing the sore throat, ears and headache.

Down in the NICU I proudly hand over my milk that they had requested but it turns out the nurses there are not as excited. Instead they seem concerned, not only is baby’s jaundice worse instead of better, she hasn’t been enjoying the outcome of all my hard work at the pump. Apparently little miss has not been eating quite as well as before-not well at all it seems, she has been losing weight instead of gaining and now they want to feed her through a feeding tube…
 

About jennym

A doctor of psychology and a mother of three writing about the struggles and joys and the ups and downs of motherhood, marriage, pregnancies, deliveries and her absolute love for her children in a humoristic yet down to earth weekly blog!

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