We broke our vows of abstinence last night. I'm not entirely sure it was worth it. About a half hour aferwards, I was in excruciating pain. It was 1.00 AM, so calling my doctor was kinda out of the question. When it got bad enough that I couldn't move (except to throw up), I decided that maybe I needed to be checked out in case we'd screwed something up. This warranted a trip to the ER because last week, Doc Paranoia gave me a list of symptoms to look out for that could signal a problem that needed immediate attention. They included severe abdominal/pelvic pain (yep), nausea/vomiting (yep), excessive thirst (yep), swelling of my extremities (only a little, but worth mentioning).
So I quashed the little voice that was reminding me to never-ever go to my local ER, and we headed out. When they asked why I was there, I managed to explain where I hurt, and how bad it hurt, and briefly outlined my discussion with Doc P from last week on why I wanted them to rule out OHSS, and explained that (per his orders), I needed someone from OB/gyn and no pelvic exams. I also had to explain (the first of probably six times) that this had started soon after we'd done the deed. A bit embarassing, but hey - I've been a fertility patient long enough that discussing my sex life isn't a new thing. They took my vitals, and sent me to the waiting room. Where I tried to sit. For an hour.
When they finally called me back, I went through my whole spiel again, and when I got to the part about ruling out OHSS just in case, the nurse had the audacity to ask me what WebMD had to say about that - hello? I am not self-diagnosing. I am going by the advice of my doctor, who has far more experience with reproductive issues than the snippy little twit who was asking me the same questions I'd already answered (the same twit who only minutes earlier had misread my chart and asked me why I came in at 2AM when I'd been in pain for a month.. I had to point out that it had only been an hour) ... but I digress... I explained that I was there because of a conversation I'd had with my (fully competent) doctor, that since I have polycystic ovaries, and one of them is significantly overstimm'ed, OHSS is not exactly out of the realm of possibility. But apparently, I'm the twit no one wants to listen to.
Before she left, she asked if there was anything I needed. I asked for water. "Oh, you can't have that, but I'll ask about some ice chips". Great. No one told me this party was bring-your-own. And then we waited. A while later, another nurse came in (acting way too perky for nearly 4AM), repeated the whole spiel, rechecked my vitals, offered to start an IV (no way, no how - I'm a needlephobe, and not getting poked "just in case" I need it, without ever having seen a doctor). On her way out the door she asked if there was anything I needed. I repeated my request for water, and she repeated that I wasn't allowed, and told my husband to come get them if I needed anything - why? so they can tell me no a third time?
The doctor finally came in. He was not an ob, a gyn, or anyone with a specialty that I'd asked for. He asked my husband to leave the room so we could talk - and then proceeded to go down the list of the same questions everyone else was ok with asking in front of my husband. He then tells me he's going to need to do a pelvic exam. At this point I'm too tired and in too much pain to protest, so I just ask him to be really careful because I'm still in pain and I don't want anything to get broken. "Broken?" he asks, looking at me like I've just produced the most ignorant statement ever. Yeah, broken. I don't know what exactly Doc P was worrying about, but he did say he didn't want someone untrained doing too much to me out of fear they'd break something. Which is why I'd asked for a gyn consult the minute I walked in that door. But whatever.
As a concession, he decides I need a painkiller in case the exam is painful. For the love of God, just laying there is painful, of course it's going to hurt when he's poking me.
Another 45 minutes later, my vicodin has kicked in, my hubby is snoozing in the corner of my room and doc butthead returns. He checks a few things, and starts pressing spots on my belly, where I have to remind him - again - that I'm swollen from my clomid so could he please press lighter. He's pretty confident I didn't have a cyst burst ("at least not a big one"), or ovarian torsion, and I need to follow up with my doctor. No blood work, no ultrasound, nothing except a manual exam by a doc who's not specialized in gynecology.
So yeah, I'm calling Doc P to see if he can get me in a bit sooner than the "7 to 10 days" on my ER paperwork. I'm just not feeling like Doc Butthead really took me seriously. Maybe it's the fact that he didn't actually test anything. Maybe it's the fact that he kinda glazed over when I asked questions, and just wrote out a script for vicodin and abstinence. Or maybe it's just that I want someone who will know what to look for, and what to look at without me prompting.
I hate being treated like I'm ignorant of my own body.
No comments:
Post a Comment