At 30-weeks pregnant, even I had to admit my health was disintegrating.
“How do you feel?” The nurse asked as she prepared to take my blood pressure.
“Terrible.” It was difficult to explain. I felt a massive pressure on my chest and it was so bad I slept propped on pillows to breath easier. Conversations were exhausting. Even watching a TV show was too much. I couldn’t focus enough to follow along. Anything physical, like walking from the couch to the bedroom, and I was sapped. A lengthy nap would follow.
The nurse placed the cuff on my arm, squeezed the bulb and released. She bit her lip as she watched the numbers.
“How bad?”
She hesitated. “Umm, not good.” On her way to the door, she paused and looked at my feet. They were so swollen I worried about getting stretch marks on my ankles. “The doctor will be in soon.”
Jimmy walked through the door next.
“Sorry, I got here as soon as I could.” He was still wearing his work uniform. “What did they say?”
“It’s not good.”
He sat down in the chair next to me and squeezed my hand. I slumped against him.
Dr. Oswald entered. He was reading a chart and talking. I wasn’t sure if it was to the nurse, himself or me until he looked up. “This isn’t good. No, no. I’m very worried.” He sat down on his stool. “You have elevated levels of protein. Your blood pressure is too high.” He flipped through the papers again. “What are we going to do?”
I wasn’t sure if question was rhetorical – so didn’t answer. When he finished reading his notes he took a long look at me. He didn’t like what he saw. “I think you need to go to the hospital. This is very dangerous. When it happens, it happens fast.” He was referring to pre-eclampsia.
I was almost too tired to talk, much less disagree.
“What insurance do you have?”
I couldn’t remember.
Jimmy said, “Blue Cross.”
The doctor rubbed his forehead and frowned. “OK, here’s the thing. You have to go to the hospital downtown. Your insurance doesn’t have a contract with St. Agnes.”
“Oh. I thought I’d be at the one in Clovis.”
He shook his head. “They won’t admit you unless you are at least 36 weeks. They don’t have a NICU either. St. Agnes does and I could treat you there – but I can’t at Fresno Community.”
That didn’t make sense. How could I be at the Fresno hospital if he couldn’t see me there? My confusion must have showed.
“Mia, call Dr. Howard’s office.” The nurse quickly left the room while he continued to talk. “He’s the specialist there.”
Panic fluttered like a baby bird in my chest. “You won’t be my doctor anymore?”
“If you make it to 36 weeks, you can transfer to Clovis and I can deliver the baby. Or you can check into St. Agnes and work with your insurance company later to cover the bill.”
It was too much to absorb. I was sick, exhausted and worried my daughter wouldn’t live to take her first breath. It never occurred to me I wouldn’t have my doctor. Regardless of how bad it got, I trusted him. If we were going to make it — he’d be the one to pull us through. … Maybe we should go to St. Agnes and fight the insurance company later.
The nurse opened the door and leaned in. “Dr. Howard is on vacation all week.”
“Who’s covering for him?”
“Dr. Terry.”
“Get him on the phone.” Dr. Oswald stood up and motioned for us to follow. We stood next to the nurse station and waited while she dialed the phone. The doctor asked, “What do you want to do?
Huh? What was there to do? “I don’t know.” I wasn’t really sure what he was asking about. Maybe it was about the hospitals. He talked some more but my brain completely spaced.
Next thing I knew, Jimmy was escorting me out of the office to our cars. I grabbed my keys out of my purse.
“What do you think you’re doing? You’re not driving. I already called mom — we’ll pick it up later.”
I paused. “What are we doing?”
“We’re going home and waiting for him to call us. He’s getting it set up for you to be admitted.”
“Oh.”
Jimmy opened the car door. I sat down and buckled up. I didn’t know how were going to manage with me in the hospital — but I knew we were in for a helluva a ride.
Related posts:
Genevieve Hinson is a social media coordinator for Children's Hospital Central California. She's also a writer, wife and mom to two boys and a girl. The opinions she expresses here are her own, as is her obsession for coffee.
When is part 3 and the rest of the story coming???
I am familiar with pre-eclampsia having gone through it 48 years ago last January. Except – mine was post-partum pre-eclampsia toxemia. I didn’t know it at the time but my doctor was practically right outside of my door. My son was almost 24 hours old when it happened and I was almost 39 years old and had no idea what was going on with me. My doctor called his wife and told her I was in a bad way and they put me on our church’s prayer chain. He wasn’t sure I was going to make it. I remember when it first happened in the late afternoon and I had this most horrendous top of the head ache and I told the Lord, “Lord, I have two babies to raise.” Our older son was 19 months old – he’s now 50 and my younger is now 48. So God took care of me and still does. I wish you God’s blessings on you and your family.
Your story brings back memories… I delivered my twins at 33 1/2 weeks due to severe pre-eclampsia. They turned 8 last month. I’m glad to hear (from your other post) that your daughter is doing well. Wishing you and your family the best!
I’m working on part 3 – so sorry it’s taking so long.