Note: This post contains graphic material, because it isn’t possible to discuss the events that lead to our trip to the ER or what occurred in the ER without it.
Sunday morning I woke up with the cramps that have been a part of my daily existence since March 21st when I had the D&C. I have been very fortunate as a woman to have had very light and short monthly periods during my life. My normal period lasts 4 days. Day 1 is usually the only day I have cramps and days 3 & 4 are normally just light spotting. Most of my girlfriends would say this is unfair. Well ladies, we all know pay back is a bitch.
Sunday was day 11 of heavy bleeding and cramping, something which I found both mentally and physically challenging as I have never had to deal with anything like it before. I was having a hard time getting out of bed to face another day of it. Luckily Doc was home and after some cuddles he managed to entice me out of bed by making cinnamon rolls… he really is a good man. It wasn’t a horrible start to the day. By 2:30 things took a turn for the worse.
I began having intense cramping that would last only a few minutes and then resolve followed by another session of cramping anywhere from 5 – 15 minutes later. When the cramps were happening it felt like I was going to loose control of my bladder and bowels, they were so intense that I couldn’t feel anything else. The pain would spike to about a 7 on the 0-10 pain scale. A broken arm with no pain meds for 12 hours is my 8, so this is some pretty intense pain even if it doesn’t last longer than a couple of minutes. Shortly after these cramps began I started expelling large blood clots along with the continued bleeding. By large I mean that the smallest were about the size of a large grape, the largest the size of my palm.
The rule my doctor had given me following surgery was that if I began to soak a large pad once an hour for a couple of hours I should call his office or go to the ER. Because I was 11 days out from surgery, I kind of felt silly calling to complain about pain and bleeding, but I called the office (which was closed) and spoke to the 24 hour nurses that the hospital has available to answer questions. At around 4:30 she paged the on call OB/GYN for my office. Then I began waiting for a call back. The call back never came and I didn’t want to go through the hassle of calling the call center again and waiting for another page, so I decided I would just wait for morning and call the office then.
By 6:30pm the cramps were coming more rapidly and the bleeding was getting even worse. Doc and I decided we were going to the ER. I got checked in quickly and we were in the waiting room less than 30 minutes before they took me back to a trauma bay. There is a hierarchy in ERs. The more serious the event, the more quickly they come to get you. I thought I would be waiting for an hour or more… so when they came to get me ahead of all the other people waiting, I became nervous. Then when they stuck me in a large trauma bay rather than one of the small treatment rooms, I wanted to leave. If Doc hadn’t been home I never would have even gone to the ER. I really hate ERs. When possible I would always rather see my regular docs, who are all fantastic. ER docs can be a bit rough and jaded. Not exactly the comforting presence I have become used to by my physicians.
They took blood and got an IV started quickly. We had several people come in and do a quick history on me, and of course they had me undress and gown up. I was allowed to keep my underwear and pad on until they were examining me. However, as I was sitting there giving my history for the 3rd time, I realized I had actually soaked my pad and was bleeding through on to the bed. Things started moving a little faster at this point. The doc called for an OB consult, so more waiting on a call back. They started IV fluids, took a urine sample, and let me clean up in the bathroom. The poor ER doc was obviously uncomfortable treating me, and had to wait for several calls from the OB to get guidance on what to do. By 9:00 he was doing a pelvic. As I said before, ER docs are not gentle. At this point I was still living a drug-free life and the contractions (yep, that is what they were) had been getting worse, not to mention the soreness from the surgery and constant bleeding. The pain of the speculum alone made me gasp. Then I was crying. It takes a tremendous amount of pain for me to cry. Normally when I cry it is because I am emotionally exhausted or frustrated by a situation. These were entirely tears of pain. The doctor removed 2 large clots from my cervix. He said they were putting pressure on my cervix and holding it open. His hope was that by removing them it would allow things to pass more easily and stop the contractions. He also coughed up the narcotics at this point. I have never been so happy to have drugs in my life! I had 4 more contractions, which were much more manageable with drugs on board, and passed one palm sized clot before everything seemed to start getting better. From that point on it felt like we were just waiting to be discharged. Doc had to be up for work at 5 in the morning, so I really wanted him to get some sleep.
They had several large traumas come in, so we were stuck waiting. I finally convinced a nurse to remove my IV while we waited. We had to wait until the doctor had a minute to write my discharge summary and then we would be free to go. At midnight the doctor comes in and tells us that the OB doesn’t want me going home without a sonogram. They have to call in the tech, so we have no idea how much longer we are going to be there. At around 1am I sent Doc home to let the dogs out and to get ready for work. I had to promise him repeatedly that I would be okay and shove him out the door. He really didn’t want to leave me. I told him I would be okay for the sonogram without him and it would save him time when we finally get discharged. He said he didn’t think they were going to discharge me. He was pretty sure they were going to be admitting me.
The sonogram tech arrived before Doc got back so I did the fun internal sonogram by myself. You know that the bleeding is bad when you watch them lay towels down on the floor before they let you sit on the bed and they hand you 3 towels to help clean yourself up afterward. So much fun! The sonogram went a lot better than the pelvic did. I am sure it helped that I had pain meds on board.
When I was wheeled back into trauma bay 1, Doc was waiting. He was all dressed and ready for work. In true hero fashion he had brought me clean panties and several pads. At 2am the ER doctor explained his discussion with the OB. There is visible blood flow to some material in my uterus and they were unable to discount retained materials at this time. What does that mean? It means I am having more trouble passing the tissue than we thought I would. It also means that I may be facing another surgery, not really good news. It was obvious that the ER doc wanted to admit me, but the OB wanted me to see my regular doctor. The ER doc was willing to discharge me only if I promised to call my doctor when the office opened. I promised and we were discharged.
We were home by 2:30. Doc slept in his scrubs and had to work a 13 hour day with less than 3 hours of sleep. He is my hero for sitting by my side and helping me get through this, and for doing it without reservation or being grumpy. I would have been at least a little grumpy; he is a much better person than I am.
I called my doctor’s office at 8am. My doctor was at a conference Monday, in surgery Tuesday, so the earliest I can see him is Wed which is when I was supposed to see him anyway. His nurse told me that if I was comfortable waiting and the bleeding seemed better (which it is) then it would be okay to wait, however they could see me Monday or Tuesday if I felt I needed to come in. I am waiting it out. For most of yesterday the bleeding and cramping was a lot better. I had some contractions in the evening and increased bleeding, but that may have been because I got tired of sitting around doing nothing and then tried to do too much. Sitting around doing nothing is not fun. Watching my house get dirty is not fun. I am ready for my life to resume.
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