The Drug Guy

A few weeks ago, on the first day of school to be exact, we discovered that number two was on it's way.  We were happy...but, from the beginning it just didn't seem quite right to me.  I wasn't sick enough, I wasn't tired enough, and it just didn't feel like I was going to have another baby.  Even when I started looking fatter, and getting sicker, I was still feeling a bit uneasy about the whole thing.  Turns out, that unfortunately, I was right.  Our first ultrasound was earlier this week, and there was no heartbeat.  The fetus stopped developing three weeks earlier.  We weren't crushed, or overly distraught.  A little disappointed, sure, but then we look out our little Vivian and it's hard to not feel like we're already very blessed.  Neither of us believe that she'll be our last.  I think the doctor was a little surprised by our rather unemotional response to the news, but I did cry the next night when I was still throwing up from morning sickness while my husband was trying to finish homework, watch the baby, and make dinner.  It seemed like such a ripoff to still be sick for no reason.  The upside is that it made me look forward to the D and C surgery to remove the undeveloped fetus the next day since the doctor had reassured me that would put a final end to the morning sickness.

The next day I found myself chilling in a hospital room with an IV waiting for my doctor to arrive.  Vivian was with my mother-in-law, and Justin was at school (he had a presentation for one of his classes that was worth a massive percentage of his grade, so we felt it best that he just show up when he was done), so it was just the nurse and I when the anesthesiologist made his appearance.  He sat down and without looking at me asked in a surprisingly chipper tone of voice if we were doing this procedure for a pregnancy.  I saw the nurse out of the corner of my eye freeze, and the anesthesiologist glanced her way and immediately sobered his tone and made some mumbling apology about not meaning to be insensitive.  I just wanted to know why else you would have this procedure done.  The doctor seemed relieved to see that I wasn't disturbed by his initial abruptness.  He continued down a little check list of questions like "have you ever had general anesthesia before?" and "Did you have any problems with that?" Then he queried in a very casual tone "are you okay getting a blood transfusion?"  I blame it on the delivery, and the way that it was worded, but for some reason I was left with the distinct impression that this wasn't a "if you need one are you okay with it?" but, more a "you're getting one, is that a problem?"  I could feel my eyes getting huge, and I was thinking to myself "why the heck did nobody mention this sooner," but instead I heard myself saying "well, I guess.  I would rather not die."  He reassured me that it's rarely necessary, and moved on to tell me that I would have a breathing tube shoved down my throat and I might wake up with a sore throat, fat lip, and chipped teeth.  Again, I felt my face assuming a look of horror, and when he looked up at me, he first laughed at me, and then told me that a sore throat was almost a given, the fat lip had happened to him on occasion, but that he has never chipped a tooth.

I have a feeling that this guy in general does better with the patients when they're passed out.  The whole way into the operating room he was telling me how he was hoping this procedure would go quickly since he was planning on going camping with his boys after work.  I'm glad he was just in charge of the drugs.  All the same, things went well, thankfully the morning sickness is all but gone, and we're getting back to normal.  When you read this don't feel bad for us.  We are happy, we are together, and we are very, very blessed, and super grateful for TriCare.