August 30, 0730. After exactly a week of having a roommate who had a tendency to sleep with her TV on, I managed to procure earplugs. The addition of this wonderful foam invention plus my "Closed For Business" blue satin bitch (eye) mask, lead to a coma-like state. So much so that I didn't get up for my regular 0300 trod to the bathroom. In addition to being the best sleep for some time, today was the much anticipated return of my regular OB. I woke up when he tapped me on the arm. We talked for a grand total of a minute. He said he was happy to see that i was still there and we'll continue status quo, with the goal of hitting 36 weeks. No dates were scheduled for the c section. He left and my roommate made a B line for the bathroom. I realized while the doctor was chatting with me, just how bad I needed to use the washroom. Now I had to wait a little longer. I shifted uncomfortably in my bed and felt something that no one ever wants to experience when they are sitting in Antepartum. Especially with all the talk of how bad my condition could potentially be.
I felt a gush. At first I thought I had pissed myself. I may have used an expletive, that I am known to blurt on occasion, at the thought. A second thought occurred to me: I had to make sure I wasn't doing the one thing that they continuously and consistently asked about every time they came in to see me: Any bleeding? So I reached down to check. I drew a deep breath and looked at my hand. There was blood. A lot of blood. I pressed the nurse button. The disembodied voice asked if she could help me. "I'm bleeding," I said. "Say that again," she replied. Moderately miffed that I should have to repeat what I said, I answered "I AM BLEEDING".
All of a sudden there was a flurry of activity. I heard footsteps, but they weren't walking with purpose. They were running. Three nurses appeared in my room. One hooked me up to the fetal monitor. Another one broke a world record for spiking an IV bag and starting a line and then helping me change clothes. The third was the runner for things like a gown and other accoutrement to deal with the growing, yet emergent, mess that was being made in my bed. The fetal monitor showed that the Ninja's heart rate was normal. There was no sign of distress. I sent a text to Wade stating that I was bleeding. He asked from where. I smacked my forehead. I told him to get his ass over there. He finished walking Ringo and started heading in my direction. All of this happened in less than 5 minutes.
A wheel chair materialized and I was on the move. I was whisked (this is a speed somewhere between a walk with purpose and a moderate jog) to the special elevator. We were headed for Labour and Delivery. The first 2 nurses I saw up there were, one of my favourites and the one who I blogged about earlier. They were milling about at the nurses station since all of this action was going down right at shift change. Neither of them ended up being my nurse. I was put into L&D Triage. I was super excited because I was finally in a private room.
To be continued...
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