Adding insult to injury

Warning: this will not be a pretty post. You don’t have to read it, but I have to write it. I’m sorry.

I wish this could all just be over. If I can’t have it back, I at least wish it would hurry up and be done.

They’ve scheduled my D&C for 3 pm today. They forgot to call me, and only when I called the hospital at 8:30 last night did I get the details. I haven’t been allowed anything to eat or drink since midnight, and I’m starving already. Wouldn’t it have been nice if it were first thing in the morning or something? No such luck.

I have the kind of wicked bad cold I only get every couple of years. I’m terrified that they will take one look at me and send me home. After all, it’s not like it matters to the baby, right? I asked the person I spoke to last night about it, and she said since I haven’t had a fever or cough, I should be okay. Except I started coughing during the night. The anaethestic is gas, not intravenous, and I’m afraid the cold will somehow interfere with it.

I had to take some sort of medication last night to ‘make the D&C easier,’ in the words of my OB. I was supposed to take it at bedtime last night, but the person at the hospital clucked in alarm at the thought of me going from bedtime to 3 pm with the cramping and possible bleeding it would cause and instead told me to take it when I woke up this morning. So far, I’ve got no real cramps or anything, but I’m getting stiff for being afraid to move.

My mouth is so dry from mouth-breathing all night that I can’t stand it – and I can’t even drink water. Only six more hours to wait.

At least all of that is distracting me from the actual idea of what they are going to do this afternoon. I’m trying very, very hard not to think about that part. When I told the woman at the hospital I was 14 weeks along, she clucked again and revised my recovery time at the hospital from an hour to several hours. I think that’s when I started to cry.

I just want this to be done.

Author: DaniGirl

Canadian. storyteller, photographer, mom to 3. Professional dilettante.

34 thoughts on “Adding insult to injury”

  1. Oh Dani, how hard a struggle this must be. We’re right there with you, at your side, holding your hand. For as long as it takes.
    Feel free to vent in my direction, anytime…

  2. Oh honey. I can’t even begin to imagine what this is like for you.
    It’s hard when you just want the goodbye over with. Big hugs.

  3. Oh ((Dani))
    This part will be over soon enough. The whole thing won’t be over emotionally, but by the end of the day, the D&C part should be.
    I’m sorry they scheduled it so late – and that they stuck with the “Nothing after midnight” rule. My understanding is that most places have relaxed that and allow clear liquids up until several hours before – they clear an empty stomach *very* quickly. In other words, have a little bit of water to soothe that parched mouth. It won’t harm anything, really.
    Take warm socks. Hospitals are cold, and socks are somehow comforting.
    I will be thinking of you this afternoon. I’m so sorry.

  4. I’m so sorry. I just started reading your blog recently and I just wanted you to know there are more people out here for you than you could have any idea about. I hope things go as smooth as possible today…it’s just the beginning to a long road but you have all of us to help you get through it.

  5. OH hugs my dear dear friend. Nothing like this is ever easy and wanting it to be over with is understandable.
    We’re thinking of you and praying for you.

  6. All I can add to the above are my own warm thoughts,prayers and love. As others have said, we’ll all be here, holding your hand. ((hugs))

  7. Oh Dani, I wish there was something to say to make you feel better, but there isn’t. Just know that there are many, many people who are thinking about you at this most difficult of times.

  8. Dani,
    I wish there was someway I could make this all better…..
    Please know that I am thinking about you and shedding tears right along with you….

  9. I’m sorry, Dani. You are being so unbelievably strong. I hope the procedure goes well today and recovery is quick. I hope you have many loving loving arms to blubber inside.

  10. (((Dani)))
    I had a miscarriage at 13 weeks and I was told by the nurses it was absolutely my right to request a longer stay and I ended up in overnight. If you feel like you need the extra rest, please consider it. And take any medications they may offer, to help you sleep and rest.
    I am SO sad for you.

  11. My heart is aching for you, and not just figuratively; my chest is physically aching. I have only been reading your blog a short while but I want to give you a hug. I imagine the procedure is finished now, or nearly, and hopefully you can begin healing. Take care of yourself.

  12. The worst day of your life (I’m guessing) – but you have so much support from the outside that I hope you feel the hugs. I hope tomorrow is a teeny bit better than today.

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