My Bloody Valentine

Another mundane Monday, I thought sitting on post for my concierge style security job. Sunday was Valentine’s Day though it felt like any other. The rain began to pour as tears rolled down my face. The state of my life was wearing on me. I was frustrated and stressed to the brink. Even my plans of making love were ruined by nature. Nature that by this point was giving me a lot more than I could handle. By 7:30 the light cramps I was experiencing had beefed up to a strong ten. Assuming fresh air would remedy things I heated my coffee, went out front to have ease my mind with a a cigarette. In an instant I began soaking through pads and even my clothes. It wasn’t close enough to break time to just walk away so I filled my underwear with tissue and paper towels because by 8:30 I had soaked through all of the sanitary napkins packed for an eight hour shift. Half an hour later clots began coming out of me. In a panic I ran to the CVS and purchased super overnight maxi pads and several wipes to clean up the blood. As I walked more and more pieces came out, each one larger than the previous. None of what was taking place made any sense. I was bleeding as if were raped or sexually assaulted, neither of which were true. The rain seemed to be pouring even harder by this point. It was 10:00 pm. I called everyone from my mother to my husband, even my 18 year old. Each time I stood blood poured from my body as if I were cut. Pain shot through my body with every piece that came out. Spasm for spasm. Only I knew they were contractions by this point. My relief came at 11 and without a word me and my rainbow paneled Raincoat were out of the door. In the truck with my husband without so much as a hello, Take me to the Emergency room! I spat. What! I shouted, certain he'd asked me again. Before I could reply I pressed down to brace for another release of a very large clot. Grimacing through the spams he said nothing. With a hard turn he headed for Greater SE Hospital. Upon arrival I sat for almost an hour before being approached by registration. When they came to me it was only to inform me that the system was down and to sit tight until they can check patients in. This was only more upsetting because time was being wasted. After an hour and a half I threw in the towel and decided that Greater SE was not the way. Begrudgingly we gathered my things and drove to GW Hospital.

It was almost 3 in the morning when I walked into the emergency room. The security guard who barely looked up to make eye contact as he spoke, did his usual spill. "Have a seat and someone will call you up to the desk to get you all checked in". minutes passed before he noticed I was merely standing near a seat. “Ma’am you can have a seat. With a deep breath I opened my jacket to reveal blood all over the oversized hoodie I wore underneath the raincoat. Blood was also down my pants legs and on my beautifully ironic raincoat. In a hastened fashion he sprang to his feet and went to get a doctor from the back. I could tell that was the most blood he had seen on a seemingly calm person. Seconds later a male doctor came to the waiting area, looked at my garments and went back into the triage area. It wasn’t the best sign that male went to retrieve a female doctor. My assumption wasn't lack of Knowledge maybe he felt that she would be more empathetic, given the possible circumstances When she entered the room she had wet wipes towels , and incontinence pads. When she spoke her questions were sharp and to the point. She wasn’t cold or distant. You could tell that she was trying to figure out the why of it all. Why I may have been bleeding so much, considering I told the male doctor I was neither raped nor assaulted or cut in any way. Her look of puzzlement only grew when I told her I had not missed a period or been diagnosed as being with child. Then I remembered that I took a picture of one the larger clots while at work. Her demeanor softened a bit when I showed her pictures I'd taken of a few larger pieces I expelled. There was along moment of silence before she left to prepare a bed. then appeared to take me in the back within minutes it seemed. When I got inside the room, room 6 to be exact. It was a corner room near the nurse’s station. There was a team of at least 4 to 5 nurses and two female doctors one of which was a gynecologist. Immediately they asked me to dress down and handed me several means of which to clean myself up. The nurse began asking questions and connecting an IV to at least get a saline line going. She also asked my blood type to prep a blood transfusion if needed. once I told her that I had been soaking through overnight maxi pads every hour and I was up to 12 clots by that point after a moment of thought she decided taking a look would be a better first step approach considering it was currently getting worst. The gynecologist explained that she needed to be sure I was cut or hadn’t torn vaginally causing such a bleed out. Seconds in she located the problem . There was something lodged in my cervix causing the blood to almost pour out. When she pulled it out she tried to do so in a manner in which I would not see. It was a long, thick bent piece that somewhat resembled a small limb. A tear ran down my face. I could not bear what my eyes were seeing. Blood tests were taken to see if there was a pregnancy. They ordered a pelvic sonogram to see if there was presence or signs of a pregnancy. The tech was quiet most of the time as she moved the wand around. Adding lubrication periodically, clicking keys, asking me to inhale and hold breaths as needed. Then before leaving she said “You know it’s nothing you did right? These things just happen.” Her words said it all. She wasn’t a doctor so she could not tell me directly but as a woman it was in her heart to say something, because she could see and feel the pain in me.

5:45 I was back inside a room that was covered in enough blood one would have assumed I’d been shot. Nurse after nurse came in speaking words of encouragement. One nurse just repeatedly told me how brave she thought I was. This did not help much but was appreciated in a way they could never imagine. For a moment we were a band of sisters going through a pretty horrific thing together, but this only lasted shortly. An hour or so had passed and some of the bleeding subsided. The contractions were tapering off and most of the staff were off helping other patients. It was 7:06 when a woman I hadn’t seen all night entered the room, identified herself as my doctor while staring solely at the charts said. “Okay! Looks like all you had was a little heavy bleeding. We’re going to send you one and you should be able to go back to work tomorrow” Frozen from lack of comprehension I repeated “A little heavy flow! That can’t be right! Have you seen the sheets they pulled? Do you see my sheets now? This is actually me bleeding less! The gynecologist pulled what looked like a small leg from my cervix! I began to melt down asking what was going on. Another new face at the nurse’s station told me that my main nurse went to help a patient and the doctor I’d seen throughout the night left at the end of her shift, at 7:00. I asked that she leave the room as my body shook violently. She continued to talk over me, telling me that I was acting as if I wanted to miscarry. My reaction to her harsh words caused her to bulldoze me verbally simply to back pedal her unprofessional analysis of my emotional state. Frantic I pleaded that someone come remove her from the room or at least away from me. I had to repeat this incessantly until she turned and left the room.

Feeling as though I had stepped inside the twilight Zone I pulled the IV from my arm. This made the soft spoken nurse that informed me about the other nurse run in to help. My arm needed a bandage so she had me fold my arm where they had placed it. I pleaded that the nurse retrieve my discharge papers before the doctors return. So that I could simply leave. With no medication for pain, no antibiotics, no confirmation, procedure, council or anything. My body was tired. I was dehydrated from loss of blood and the doctor’s behavior and prognosis had me baffled and appalled. As I was leaving the ER the mystery doctor was running in my direction saying that I needed to see the Gynecologist before leaving. I turned and threw her words right back at her. “Why? It’s just a little heavy flow” Nostrils flared with fury, grief and disgust, I threw on my "bloody with optimism" coat, tilted my chin up and walked out of there with my head held high.

A few days later I received a phone call from the Doctor that held my hand through it from triage to recovery. She wanted to know how things went when she left, if they ran more test, and if the pregnancy test they gave me before being discharged was a positive result as well. Her words echoed in my head as there was a long silence. This made her continue to speak under the assumption that I was completely in the know. “This sort of this happens, a positive result could show until you have completely passed all pieces. This could happen over the next 24 hours or 2 weeks considering you were around 18 weeks gestational” 18 weeks I said aloud. Yes! Now I know that it has been snowing but would you be able to come into the hospital to do another test. I cut her off to tell her that very small one came out the following Monday but my flow stopped after that. She took a long deep breath and explained how that was a good sign of its completion. I explained my being a bit farther from the hospital and she asked that I do an over counter test instead. This was fine but I wondered if she legitimately cared or was covering her own tail because the Doctor that discharged me treated me in the a pretty horrific manner during one of the worst things a woman could go through. Piece for piece broke me in a way I never imagined. Not knowing didn't make loosing it easier, instead I felt nothing except pain I couldn't remedy and an emptiness I couldn't explain. Staring at a now negative pregnancy test I wondered where does one go from here? Air Pods in, Linkin Park blasting in my ear I decided to deal with this. This was one thing that I could not allow time to repair. I had to actually dig deep and in the words of Chester Bennington "Bleed it out, take it deeper just to throw it away"