****Warning: graphic details*****
Things can always get worse.
You may remember that I said, “Assuming she got it all, I will avoid infection and any further treatment” when talking about the quick procedure my doctor performed in her office to remove a small piece of remaining tissue from my miscarriage. Going on the results of my ultrasound on March 15th, which stated, “No evidence of normal gestational sac within the endometrium,” I declined to have a D&C and the results were presented to me as though one wouldn’t be necessary. After that visit, I went about my life. I was still moderately bleeding, but that’s normal and to be expected for about 7-10 days post. I had some cramping for a few days after the miscarriage on March 12th as well but then they subsided. I thought everything was over with.
Philip and I had not eaten out at a restaurant since March 2020 and spent very little time alone together since Quinn was born. Given the stress from these recent events, on March 20th we made plans to go to the mall, eat at Garfield’s (a place we used to love), and then go to Sam’s Club. Marsha and Kim (his Mimi and Kiki) kept Quinn for us. The ride up there was uneventful and we stopped at Garfield’s first. They told us it would be about 25 minutes for a table, they took my phone number, and said they would call when it was ready. To kill time, we walked around the mall a bit. We decided to visit the toy store and as I was browsing, I had the weirdest sensation I had ever felt in my life come over me. I stopped and looked at Philip and said, “Something is about to come out of my vagina.” I don’t even remember what he said other than something about he wondered what was going on from the look on my face. I told him I didn’t want to move but what else could I do but just that?! I took one more step and felt a sudden gush and something exit. Luckily, the 90’s are back in style and I happened to be wearing a jacket so I took it off and tied it around my waist as I made my way to the public restroom. What I found when I entered the stall was mind-blowing. A mass the size of a large chicken egg and about 2 cups of blood were in my underwear. I was wearing jeans so I had to take my pants off in order to remove my underwear that were now ruined and doing me no good. I cleaned up the best I could and saved the tissue, wrapping it toilet paper. I came out and told Philip I was pretty sure I had just passed the gestational sac and needed to go buy new underwear. We grabbed the first ones we saw in Belk and I made my way back to the public restroom. Prior to this, my bleeding had slowed down so I was only wearing a panty liner and didn’t have any extra pads with me. I had to buy one out of the machine in the bathroom. Charging $1 for a generic pad should be a crime. I’m thankful I even had change with which to buy it since I typically use my debit card for purchases. I once again had to get undressed and dressed in a stall. For the second time in my life, I had bled through my pants. The first time wasn’t nearly as dramatic but still embarrassing, in my sixth grade English class.
I felt fine, physically, afterwards. We came home and I wasn’t sure that I needed to keep the tissue and ultimately decided to throw it away after examining it and googling pictures of miscarried gestational sacs. I sent a message in my Chart detailing what had happened and what I thought it was. I, of course, was pretty pissed about this having been missed on the ultrasound so I asked if this is a normal thing for them to not see. The following Monday, March 22nd, my birthday, no less, I received a message back saying what I had passed was most likely a blood clot but they went ahead and scheduled another ultrasound for me on Friday March 26th. Being absolutely certain that it was not indeed a blood clot, I retrieved it from the trash and took a picture to send them. The nurse that I was corresponding with messaged back to say that my doctor had left for the day but the doctor who is taking over her practice reviewed it and said she *thinks* it is a blood clot but couldn’t be sure without physically assessing it. She also asked how big I thought it was. At this point I was beyond pissed that they were trying to sweep me under the rug but I was thankful for 2 things: 1) Saturday night is when I had put the trash bag containing the tissue outside and it got below freezing, thus freezing the tissue and preserving it. 2) Monday night is trash night so it hadn’t gone to the curb yet. I responded that it was approximately 7cm long and 4 cm wide and that I actually still had it. I’m going to assume that isn’t what they were expecting me to say. I don’t work in the medical field but my gut tells me that what should have happened next is for the doctor to immediately order pathology on the tissue. By Wednesday I hadn’t gotten a reply to my messages and I had talked to a few friends who work/worked in the medical field who also did not think it was blood clot and one said that the doctor should order pathology on it. Since she obviously wasn’t going to offer, I requested (through a my chart message so it would be in writing) that the doctor order pathology for it. The nurse responded saying my doctor was in the OR that morning but she would get a message to her and get back with me. The nurse called me that afternoon and ~*~suddenly~*~ the doctor wanted me to have an ultrasound ASAP. Weird, right? Maybe that’s because it was the first time she was seeing the picture, I can’t say for sure. She asked if Wetzel was able to get me in the next day, Thursday, would I be able to go? I told her I would. I also asked if I could take the tissue to Wetzel. She said she would ask and call me back. When I heard from her next though, she said Wetzel didn’t have any available appointments and that they could not process the tissue there and would have to send it out so I needed to bring it to Reynolds. She tried to get me to bring it that day but I told I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to make an hour and half round trip just to drop it off when I was going up Friday anyway. She told me to bring it to the office. To be honest, I was a little nervous about taking it to them and not the lab because I wasn’t entirely trusting that they were going to send it out but I took it anyway. Turns out, Reynolds also had to send it out and I could have gotten results faster by taking it to Wetzel instead of doing their bidding.
I took it to the office and then went for my ultrasound. When the same girl who did my last ultrasound called my name to take me back, I can’t imagine the look on my face. For those of you who don’t know me well, I wear every thought on my face; and I know I stared at her for a good 10 seconds deciding whether or not I was going to go. I did go and when we got in the room I told her I needed to ask her a question. I asked who was responsible for the results of my last ultrasound. She said that she just takes the pictures and the radiologist interprets them and has the final say. I told her why I asked and she assured me it wasn’t her fault. Ha. Alright, then. Whatever. She did do a thorough job the second time, I felt.
Anyway, the results of that ultrasound were read by a different radiologist, whether by her request or chance, I don’t know. It’s good thing, too, because I wouldn’t have accepted results from the same one. This one showed nothing related pregnancy.
The results of the pathology took a week to get back and during that wait my bleeding finally stopped. Ya know, because my miscarriage was ACTUALLY complete. The nurse called me the following Friday and said the results came back and that tissue was “products of conception,” which is just a term that means related to pregnancy. AKA, not a blood clot. AKA, I was right. Typically when test results come in, I get a notification. Of course, I had been waiting for this one and knew it hadn’t come, so I asked the nurse if the results would be in my chart. She said that I’m blocked from the results “for some reason” and that she would ask the doctor to unblock them. I told her to please do that as I would like to see them. On Monday, April 5th, I sent a message in my chart asking, again, for the results to my pathology. I still have not received a reply. When they hadn’t responded by Tuesday, I called the Release of Information Department and got the results myself. I asked the woman on the phone if it’s common to have results blocked from MyChart and she said, yes, sometimes doctors do that but she doesn’t know why because patients can always call that department and get them. She said she wishes they wouldn’t do that, just release them. I agreed as they’re MY medical records.
I wrote a very lengthy (as I do 😉) complaint letter to WVU Medicine on Tuesday when I received a $1500 bill for all of these phenomenally poor services. This was after charging my insurance and probably not the last one to come. I requested these fees be waved to allow me to have closure on this horrendous experience. I’m awaiting a reply. Should one not come, I will determine what my next steps will be.
I am so emotionally exhausted at this point that I’m numb about it all. I’m scheduled for a follow up visit next week with the doctor, who’s no doubt going to be upset when she hears about my complaint as I named every single person who I felt wronged me and why. I debated on going and asking for an explanation or maybe I wanted an apology but ultimately decided against it. I was having a lot of anxiety about whether or not I really need a final exam so I talked to my PCP today about. She advised me to get my last round of bloodwork next week to check my HCG level and should it be zero, I will not need exam or further treatment. If it is not zero, she’s going to help me find a new gynecologist to perform a D&C. I hope with every fiber of my being that it’s not necessary and this can all be behind me. Finally.
My PCP is Alisha Placer, the FNP at Sistersville Rural Health Clinic and I can’t say enough good things about her. She’s always super supportive anytime I’ve ever needed anything and she listened to me tell this ridiculously long saga over the phone today and apologized several times, even though she had nothing to do with it. She said she will do whatever I need her to do to help me through this and I know it’s true. I feel so much better after contacting her. If anyone needs a primary care physician, I highly recommend her!
I’ve had so many people let me know they care by checking up on me, offering me condolences, gift me alcohol (and other things but that’s really what matters, right? 😉), send me flowers, and just offer to help in any way they could. You don’t know how much those things matter. Truly. Thank you so much.
So many people commented on my last post about this that I was brave for telling me story but honestly, that’s how I cope. I’ve always been one who has to get it out. There was a time when I stopped doing that and it led to a dark place that took a while to figure out how to come out from. My friend Kim got me a necklace for my birthday that has a tree branch on it and the perfect saying, “Grow through what you go through.” I don’t mind sharing because, while I hope no one else ever experiences what I did, miscarriage is very common, yet there is little to no education on it. Honestly, before this, I kind of thought of it as one of those things that you know about but *it won’t happen to me.* I was having a conversation early in my pregnancy with my friend who is also pregnant but has experienced a loss, about the no visitor policy as Reynolds. I was mad about all the things I though unfair that Philip would have to miss out on. She was also upset about that for her husband but she mentioned an added fear that hadn’t even crossed my mind: getting bad news while being there alone. It didn’t happen that way for me but it easily could have and I didn’t even know enough to try to prepare myself for the possibility. Since sharing my story, I’ve learned about so many women who have experienced pregnancy loss that I never knew about. I just wish there was more education on the subject. I know pregnancy is supposed to be a joyous time but 10-20% (of known) pregnancies end in loss. That’s not a small number. Anyway, if anyone ever has any questions that I haven’t answered in my very detailed tale, I’d be happy to talk to you.
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