Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Daddy Please Don't Pack Me Away (I'll Be Real Good, Promise)!

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I'm Super Duper Happy!

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I'm 10 Months Old!

 

This month, I'm licensed to tear through Grandpa and Grandma's 1600 sqft apartment in 10 seconds flat. Everyone, eat my dust!

I currently weigh 8.85kg much to mummy's delight and my daily repetoire includes:
- climbing stairs
- strategising my cruising route from bedroom to balcony
- kissing Obie our pet dog
- waving bye bye to everyone
- 'talking' to everyone
- clapping my hands
- feeding mummy and daddy my biscuits
- putting my toys in mummy's shopping bags or the waste paper basket
- stacking my toys (includes ALL toys not just blocks)
- understanding most of what mummy and daddy are asking me to do (better don't speak ill of me)
- throwing my stuff bears down the bed (I have strong arms- aspiring baseball player?)

Mummy's getting my stuff all packed up for our Japan trip in December. She bought me plenty to keep warm in and it burnt a big hole in Daddy's pockets. Poor mummy, I hear Daddy blasting her ears off these couple of nights. Daddy, please be kind to mummy. She's just overly excited about MY first REAL trip (Jarkata didn't really count) ;) Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Ovarian Ectopic Pregnancy

I hesitate to enter this account into Sarah's Blog. However, I know that she will come to know of her demised little didi or mei mei eventually.

Funny how one will never really know of medical jargons until some medical tragedy befall them.

Last Friday the 27th of October 2006, started like how any other Friday does- we were looking forward to another weekend albeit G coming down with a fever. I busied myself with the usual taking care of Sarah and G (he was on MC). Around 6pm, I started getting really severe abdominal cramps, but thought nothing of it as I assumed that it was the usual pre-menstrual symptom. It got really unbearable and I laid in bed hoping that it will pass. Unfortunately, the pain intensified and I had no choice but to bother G to take me to a nearby clinic.

I did not really know how I managed to make it down 3 flights of stairs (I stay at a walk-up apartment) as I could not even stand without feeling like I was tearing apart in the middle, but somehow I did. At the GP's even after telling the doctor that the pains were coming from my uterus, he insisted that I was probably suffering from UTI or some other intestinal/ gastric problems. I was made to take some test to ascertain that. The test results came out clear and the doctor finally agreed to conduct a VE to see if there was anything wrong with my uterus. He concluded that I was indeed having some problems with my right ovary. Wanting to be certain, I asked to take a pregnancy test to rule out any pregnancy complication. The pregnancy test came out positive and I was advised to go to Thomsom Medical Centre immediately to consult my gynae and get an ultrasound done. I was given a jab to ease the cramps before I left the clinic, but it was rather pointless as the pain persisted.

G and I left the clinic for home as Sarah was with us then and we needed to send her home for dinner. We were both excited about the pregnancy news and yet also worried as I was in so much pain. We joked around in a bid to allay our unspoken fear as to the pregnancy.

Upon reaching TMC, we were both expecting the Gynae to be there already (the nurse was supposed to page for him). Instead, we were ushered into the A & E area and told that the Gynae won't be coming. The nurse asked us to see their in-house GP instead. I was like what the f***?! We just came from a GP for Christ's Sake! Weak from the pain, I did not kick up a fuss. I told myself that as long as someone can stop the pain, I didn't care who saw to me. G was quite upset as our GP had called the TMC nurse to refer us in and yet we were subjected to this.

A young, houseman-looking GP came in and started to prod my abdomen. He kept asking me if it hurts. I rolled my eyes and felt really upset that I have to go through the whole examination process again. After prodding around, the GP declared that he does not know what the matter could be and said that we should call for the Gynae. I almost screamed at him as I had expected that to start with. The nurse finally at this point, started paging for my Gynae. G and I were both super upset by then.

The Gynae finally arrived half an hour later. I was asked for my last known menstrual cycle and I told him that it was just the beginning of the month. He kept asking me if I was certain as if that was the case, the test kit showing that I was pregnant, could not have been too accurate. He suggested that I take a bloodtest to confirm the pregnancy as it would have been a more accurate test. He also conducted an ultrasound scan. My uterus and fallopian tubes were found to be clear (where's the baby?), but a further scan of my right ovary showed a cyst-like object right smack in the middle of it. The Gynae told me to stay overnight as I needed to be kept under observation while they run tests to find out what exactly is causing the pain. They had many theories as to what the cyst-like thing could be. One theory was that it could be an ectopic pregnancy but he cannot be certain as that would make it an extremely rare case (as oppose to tubal ectopic pregnancy). Upon hearing that the majority of the test will be conducted the next day, G suggested that we return home for the night and go back to the hospital the next day. I was nodding my head in agreement too. The gynae reluctantly agreed and gave me another jab to ease the cramps and told me to wait for an hour or so before leaving. We will also get to know the blood test results as to whether I was genuinely pregnant or not. The doctor left thereafter.

G ran to grab some munchies at Delifrance as we were both famished. Just as he stepped back into the room, I tried to sit up. That was when the cyst-like thing burst. The room swirled around me and I felt as if I was floating. I could hear G asking me if I was alright before he started to yell for the nurses when I did not respond. It was quite strange because I actually felt high. My eyes were rolling upwards and I could not really stay coherent. Someone asked me if I felt cold, but I was not really cold- it felt like I was covered head to toe in some sort of peppermint lotion. Much to my hubby's amusement (on hindsight), I shouted that I felt pepperminty.

The nurses and Blur GP started running into the room. I could feel them pricking my veins. I heard someone saying that my veins had collapsed so they could not hook me up to the drip. Another shouted that my blood pressure was slipping very fast. Someone else strapped an oxygen mask on me. But try as I might, I could not breathe the sweet air in. An intense pain had constricted my ribcage area by then, and I could only manage shallow gasps of air. Amidst the chaos and panic, I was wheeled into another room in preparation for the emergency surgery. Thankfully, one of the nurses had the experience to tell that I was haemorraging. She took over the helm of the entire room of medical staff (including blur GP) until my Gynae returned. I remember how this sweet angel (Sister Han) shouted at the blur GP when he poked at my veins futilely for the third time and took over the duty of inserting the needle for the drip for me. I felt a gamut of emotions throughout the whole process. I kept searching for G to tell him that I love him and that I needed for him to be strong. But I understand that the medical staff had sent him outside the room. Even though the pain of the injections and needles were really overwhelming, I could only panic at my inability to breathe. I thought I was going to die. I prayed and God was merciful.

It is ironic that despite the danger of the situation, the medical industry had to cover their backsides and make sure that the patient (in this case, me), declare them not responsible should anything untoward happen. They shoved at me some form to sign just before they wheel me into the operating theatre. The funny part was when my gynae told them that the surgery they made me sign for (laparoscopy) cannot be carried out because they had no time for that- they needed to do another type of surgery (laparotomy). You guess right, I was made to sign another form just before they operated on me. On hindsight, I really wonder what the nurses and doctors were thinking - would anyone NOT SIGN the form when they are faced with the prospect of dying? Basically, they could give me any forms ie. to sign away my organs etc, and I would have signed it. Interesting no?

Anyway, after the surgery and all, during their visits, the nurses and gynae kept stressing to me just how lucky I was to be alive. Apparently, I had lost alot of blood and had almost went into shock. If G and I had gone home without waiting for the blood results, I may not be here today. For that I am immensely thankful to the medical staff. Alive as I was, I couldn't help but wonder what exactly happened. The gynae had left us with hopes that our baby was still alive and that he will ascertain the cause of my bleeding and inform us duly.

Two days ago, our rose-tinted glasses were harshly taken away. The results of my post-operation blood test showed that I had lost our baby. The cyst was highly likely an Ovarian Ectopic Pregnancy. The chances of any woman getting it is 1 in 60000 or something. We couldn't have been 'luckier' in that sense. Striking ToTo would have been easier.

After much research on the internet, I am comforted that unlike Tubal Ectopic Pregnancy, Ovarian Ectopic Pregnancy tend to occur in fertile women and that my fertility should not be compromise because of it. I will definitely get my gynae to affirm that fact and hopefully get some answers next Monday. Stay Tuned.