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Posts Tagged ‘high risk ob’

Last week had the potential to be a really shitty week. A really shitty Christmas week.

Julie’s 24hr urine test showed a “higher than the doctor expected” amount of protein (526mg) in her urine and after a few more higher than normal blood pressure readings at our respective doctor’s offices our High Risk OB group was a ginger’s pubic hair away from admitting Julie into the hospital with preeclampsia. She would stay in the hospital until our family increases from 3 to 5.

We’ve gone through tears and crying about the thought of her actually missing Christmas morning with our son.

We’ve run over the logistics of having a wife in the hospital 50 minutes away where our son isn’t welcome because of the bullshit swine flu. Also factoring in that he’s doing really really well in his new bed.

We’ve realized that there is nothing more painful than not being able to see your kid.

We understand the need for hospitalization,  but we also understand that 32 weeks isn’t our perfect scenario to meet our children for the first time.

We wanted to avoid it until it was absolutely necessary.

So we took some precautions with Dr. Losure’s help at High Risk OB at Delnor Hospital.

Julie has been taking her blood pressure readings at home with a recommended wrist cuff (we got it at walgreens for about 40 bucks). She has been given the list of symptoms of preeclampsia to watch out for and has taken it down from about a 5 on scale of 1-10, to about a 2.

Meaning I allow her to wipe her own ass and feed herself.

On Christmas Eve we met with our other doctor group and our doctor there was happy with the bp readings Julie has been having, as well as the lack of any significant protein in her urine using the chincy little dipsticks they use.

He understood the strain a Christmas in the hospital would put on Julie if it wasn’t completely needed, so he scheduled another 24hr urine collection/blood test, and tomorrow we will find out the results of those tests.

We’re hoping we can add a few more weeks to our little baby farm up in Julie’s magic vag of enlightenment.

We will find out tomorrow. Until then…

Last Thursday we had a pair of doctor appointments, one at the OB group and one at High Risk OB @ Delnor Hospital.

Because of our previous visit to the OB group and their complete lack of being prepared, having read Julie’s file, and not knowing their own practice’s practices – we were prepping for a battle of words and belly bumps. Unfortunately for Julie, all of that worrying got her blood pressure up over her normal range and the MA informing her of it increased it even more.

Throughout this entire pregnancy Julie’s blood pressure has been hovering right around 120/80. Every visit was within a few points of the previous visit’s and even though we’ve had a few scares, those have always occurred after the bp reading was taken.

So when Julie was told she was 140/92 or around there for three different readings, two on the exam table and one sitting up straight in a visitor’s chair, the doctor wanted us to keep an eye on it mainly because it had never been an issue before and since we’re high risk, having twins and it’s getting towards crunch time.

What are we keeping an eye on exactly? Two things. If we were looking up a mountain we would first see Hypertension and then Preeclampsia. Thankfully Julie is showing no signs of having either besides the one episode of the high blood pressure. She doesn’t have puffy hands of feet, or “the look” of having anything similar to preeclampsia, says the High Risk doctor, but to be on the safe side he ordered her to collect her urine for 24 hours and then when she drops of her lovely pee, she gets to have some blood drawn.

Julie’s mom, Patti, is an MA herself so over the weekend she took Julies blood pressure a few more times to be sure she wasn’t actually consistent at 140/90 or anything close to that. Every reading had Julie down to where she normally is, if not lower. But regardless of our own findings, we trusted that we should follow through on the pissfest.

So our pissfest started yesterday morning. They gave her a jug of about 3/4 gallon and a handy dandy collection funnel, which is just the most seasonal and festive piss cup/pouring device I’ve ever seen. AND I’VE SEEN ALOT OF PISS COLLECTORS IN MY DAY, OH BOY.

She was instructed to toss out her first morning wee and then collect from there on out until the first morning wee of the next day, which was this morning.

Of course, in our lives, nothing comes without humor.
Keeping the funnel/hat away from our inquisitive son wasn’t the funniest part.
Storing the piss jug next to the orange juice in the fridge wasn’t the funniest part.
Watching Julie retrieve her piss jug every few minutes and the look on her face as she walked past us towards the bathroom (or as the label I put on the door says: SPECIMEN COLLECTION) wasn’t the funniest part.

No, no, no: the funniest part of the whole piss collection story is that Julie ran out of room.

Yes, Julie has a huge orange piss jug full of piss and two tiny tupperware containers full of preggopiss.

Today when she picks me up for our doctor appointment and her blood test, I’m going to make the piss jugs sit shotgun while I sit in back plugging my nose.

I love my wife, but I love laughing at her too. Every time I fall on my ass on the ice, or hit my head on a cabinet or crib, or slip on her panties lying all over the place, she laughs until she cries – well I will carry on the humor of this piss-sperience until she hits me really really hard, or the babies are born. I’m just that kind of guy.

As you can probably tell, I am not worried in the slightest that there is any noticeable protein build up in her tinkle. I believe our doctors are just being as cautious as they should be in a situation such as ours. I have a serious case of the positive thinkings going on and it wouldn’t be beneficial to Julie or the twins if I was to be a worry-wart and hounding over her pee like a koi-pond enthusiast hovering over his koi-pond, if his koi-pond were in fact nearly a gallon of bright yellow piss, in a jug, in my fridge, right next to the oj, right above my assortment of yogurts, cheap cheeses and fruit du jour.

If I know my wife’s piss, and I think I do, that jug has approximately 8 hours left before the acids in her wee wee tinkles eat through that plastic like hydrochloric acid on a cheap pair of rubber gloves.

I better get home and fortify the piss jug.

toodles.

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Thursday, December 3rd, 2009 we did our normal routine of hitting up one Dr.’s office and then moving on to the next.

We first had a cervical scan at High Risk OB at Delnor Hospital with Rita and Dr. Kalchbrenner. Of course the staff was awesome and the scan proved encouraging, as Julie is now measuring at 44 and is, supposedly, sporting a cervix that even women carrying singletons would admire.
The people at HROB are dependable and you never leave feeling like they don’t have their shit together.

I wish I could say the same for Focus On Women’s new merger partner Fox Valley Women & Children’s Health Partners.

We were informed of the merger about a month ago and while at the time it seemed like something that wouldn’t necessarily impact our doctor/patient relationship too much, but now it seems like the common courtesy to “READ YOUR PATIENT’S FILE BEFORE THE APPOINTMENT” went out the window with their old business cards.

Some aspects of the merger seemed convenient, like an office about 25 minutes closer to our home, and, well, that was basically it. But the addition of a dozen new doctors into the fray makes us feel like we’re on a speeding car, sitting shotgun, and the driver keeps changing spots leaving us headed towards oncoming traffic too frequently.
It’s unsettling.

While getting Julie’s blood pressure taken and the heart rates of the bebes, the MA asked Julie when her C-Section was scheduled for.

Excuse me? What C-Section? Julie looked like she had been hit with a frying pan (not that I’ve ever attempted to hit her with a frying pan, she’d kick my ass).

The MA said it was just a routine question, but it was one we had never been asked because when we first met with Focus On Women it was determined that that would be a judgment call come time to deliver. If baby A (Leah the beautiful) was head down, we’d proceed with the vaginal birth. If not, we’d move towards a C-Section. But to hear it asked of us like we were unprepared for not having one scheduled was a bit unnerving. It seems this new practice we’ve been thrown to has a policy of ONLY performing C-Section births for multiples, no matter what. We wish we would have know there was no natural option with the new doctors.

About twenty minutes later the midwife came in and did her best to act like she had read Julie’s file, but it was clear that she had no idea what the hell was going on because all of her questions raised more and more questions from us.

We immediately ask about the C-Section issue and she goes on to tell us that the two groups have not agreed on a standard for the practice yet. “But what did Focus On Women tell you?” she asks. Julie starts talking and no sooner than a dozen words come out the midwife is interrupting her telling us where her practice stands.

Did you just ask my wife a question? Will you let her finish? We understand you are more important than us, but isn’t the purpose of this appointment to see how Julie is doing and progressing in the pregnancy not hearing your opinions on which practice’s stance is better in your non-doctor opinion? This woman seemed nice, but completely snobbish to us because we had come from the other practice.

“So you’re 29, about 30 weeks pregnant, and O negative, when did you have your Rhogam shot?” the midwife asks.

Again, what? You’re the doctor/person in charge of that. “We were told at our last visit that I would receive it or set it up at this visit.” Julie replies.

“Hmmm. We’re a bit past the cut off, but it should be alright.” The midwife spits back.

So let’s just clarify something here, our original doctor group’s doctor told us we were okay to do it at THIS visit, and you are now claiming we’ve “missed the boat” and should have had it earlier? Is this some sort of professional catfighting between original practitioners of one office who have been invaded by other practitioners and there is a bit of animosity between the two groups?

The little pauses and eyes darting back and forth and eyes rolling and audible sighs after we tell you what we’ve been told by our original doctor’s group and the constant INTERRUPTING is beginning to wear on my patience. I don’t give a flying fuck what your professional beef is, your job is to be a doctor, not a politician, knock this shit the fuck off.

The midwife added quickly, “But you have to have a antibody screen within four days of getting the rhogam shot, when was your last antibody screen?”
Don’t you have the computer in front of you? Isn’t what I think I’ve had a bit erroneous? I am a layman, I could tell you they tested my wife’s testicles for fucking asbestos! You have doctor-documented information at your fingertips and you’re asking my wife questions that we trust you to know the answer to in the first place!

The entire exchange between us and the midwife was confusing, as our original questions were kind of put to the side as she created more concerns rather than quell any.

A simple question that we both had was: who do we call when we’re on the way to the hospital in possible labor?

This completely stumped our fair midwife. She actually left the room to ask someone 30 grand below her pay grade to find out the “cheat code” to get out of the phone tree. Which is ANOTHER pain in the ass coming from a practice where HUMANS answered the phone! Now we get the pleasure of selecting one of NINE options when calling. Golly! The answer she came back was “Select the one that says make an appointment and that should get you to where you need to be, if not, labor & delivery at the hospital will call the doctor on call.”

Unreal. If your job was to make a family feel better about the impending birth of their children, you fucking failed lady.

So we left not knowing if we were going to be forced into a C-Section, not knowing exactly how to get a hold of the doctor on call if we’re on the way to the hospital on delivery day, not knowing if the rhogam shot is going to be given too late, and we left now knowing we don’t want to see these people any more.

To any doctors or midwives reading, read the file before you meet your pregnant patients. It’s respectful and necessary if you don’t want to backtrack and confuse the people you’re supposed to be inspiring confidence in.

Piss me off, that’s one thing.

Make my wife cry and I will fucking cut you.

Love,

Dad

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We had yet another appointment with High Risk OB at Delnor again Monday and while I was able to avoid the dreaded licorice flavored taffy, I wasn’t able to hide my disappointment at not being able to get a 3D shot of my youngest son’s face. But petty grievances aside, my kids are doing well.

During the scan they measured brain, head, legs and arms, as well as measuring fluid and height and weight. Compared to each other and their last measurements, Mason and Leah are slated to continue kicking mucho ass and are in the 60% percentile for their ages.

Wahoo!

Mason is 2lbs.  11oz.
Leah is 2lbs. 13oz.
Both are around 14inches long at the moment.

They have also completely changed positions. Leah is now head down along Julie’s left side and Mason is now head up along Julie’s right side. They playing “yin & yang” yo.

The weird thing now is that Julie can’t really tell who is moving when. With the exception of the “coasts” of her globe-belly, movements near her “poles” could be either the feet of one or the head of another.

I’m not really going to worry about who is doing what because all I’m really good for is staring at her belly and then pointing and saying aloud “Man, that’s frickin’ freaky shit.” Which I’ve done in public a few times. Averting people’s attention away from her belly and onto my cheeseball face is one of my coping mechanisms. I’m not trying to steal the attention per se, I’m just trying to lessen the staring directly into Julie’s magic ball of bebe.

We’re under 90 days until the twincinerator launches. And by launches, I mean slithers from wifey’s vajayjay.

Yay!

Regarding getting the 3D shot of lil dude 2.0, he was facing Julie’s spine so I was out of luck once again. No amount of shaking, prodding or tickling was going to get that little fetus flipped. I offered to stick my hands in there, but that seemed a bit much just for a photo op.

So Tuesday’s appointments were aight. Freal. They be straight up gangsta like the rest of em. Nothing out of the ordinary or particulary shocking. No prodding by doctors without asking my permission. Nobody offered me any taffy.

WAIT. YES THEY DID.

Rita at Safekeeping: High Risk OB at the lovely and spacious Delnor Community Hospital offered me a piece of taffy which was orange in color, yet tasted like black licorice. Had I known her longer or had she been looking at MY vagina all those times maybe I could’ve told her, but I HATE BLACK LICORICE. Rita is now on my “scowl upon seeing” list that now has 4 members. All three of those members are either on the Chicago Cubs or are part of the management of the Chicago Cubs. So Rita holds some pretty shady company.

BUT, yes, we had the 25 week growth scan and saw the twinsies rockin’ and rollin’ all ’round the ute. Everything is right where it should be and the kids are growing nicely.
Leah is an amazing 1lb 13oz.
Mason is a svelte 1lb 110z.

Mason can already be heard saying things like:

• “You sure you wanna’ eat that Leah? That might add on another ounce or three. Imjussayin.”
• “Don’t worry about it, it’s probably just water weight, or my liquid feces.”
• “You want me to eat half of that? No? Figures.”
• “Damn, I am getting RIPPED doin’ these spine pull ups! What are yo- Oh, eating?”
• “Leah I don’t think you’re fat. What? No, no one said anything, I just want you to know that I do not think that you are a fatty. Fatty.”
• “Hey, you go first out the chute over there so there’s plenty of room for me to drop out. K?”
• “Can a fetus get some frickin’ room? Huh? JEEZE MA NEEZE!”

As you can read, my son is already the picture of sarcasm, humor and what I refer to as “shit wit” – meaning, you give people shitty witty banter in exchange for rude looks, kidney jabs and the occasional back of the head slap.

While peekin’ around inside the womb hotel we got a few pictures. And when I say pictures I mean actual frickin’ “this is what my daughter looks like” pictures.

We learned that if there is a great profile shot and at least a few centimeters of fluid between the profile and the sac wall, you can hit this magic button on the machine and you get a frickin 3D image. I mean, we got one with our son when he was around this age, but holy CRAP this is unreal.

I never thought I’d say this, but: “Son? Your sister is cuter than you are. In the womb.”

And well, Mason wasn’t having all the bright lights and paparazzi, so he remained face down towards Julie’s spine, which is quite the spine I must say. We couldn’t get an accurate face shot, but I can assure you the following image will someday make the Yorkville chief of police furious as it will be driving by at 30 miles an hour out the window of a passing Ford Fusion.

Yes, my unborn son just mooned the crap out of you. TAKE IT! TAKE IT! TAKE IT!

As you can see, the censorship board got ahold of the image.

My kids are adorable, even if I can only judge one of their looks by the shape of their chunky little old man ass cheeks.