Week 9 - The Emergency Room Visit

Week 9

Since even before middle school, I was a troubleshooter. I mainly was good at fixing computer problems. I was that neighbor kid that could help you remove a virus or clear out stuff to make your computer run faster. I was good at fixing things and to this day I still am. In my career I've done it for years, now I supervise and train people how to do it.

I'm used to seeing a problem and immediately start working on a plan to correct the issue or prevent the issue from happening again. Pregnancy symptoms are something you have absolutely no control over. Seeing Melanie like this sucks because there's absolutely nothing I can do beside be supportive. Being supportive, although is great, doesn't fix anything. I know it means a lot to her but I can't help thinking it doesn't really make things any better overall. 

We went to the Emergency Room this week. I had a feeling she would be okay but we weren't 100% sure. Melanie was in more pain then I've ever seen her in. I left work shortly after arriving and drove straight home to take her to the E.R. On my way her mother called and said "Normally I can calm her down but I can't, she needs to be seen right now." It was even more serious than I thought. It was the first time in my life that I no longer cared about any traffic laws. I don't live too far from base but I got home in less than 10 minutes. It took convincing to even get her into the truck, I almost had to call an ambulance. We ended up going to a hospital even closer than the one we planned on because she was in that much pain. We rushed in and got checked in.

Later on, they had to remind me that my truck was still parked in the front entrance. I briefly left Melanie so I could park the truck somewhere else. As I was closing the door, I couldn't help but to think about my unborn sister. My mother had a miscarriage late into her pregnancy before I was born. She began telling me about it as I became a teenager and it brought her a lot of pain. So much that she asked me to inform my brother once he was older rather then having to explain it again. It felt strange. It felt like the moment from her telling me about it till the moment I stepped inside the truck was only a few seconds. I was worried my wife would go through the same thing.

Luckily it didn't take long to discover it was a "raging UTI" as the nurse practitioner called it. She's had UTI's before but this was beyond anything on the spectrum of UTI pain. They still checked to make sure baby was OK. We were a week away from our first appointment and ultrasound and I had no clue what to expect from the ER. After we found out it was a UTI and began treatment, there was a lot of waiting. I was still in my uniform and my face had a serious look for so long it started hurting. I was optimistic but tense. They did an ultrasound but the technician made sure I sat in a designated seat that was positioned next to her but away from the screen. From the clicking, it appeared she took some photos. She didn't say much and when I asked how everything looked, she said she wasn't qualified to speak on the results. Her name was Dee Dee. She was a sweet lady but that day I wasn't a fan. 

They brought us back in the room and we waited some more. Nearly an hour. I understood it was probably protocol to not show the screen just incase something horrible had happened, but after figuring out it was a UTI I was hoping they'd be more open. Nope. The nurse eventually came back with a printout basically saying the baby was okay and that the heart rate was 173 bpm. Thank God! They provided no photos or further information but at this point we were just ready to leave and go back home. What a day.