Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Triage is the Ninth Circle of Hell

No labor today. No baby out yet. Nothing interesting at 37 weeks. And yet I got to spend 2.5 hours in triage at the hospital just for giggles, I guess.

The NST at my 37-week appointment was fine except for some little blips every so often -- the test was reactive (which is good, it means his heart rate accelerated appropriately with movement) but every now and again, about 5-6 times within 20 min, there was a little downward spike of deceleration. One or two of those and no big deal, but 5-6 and my OB wanted me to be monitored for a while near L&D ("just in case") and have a biophysical profile. So, off to triage. Baby is good after all. His heart rate was fine without any additional "variations," and he passed the BPP with flying colors. The blips at the OB's office may have been from his position -- maybe leaning on the cord or something. So that was that. I got to lay on the super-uncomfortable gurney for over 2 hours and listen to the loud nursing staff jibber jabber at the desk and hear the first-time mom next to me who was SURE she was in labor get sent home 0 cm dilated and then listen to a worried first-time mom who was just discharged last week for possible preeclampsia and was right back in for hypertension. My first half hour was spent worrying about whether I'd be having a C-section tonight, or at least getting induced suddenly, and then after the midwife came in and reassured me that the monitoring and BPP looked fine, I just wanted off that stiff cot and to get home. Around 4pm, I finally got to go. In all this mess, there was never an internal check to see if I was dilated or effaced, but I know we'll do all that next week anyway. And since the baby's room STILL isn't done, I'll take the time. I have acupuncture tomorrow and a prenatal massage on Thursday. Let's encourage this the relaxing way, shall we?

And then I arrived home to find my dog had shat in her crate. She has to be crated when we're gone for more than a few minutes. With me working from home, now not working at home, she rarely needs to be in the crate. But. In the past month she has shat in there 3 times. She was weird around the time I was ready to birth Jackson, so I'm convinced it's behavioral in the same way. Although she's getting old (8 years now), so who knows. So I let her outside and dragged her crate out there to start cleaning it out. I called KB to complain about the shit-stained crate and remarked offhandedly that I hoped the high winds hadn't blown the fence gate open. Dunh dunh dunh. I suddenly decided to go check and discovered the creaky old gate swinging in the goddamned breeze. And no dog. So 15 minutes of pacing up and down the street with a fistful of treats and a leash later, I hopped in my car and started driving around -- and called KB to unintentionally pile onto his stress a little more. (My asshole neighbor across the street -- who doesn't work and is always home and spies on all the neighbors and knows what time I come and go every day -- as usual didn't even open her front door to ask if I needed help. This is the third dog escape, and she's been home during all 3, and she never offers help. And I saw her walking by her front window so I know she knows. Asshole.) AND THEN. Thankfully. I got a call from a neighbor around the block who captured my refugee dog and called the number on the tag. Relief. That the day didn't get any worse. Although it's not over. Sheesh.

Back to my regularly scheduled kvetching about the pains of full-term pregnancy and hoping we get spontaneous labor in the next 13 days. Rain and barometer changes and a full moon this week. Hell yeah.

 

4 comments:

Cheri said...

Dear God. I'd forgotten what it was like to be a young mom. This brings back way too many memories. Hang in there kid. Things will get better.

hope4joy said...

My dogs BOTH ran away the day that I was induced with Isabella. The vision you painted of pacing up and down the street with the leash, yep that was me at 39 weeks and 5 days pregnant. It was not a pretty sight for sure. Oh,it was also the dead of August so imagine the sweating.. The massage sounds wonderful and now you have time to work on the nursery. Good luck!

Rhianna said...

I was thinking about you this morning. :) Huzzah to a healthy and cozy bebe, harrumph to prolonged pregnancy aches and woes.

The one time I was sent to triage for an NST I was gratefully shuttled to a patient room right away by my lovely coworkers, so I didn't have to sit and listen to all the worrying and see all the hand-wringing of my fellow patients. I didn't get seen any earlier/faster, but I was able to sit on a patient bed, watch Food Network, and do some work on my laptop. Not terrible, just annoying.

My dog has been a certifiable asshole ever since we brought Arlo home. And even worse since we moved to STL. He can drink a thimble full of water and take a Niagra-like piss in the bathroom (where we must gate him, because, hello, YOU CAN'T PEE ALL OVER THE HOUSE) whenever we leave. Thing is, he doesn't get let out any more frequently when I'm home than when I'm not (I'm seldom gone all day), so I know it's behavioral. ARGH.

I dunno, maybe Katie is on your wavelength and figures that a little extra frantic and pissed off traipsing through the neighborhood will kickstart some bonafide contractions? Maybe she's just trying to help a sistah out? ;)

Roccie said...

Pics hoe.