Anybody else have a chaotic past week or 2? We sure have, and because of it, I hadn't been online to see IC come back to life (GREAT to have it back!)
I ended up having an emergency C-section a week and a half ago. Yep, we were expecting in July, but the baby came a bit early regardless.
I'd laid down for a nap, and woke up in a lovely puddle of blood and fluids.
The first thing that went through my mind was, "God DAMMIT, these sheets were expensive!"
Not only did the water break during my 1 hour nap, but the placenta abrupted (had torn from the uterus wall) which produced heavy bleeding. Needless to say, I was in definate medical shock from major blood loss. Damn near passed out, and couldn't concentrate on anything for shit.
We rushed over to the hospital, and discovered through ultrasound that the baby had not only dropped, but he was also breeched (ass end down instead of head) Although I actually wasn't in any pain, I was contracting every 2 minutes. However, I wasn't dialated at all, and they were talking about holding off on labor for a few days. Then, his heart rate dropped, and the next thing I knew, I was being prepped for emergency surgery.
They proceeded to shove a needle in my back twice---they didn't penetrate the muscle the first time around. Buuuut, after a few minutes of injections of this, that and the other, I could have cared less. Gotta love demerol, nitrus (however the fuck they're spelled...) and morphine
I ended up with a 6 inch incision, several layers of stitches and 20 staples. That hurt like a fucking bitch for the first 3 days (percs for the pain, though, I wasn't complaining)
He was born at 31 weeks gestation age, weighing 3 pounds and 5 ounces, measuring in at 16 3/4 inches long. He was a lot longer and heavier than they'd expected for his age. They estimated his full term weight would have been between 10 and 12 pounds (HOLY SHIT, lol)
There's nothing wrong with him medically what-so-ever, he's merely underweight, and needs to learn to suck and swallow from a bottle on his own. He had a slight touch of jaundice, but he's been out from under the bili lamp for a while now. He'll be in the NICU for a few more weeks, tops, until he learns to eat from the bottle. He's gaining weight at a rate of roughly 2 ounces per day, too. He dropped down to 3 lbs 3 ozs during his first week (normal for babies to lose upwards of 10%-15% of their birth weight before they gain) and has been steadily gaining it back. Right now, he's weighing in at 3 lbs 14 ozs. NICU staff says he needs to gain a minumum of 10 more ounces before he's at an acceptable weight to come home, and again, needs to be able to eat from the bottle.
And he definately has a mind of his own. He refuses to suck on the pacifier they gave him, rips his sleepers off (strong little fuck, too) refuses to keep his cap on, refuses to stay wrapped in the blanket, pulls out his IV, yanks out his feeding tube, fights going to sleep after being fed--he forces himself to stay awake for over an hour instead of conking right out...The boy's giving those nurses a run for their money already, lmfao. Oh, and he already mastered the art of flipping people off He only does that during a particular nurse's shift...That's my boy, if ya don't like 'um, let 'um know, lol
But, aside from all the early happiness, we've got a shitload of bullshit to put up with. In FL, they're called DCF, Dept. of Children and Families. My term for them? Useless bastards.
We just could not afford private insurance, my husband works as a temp, and can't afford his temp company's insurance, and we applied for Medicaid 4 times, and were denied 4 times. We're just those folks who're in the grey zone, we don't qualify for Medicaid, and we can't afford insurance. Rock---Hard Place, ya know?
So a DCF worker comes strutting in, scolds us for not applying for Medicaid, and claimed there was no record of any filing attempt, and after arguing for who knows how long, we filed AGAIN, fully expecting to get denied AGAIN. Although, as surprised as we were, NOW we were accepted. I have one month of Medicaid coverage, enough for 1 post-pardum check-up. The baby has month-by-month coverage (meaning we will have to fucking re-file every month) and we have "limited financial assistance", meaning we'll have bills over $1000 taken care of, otherwise, the rest of it comes out of our pocket if it's under $1000. Why? Because we're $1000 over the annual limit for Medicaid eligibility. Lovely.
Whatever they (DCF) did, they made it so I couldn't be discharged from the hospital until I met with a damn shrink. We know it was DCF, because we asked who ordered the evaluation. Why the shrink? Because I have a phobia with large crowds, and a needle phobia and I refused to have one more needle shoved in my skin. Somehow, that warranted me being mentally unfit and in need of a shrink's evaluation. But, after talking to the guy for god knows how long, he stands up and says, "Well, I don't know what those folks were worried about, but you're obviously mentally sound. You just have a couple of phobias. Everyone has a phobia of some sort to some extent or another, though. You're perfectly normal. But I will give you a prescription for Prozac to control your phobias if you're willing." I'll get to that (the Prozac) in a bit...
Now, the fucking DCF investigator, that whore's another story. From what I understand, she was sent over because we didn't have any insurance, and that's standard practice.
SHE comes in, and the first thing she does is look around the room at the 3 of us (myself, hubby and my mom) and glares at us. Then she starts off on this speed speil about how she already knows we're an unfit home, uncaring people, claimed I wasn't taking my medications (I was taking percs, motrin, and iron pills for anemia from the blood loss, WTF, bitch???) and then she has the audacity to stand there, stare me straight in the eyes, and say, "I already know you're mentally unfit to be a parent. Either we keep the baby, or we'll require you have 24 hour supervision with it."
Fuckin' EXCUSE ME? I froze for a second, trying to comprehend that she'd actually just threatened to take my son, while my mom and hubby are asking the obvious, "Did you even BOTHER to read the doctor's and psychiatrist's reports?" To which she answers "No." "Then what in the hell makes you think you already know everything if you don't even know the basics?" She never answered that. All she said was we needed to make a walk-through appointment with her, so she "could make sure the home's not dangerous."
A few days later, we'd gone back in to visit him, and we spoke with the DCF chick that had us re-file for Medicaid, and told her about the investigator, gave her her name, and got the bitch's supervisor's number. "If I were you, I would call this woman, she's so and so's supervisor. Lodge an official complaint against her and demand a new investigator be assigned to you. Do NOT make a walk-through appointment with so and so."
So, we've been calling the supervisor all week long, and getting nowhere. All we get is voicemail and the occasional secretary. Leave a message in writing, and in VM? Sure, not a problem. We're STILL waiting for a call back, on top of calling every hour during business hours.
Ok, now the prescriptions. I had one for percs--those are gone now, 30 pills don't last long at 6 per day total. My instructions were 2 pills every 3 hours for pain, but I only took 1 every 4 hours. I can tolerate pain pretty well, I really didn't need them as bad as the doctor thought.
If anyone's heard of an iron pill called "Nu-Iron", it was a demon pill I took for 6 days. Demon pill, you say? Yes, demon pill. Those bastards had me on the toilet every 30 minutes, and doubled over with constant excruciating stomach pain all the time. The pain from those woke me from a dead sleep constantly. I was in so much pain that I couldn't move, and couldn't scream (believe me, I tried like hell) The 4 percs I took at once never so much as dented the pain. When it came time for dose 7, I threw them out. There was no way in hell I was going to put up with the side effects any more. The runs I could have dealt with, but the stomach pain, no way. Enough was enough. I'll get my iron count back up through a high iron diet & vitamins, thank you.
Ohh, the Prozac. The other Demon Pill. I quit taking those at the 6th dose. I noticed I'd gone from relatively docile to filled with blood-boiling rage. All it took was a glance from someone and I lost my temper. Therefore, I decided after contemplating and having a discussion with my husband that the rage side effect (which was listed as one) wasn't worth squat in exchange for controlling phobias. Since I quit taking those, I haven't been anywhere near as aggressive, irritable, agitated, and hair-trigger tempered as I was while I was on them. Those got flushed down the toilet. I will never crack and take another head drug again. Actually, if anyone else has been on any anti-depressants for one reason or another, I'd love to know if you had any similar side effects.
And sadly, due to the eventual DCF investigator visit, my Ice grow was destroyed, and all grow equip. was tossed. I was hoping to stockpile Ice for after his birth, but shit happens......
Thus ends my past week and a half of chaos and bullshit. What kind of hair-pulling, teeth-grinding crap have you been dealing with?
I ended up having an emergency C-section a week and a half ago. Yep, we were expecting in July, but the baby came a bit early regardless.
I'd laid down for a nap, and woke up in a lovely puddle of blood and fluids.
The first thing that went through my mind was, "God DAMMIT, these sheets were expensive!"
Not only did the water break during my 1 hour nap, but the placenta abrupted (had torn from the uterus wall) which produced heavy bleeding. Needless to say, I was in definate medical shock from major blood loss. Damn near passed out, and couldn't concentrate on anything for shit.
We rushed over to the hospital, and discovered through ultrasound that the baby had not only dropped, but he was also breeched (ass end down instead of head) Although I actually wasn't in any pain, I was contracting every 2 minutes. However, I wasn't dialated at all, and they were talking about holding off on labor for a few days. Then, his heart rate dropped, and the next thing I knew, I was being prepped for emergency surgery.
They proceeded to shove a needle in my back twice---they didn't penetrate the muscle the first time around. Buuuut, after a few minutes of injections of this, that and the other, I could have cared less. Gotta love demerol, nitrus (however the fuck they're spelled...) and morphine
I ended up with a 6 inch incision, several layers of stitches and 20 staples. That hurt like a fucking bitch for the first 3 days (percs for the pain, though, I wasn't complaining)
He was born at 31 weeks gestation age, weighing 3 pounds and 5 ounces, measuring in at 16 3/4 inches long. He was a lot longer and heavier than they'd expected for his age. They estimated his full term weight would have been between 10 and 12 pounds (HOLY SHIT, lol)
There's nothing wrong with him medically what-so-ever, he's merely underweight, and needs to learn to suck and swallow from a bottle on his own. He had a slight touch of jaundice, but he's been out from under the bili lamp for a while now. He'll be in the NICU for a few more weeks, tops, until he learns to eat from the bottle. He's gaining weight at a rate of roughly 2 ounces per day, too. He dropped down to 3 lbs 3 ozs during his first week (normal for babies to lose upwards of 10%-15% of their birth weight before they gain) and has been steadily gaining it back. Right now, he's weighing in at 3 lbs 14 ozs. NICU staff says he needs to gain a minumum of 10 more ounces before he's at an acceptable weight to come home, and again, needs to be able to eat from the bottle.
And he definately has a mind of his own. He refuses to suck on the pacifier they gave him, rips his sleepers off (strong little fuck, too) refuses to keep his cap on, refuses to stay wrapped in the blanket, pulls out his IV, yanks out his feeding tube, fights going to sleep after being fed--he forces himself to stay awake for over an hour instead of conking right out...The boy's giving those nurses a run for their money already, lmfao. Oh, and he already mastered the art of flipping people off
He only does that during a particular nurse's shift...That's my boy, if ya don't like 'um, let 'um know, lol But, aside from all the early happiness, we've got a shitload of bullshit to put up with. In FL, they're called DCF, Dept. of Children and Families. My term for them? Useless bastards.
We just could not afford private insurance, my husband works as a temp, and can't afford his temp company's insurance, and we applied for Medicaid 4 times, and were denied 4 times. We're just those folks who're in the grey zone, we don't qualify for Medicaid, and we can't afford insurance. Rock---Hard Place, ya know?
So a DCF worker comes strutting in, scolds us for not applying for Medicaid, and claimed there was no record of any filing attempt, and after arguing for who knows how long, we filed AGAIN, fully expecting to get denied AGAIN. Although, as surprised as we were, NOW we were accepted. I have one month of Medicaid coverage, enough for 1 post-pardum check-up. The baby has month-by-month coverage (meaning we will have to fucking re-file every month) and we have "limited financial assistance", meaning we'll have bills over $1000 taken care of, otherwise, the rest of it comes out of our pocket if it's under $1000. Why? Because we're $1000 over the annual limit for Medicaid eligibility. Lovely.
Whatever they (DCF) did, they made it so I couldn't be discharged from the hospital until I met with a damn shrink. We know it was DCF, because we asked who ordered the evaluation. Why the shrink? Because I have a phobia with large crowds, and a needle phobia and I refused to have one more needle shoved in my skin. Somehow, that warranted me being mentally unfit and in need of a shrink's evaluation. But, after talking to the guy for god knows how long, he stands up and says, "Well, I don't know what those folks were worried about, but you're obviously mentally sound. You just have a couple of phobias. Everyone has a phobia of some sort to some extent or another, though. You're perfectly normal. But I will give you a prescription for Prozac to control your phobias if you're willing." I'll get to that (the Prozac) in a bit...
Now, the fucking DCF investigator, that whore's another story. From what I understand, she was sent over because we didn't have any insurance, and that's standard practice.
SHE comes in, and the first thing she does is look around the room at the 3 of us (myself, hubby and my mom) and glares at us. Then she starts off on this speed speil about how she already knows we're an unfit home, uncaring people, claimed I wasn't taking my medications (I was taking percs, motrin, and iron pills for anemia from the blood loss, WTF, bitch???) and then she has the audacity to stand there, stare me straight in the eyes, and say, "I already know you're mentally unfit to be a parent. Either we keep the baby, or we'll require you have 24 hour supervision with it."
Fuckin' EXCUSE ME? I froze for a second, trying to comprehend that she'd actually just threatened to take my son, while my mom and hubby are asking the obvious, "Did you even BOTHER to read the doctor's and psychiatrist's reports?" To which she answers "No." "Then what in the hell makes you think you already know everything if you don't even know the basics?" She never answered that. All she said was we needed to make a walk-through appointment with her, so she "could make sure the home's not dangerous."
A few days later, we'd gone back in to visit him, and we spoke with the DCF chick that had us re-file for Medicaid, and told her about the investigator, gave her her name, and got the bitch's supervisor's number. "If I were you, I would call this woman, she's so and so's supervisor. Lodge an official complaint against her and demand a new investigator be assigned to you. Do NOT make a walk-through appointment with so and so."
So, we've been calling the supervisor all week long, and getting nowhere. All we get is voicemail and the occasional secretary. Leave a message in writing, and in VM? Sure, not a problem. We're STILL waiting for a call back, on top of calling every hour during business hours.
Ok, now the prescriptions. I had one for percs--those are gone now, 30 pills don't last long at 6 per day total. My instructions were 2 pills every 3 hours for pain, but I only took 1 every 4 hours. I can tolerate pain pretty well, I really didn't need them as bad as the doctor thought.
If anyone's heard of an iron pill called "Nu-Iron", it was a demon pill I took for 6 days. Demon pill, you say? Yes, demon pill. Those bastards had me on the toilet every 30 minutes, and doubled over with constant excruciating stomach pain all the time. The pain from those woke me from a dead sleep constantly. I was in so much pain that I couldn't move, and couldn't scream (believe me, I tried like hell) The 4 percs I took at once never so much as dented the pain. When it came time for dose 7, I threw them out. There was no way in hell I was going to put up with the side effects any more. The runs I could have dealt with, but the stomach pain, no way. Enough was enough. I'll get my iron count back up through a high iron diet & vitamins, thank you.
Ohh, the Prozac. The other Demon Pill. I quit taking those at the 6th dose. I noticed I'd gone from relatively docile to filled with blood-boiling rage. All it took was a glance from someone and I lost my temper. Therefore, I decided after contemplating and having a discussion with my husband that the rage side effect (which was listed as one) wasn't worth squat in exchange for controlling phobias. Since I quit taking those, I haven't been anywhere near as aggressive, irritable, agitated, and hair-trigger tempered as I was while I was on them. Those got flushed down the toilet. I will never crack and take another head drug again. Actually, if anyone else has been on any anti-depressants for one reason or another, I'd love to know if you had any similar side effects.
And sadly, due to the eventual DCF investigator visit, my Ice grow was destroyed, and all grow equip. was tossed. I was hoping to stockpile Ice for after his birth, but shit happens......
Thus ends my past week and a half of chaos and bullshit. What kind of hair-pulling, teeth-grinding crap have you been dealing with?
Last edited:
