Tag Archives: ER


9 Mar

So here’s why healthcare in America sucks. I’m 5 weeks pregnant and I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to go to the hospital because I was afraid of the cost. I did go, and I’m scared of the bill which is going to likely be a few hundred dollars. And we have pretty good insurance, and we make more the a lot of people, but we’re going to struggle with these bills.

And I wonder what do people do with worse insurance than ours? Who make less than us? Who don’t have insurance? Do they just opt not to go? Or do they go and spend years paying themselves out?

I lost my healthcare coverage  in between high school and college and one night while playing charades I dislocated my pinky toe. My friends took me to the ER and my parents spent over a year playing the thousand + doctors bill for them to relocate my toe.

I’m not going to claim being remotely informed on the current healthcare debate, but I am going to say that it needs reform. It’s not working, it hasn’t been working. Healthcare is extraordinarily expensive and pharmaceuticals even more and well we just can’t afford it.

*** Edit: A month later I got my bill $350 out of pocket expenses. Fuck.

Weeks 4-8

9 Mar

Week 4:

I  just had a panic attack. I realized that daycare is going to cost $1,100 a month for new bear. Which let me tell you would mean we’d have a negative balance without even spending money for food, gas, dog food, diapers anything. Our income – expense would be NEGATIVE. WITHOUT FOOD. Great. So I’m going to get out of debt to get into MORE debt than I was to begin with. Holy fuck. I’m expediting the process of the H finding a second job.

By my calculations, if the H gets a second job that brings in $400 a month (after tax) we will not only be in great shape, but we’ll be able to build up a savings. Without it, the first scenario. I’m hoping our tax return and a bonus for H will be more than the conservative 2 grand I estimated which will allow us to pay our debt down faster and thus save for daycare sooner.

I’ve been slowly telling people and dying not telling others. Other than my parents, S, and Mb that I told the first night I waited a whole  week to tell anyone else. I told the N’s when they came over on Sunday (1/17), unfortunately they figured it out themselves because of a baby book indiscreetly in my room. She wants to throw me a shower in August in Minnesota (I’m still super bitter that the H’s family never threw me a shower for Bear).

I finally got a hold of my best friend J who had been out of town, I had wanted to make sure everything was okay for her before I sprung my news on her, and I wanted to tell her before I told anyone else. She was beyond excited, very similar reaction to Mb. She wants to throw me a shower in July in Chicago. With all these showers I’ll definitely save money and be able to get all the things I need for new Bear or Trex as we like to call him since Bear’s reaction when we asked him if he wanted a brother or sister was “a baby trex!”

Its been surprisingly easy/difficult not telling people. Its hard not to tell people at work because we’re always talking with a co-worker who just entered her 3 trimester, and another co-worker who had a baby earlier this week. Its easy not telling my friends because well it never comes up obviously! My plan is to tell some of my co-workers at my birthday lunch, tell a select few friends at 6 weeks,  tell everyone else at 12 weeks.

Week 5:

On Saturday, Jan 23, after in excitement registering for baby stuff at Target, we got lunch at McDonalds (craving something salty) and then I went to the bathroom and I was bleeding. I started sobbing instantly. We rushed to After Hours at Allina, and they pretty much just sent us to United to the ER.

We spent 5 hours at the Hospital. I didn’t want to go, because I knew it was going to be so expensive, but I also couldn’t not go. They took my blood twice. They did two different kinds of ultrasounds on me. They saw a gestastoinal sac, but no baby in the ultrasound. “It’s too early” they kept saying. My blood work came back with the hormone levels of 6 weeks, a week longer than I actually am. No one said what that meant. I’m RH Negative (my blood is incompatible with the babies and wants to develop antibodies to kill it essentially, this usually isn’t a big deal unless the bloods meet like in the case of me bleeding) so they gave me a Rhogam shot which prevents  the antibodies from developing. Then they sent me home and put me on bed rest.

I am so nervous and scared all the time. I don’t want to cough, I don’t want to go to the bathroom, I don’t want to sleep in case I wake up bloody. I haven’t bled since yesterday. And even yesterday it was such a small amount. But everything I read screams miscarriage at me. I don’t want to lose baby trex!

We wound up telling the H’s parents since they wondered where we were all day and I didn’t want to lie about being at the hospital. So now the H’s parents and sister know. After what happened I don’t think I’m going to tell my co-workers on Thursday, or anyone else for that matter for awhile. It’s all too scary to contemplate untelling right now.

Week 6

I feel absolutely miserable. Like miserable to the point where I don’t want to do anything but talk and think about how miserable I am. I want everyone to know my misery and be miserable through hearing about my misery. But because so few people know I cannot wallow in my misery with many!

I can’t eat anything because everything smells terrible and makes me want to puke. On the other hand, if I get really hungry I do puke except nothing but stomach foam. Plus, even when I’m not actually throwing up which lately has actually been only first thing in the morning. I always want to throw up; I’m just able to restrain myself not to. Like right now, I really want to throw up, I want to throw like contemplating going down to the secret work bathroom and throwing up. I’m exhausted, and hungry, and nauseous, and just plain fucking miserable.

I am convinced that there is no possible way that women could remember this misery and opt to get pregnant again. We must be brainwashed upon birth to forget this terribleness. I promise you, if I knew it was going to be like this I would never have opted in to doing it again.

I am miserable people, miserable.

Just kill me, kill me now.

The Trip to the ER

20 Aug

So as I’m sitting away at my desk, not working, dreaming of the free Jimmy Johns that I’m going to get, my phone rings. It’s the husband. Our son has fallen at daycare and needs to be taken to the hospital for stitches. Immediately the panic sets in; “what, I need to do this?” But I don’t know what to do, where to go, what to say, what will it cost, is he crying,  I don’t have any PTO, but the sandwiches! All of these thoughts run through my head at a million miles per hour.

I start turning off my computer, my lights, and quickly find a co-worker to explain the situation and ask for help. “But I don’t know what to do!” I want to start scream. “He didn’t come with directions!” Quickly I think to myself, the husband said the blood was gushing in his eyes, but I don’t like blood.

As I walk to my car I jet out so fast that I nearly get run over by an incoming car. In a panic I call my mom twice on the phone “Mommy I need you” I want to cry, but she doesn’t answer. My heart is beating a million miles per hour, when I think of his sure to be sad face, the blood, etc. Arriving at his school, he’s just sitting on a chair smiling. His friend Sam comes up to me and points at my son’s face, “B has an owie” my son reiterates that in fact he does have an owie.  A big, not bleeding, open wound between his eyes. His teachers start talking at me though I’m not really listening I only pick up fragments while my mind races where to go next.

I’m told that Allina, my clinic, should be able to take him. I call to make sure as we start getting in the car. The lady, rudely, tells me yes they can do stitches and hangs up before I can say more. Arriving there, I’m quickly told that they can’t do stitches there for that young of a patient. I’m instructed to go to Children’s. “Not Woodwinds?” I ask as its closer. Call your insurance I’m told.

I scramble for my insurance card, after some frustrating hold music, a nice lady tells me that I can go to either the cost is the same for emergency services. Though I’m an exit away from Woodwinds the husband calls and encourages me to go to Children’s instead. It starts to rain.

Arriving at Children’s I park endlessly far away from where I actually need to be, and as the ramps detached, must walk through the rain. After a long wait, I’m finally ushered into a room. They put a numbing gel on him that takes 40 minutes, so they put in a dinosaur movie at his request and I turn to the love of my technological life; my iphone, for company.

People come and ask me to repeat the same questions it appears. I”m asked his middle name and for some reason completely blank on what it is. Then I think of my friend who he’s named after, but we call him by his last name so all I can feel on the tip of my lips is his last name. I pull the letters back and say, “Daniel” after too long of a time. It was awkward. She then asked if I was his mother, as though not knowing his middle name (and having a different last name) put me into question at why I was bringing this bleeding child into the ER.

Then the actual stitching begins. With a needle and thread. I have to straddle and hold him down while he wails and thrusts about. There is blood gushing now, into his eyes, everywhere. I’m hungry, my stomach is empty, but I can feel vomit just dying to come out. I think to myself that it’d be just my luck to throw up on my son while he’s getting stitches. I try to keep my eyes closed, but he keeps screaming “Mommy Help Me!” and I don’t know what else to do I have to look at him and try my hardest to reassure him that its going to be okay and thinking to myself how he doesn’t understand, how he must think that on some level I’m doing this to him.


He’s napping now. I think the experience was worse for me than him. My first trip to the ER as a mom.


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