After just 3 days at work I am now back home, certified unfit to work until at least March 15th, because of, wait for the pun, MY BACK. My doctor was understanding enough to realize that being at work wasn't doing me any good (on so many levels) that he issued a sick certificate and released me from that burden. He also recommended physiotherapy, so I made some calls today.
The first practice I called had a waiting list. But, I was informed, it would only take a couple of weeks until I could meet a physiotherapist. My question if it wouldn't be too late by then, considering the baby is due in just around 11 weeks, remained unanswered.
At the second practice nobody picked up the phone at first even though I called during business hours. It wasn't very reassuring. When I finally got a hold of someone the following conversation ensued:
Man: "Yes, hello?"
Me: "Yeah, hi, I am calling because I have back pain. I am 28 weeks pregnant and currently unable to work because of the pain. My doctor recommended physiotherapy."
Man: "Mmh, I don't know much about pregnancy. I think it is better if you talk to someone who does. I just don't have any empathy."
Pause.
Man (flustered): "I mean...I do have empathy. It is not nice to be in pain. It is more the specific back pain one gets during pregnancy I don't understand much about." (Short silence) "It's because I can't get pregnant."
Pause.
Man: "I will just let you talk to Camilla instead. Hold on!"
Both Camilla and I had a good laugh about the man without uterus (who is one of the physiotherapists there) and, more importantly, I managed to get a time with her next week. I have never had physiotherapy, so I am not sure what to expect. But as long as it helps...
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
February 09, 2009
December 17, 2008
Depressive episode
I never had that conversation with my boss last week.
I had spent the whole week preparing and going over exactly what I was going to say in my head again and again and again, but then he was just too busy. Or didn't care. Maybe it wasn't about actually having that conversation at all, but just about scaring me and making me feel ill (which he succeeded with). I had a lousy, miserable week. It didn't help much that my union assured me that my boss' demeanour was, at best, dubious and unprofessional and that I didn't need to worry about his threats. Neither did it help that I got support from the colleagues I talked to. (I even received an email from one colleague who said that she also felt that the attitude towards her had changed after she had her baby. She referred to it as "becoming unpopular".)
So, with the union and my colleagues behind me I went to work and waited. And waited. And waited. When it got late in the afternoon and nothing had happened I started to relize that there might not be a meeting. The last half hour was probably the longest of my life. As soon as I could leave, I did. I heard my boss walking down the hallway behind me as I left, but I remembered something I learned from watching one too many prison shows: never look back!
He had his chances. I sat at my desk all day, he could have called or come over and told me to wait. He even could have shouted after me there in the hallway. I really did not feel it was my job to remind him and/or turn up voluntarily in order to ensure that he would not need to go home in the evening without having humiliated me (again).
Getting out of there and knowing that I wouldn't be back for several weeks was as great a feeling as you'd imagine. But when I got home and had the time to sit down, it really hit me. All of the stress of the last weeks, both physically and psychologically, just came crashing down on me. I only wanted to lie in bed, pull the blanket over my head and and cry until someone else had fixed my life. I did not want to be asked anything, I did not want to hear anything, I just wanted things to be over and taken care of, one way or the other.
Things are a little better by now, but I already dread the day I have to return to work. Every time I think about going back I get overwhelmed by feelings of helplessness, panic and nausea. If the reality of it should come anywhere close to my worst fears, I will go home and call in sick. Because that is what I feel.
I had spent the whole week preparing and going over exactly what I was going to say in my head again and again and again, but then he was just too busy. Or didn't care. Maybe it wasn't about actually having that conversation at all, but just about scaring me and making me feel ill (which he succeeded with). I had a lousy, miserable week. It didn't help much that my union assured me that my boss' demeanour was, at best, dubious and unprofessional and that I didn't need to worry about his threats. Neither did it help that I got support from the colleagues I talked to. (I even received an email from one colleague who said that she also felt that the attitude towards her had changed after she had her baby. She referred to it as "becoming unpopular".)
So, with the union and my colleagues behind me I went to work and waited. And waited. And waited. When it got late in the afternoon and nothing had happened I started to relize that there might not be a meeting. The last half hour was probably the longest of my life. As soon as I could leave, I did. I heard my boss walking down the hallway behind me as I left, but I remembered something I learned from watching one too many prison shows: never look back!
He had his chances. I sat at my desk all day, he could have called or come over and told me to wait. He even could have shouted after me there in the hallway. I really did not feel it was my job to remind him and/or turn up voluntarily in order to ensure that he would not need to go home in the evening without having humiliated me (again).
Getting out of there and knowing that I wouldn't be back for several weeks was as great a feeling as you'd imagine. But when I got home and had the time to sit down, it really hit me. All of the stress of the last weeks, both physically and psychologically, just came crashing down on me. I only wanted to lie in bed, pull the blanket over my head and and cry until someone else had fixed my life. I did not want to be asked anything, I did not want to hear anything, I just wanted things to be over and taken care of, one way or the other.
Things are a little better by now, but I already dread the day I have to return to work. Every time I think about going back I get overwhelmed by feelings of helplessness, panic and nausea. If the reality of it should come anywhere close to my worst fears, I will go home and call in sick. Because that is what I feel.
September 17, 2008
It's alright, baby's coming back
The baby's back. Or more precisely: it was never gone. There was no miscarriage - I was pregnant all the time!
Now, let me make this very clear right away: the doctors last week had no doubt about their diagnosis. There was no "maybe" or "possibly". I certainly wouldn't have told people that I had a miscarriage if there had been any chance that everything would turn out okay. They said: "You had a miscarriage. The child probably had a genetic defect or another sickness that meant it wasn't viable. There is not much left of the pregnancy, your body will take care of it itself. You will probably have a somewhat stronger menstruation and that's it. Sorry, but these things happen and there's no telling why.". And I accepted that. If a trained medical professional sits there, looks you straight in the face and says that you miscarried, no doubt whatsoever, you believe them.
But when I got home and started to read up on the topic things did not seem all that clear anymore. I primarily wanted to know what would happen at the next hospital appointment when I began my search. And I found several people who had been through the same as me: light bleedings and no visible embryo during the ultrasound at around week 6 or 7. It's just that almost all of those people had been told that it was common that no baby was visible on an ultrasound this early on in the pregnancy. They were told to come back for another ultrasound 1 or 2 weeks later and by then most of them could see a baby. Not all, some had miscarried, but a lot of them. The more I read, the more I wondered why my doctors had been so dead-sure that I had miscarried. Could it not have been to early to see a baby? Could I maybe still be pregnant? The bleedings had stopped almost right away and for over a week I had been feeling fine. Pregnant, not like I was going to bleed out at any moment. That had to count for something, right?
I so wanted to hope that everything would turn out well, that I would be one of the lucky ones, but I didn't dare. What were the odds that the doctors had been that horribly wrong? Still the "what if" was on my mind all the time. Those were some of the longest days of my life.
When I returned to the hospital for my follow-up today I took up my concerns with the doctor. It was not the same doctor as last time and he seemed to agree with me that it was worth doing another check up. Some seconds after starting the ultrasound he turned the screen towards me and said: "There's the baby. There's the beating heart.". He kept pointing at things. Everything was there! Everything!
I am in week 8 now (7+2), which is exactly what I had calculated myself. The baby has the right size and is developing just fine. The doctor even thinks he found what caused the bleeding and according to him there is nothing to worry about.
I want the week back that they stole from me.
Now, let me make this very clear right away: the doctors last week had no doubt about their diagnosis. There was no "maybe" or "possibly". I certainly wouldn't have told people that I had a miscarriage if there had been any chance that everything would turn out okay. They said: "You had a miscarriage. The child probably had a genetic defect or another sickness that meant it wasn't viable. There is not much left of the pregnancy, your body will take care of it itself. You will probably have a somewhat stronger menstruation and that's it. Sorry, but these things happen and there's no telling why.". And I accepted that. If a trained medical professional sits there, looks you straight in the face and says that you miscarried, no doubt whatsoever, you believe them.
But when I got home and started to read up on the topic things did not seem all that clear anymore. I primarily wanted to know what would happen at the next hospital appointment when I began my search. And I found several people who had been through the same as me: light bleedings and no visible embryo during the ultrasound at around week 6 or 7. It's just that almost all of those people had been told that it was common that no baby was visible on an ultrasound this early on in the pregnancy. They were told to come back for another ultrasound 1 or 2 weeks later and by then most of them could see a baby. Not all, some had miscarried, but a lot of them. The more I read, the more I wondered why my doctors had been so dead-sure that I had miscarried. Could it not have been to early to see a baby? Could I maybe still be pregnant? The bleedings had stopped almost right away and for over a week I had been feeling fine. Pregnant, not like I was going to bleed out at any moment. That had to count for something, right?
I so wanted to hope that everything would turn out well, that I would be one of the lucky ones, but I didn't dare. What were the odds that the doctors had been that horribly wrong? Still the "what if" was on my mind all the time. Those were some of the longest days of my life.
When I returned to the hospital for my follow-up today I took up my concerns with the doctor. It was not the same doctor as last time and he seemed to agree with me that it was worth doing another check up. Some seconds after starting the ultrasound he turned the screen towards me and said: "There's the baby. There's the beating heart.". He kept pointing at things. Everything was there! Everything!
I am in week 8 now (7+2), which is exactly what I had calculated myself. The baby has the right size and is developing just fine. The doctor even thinks he found what caused the bleeding and according to him there is nothing to worry about.
I want the week back that they stole from me.
September 09, 2008
Miscarriage
After another tiny bleeding yesterday morning my husband and I drove to the hospital where it was discovered that I had lost the baby. I basically have a normally developed amniotic sack and my body still believes that I am pregnant (with all the usual symptoms), but there is no baby (anymore). What exactly went wrong couldn't be determined and I can honestly say that it would not make a difference for me to know. When the pregnancy ends so early on it is most likely that the baby had a genetic defect or was not viable in another way. Nothing I could have done or not done would have made a difference.
I was, and still am, sad. But I am also grateful for knowing the truth and lucky because I went to a doctor and the miscarriage was discovered so early on. I "lost" 7 weeks of pregnancy, but a lot of people do not find out about those kinds of miscarriages until the routine ultrasound in week 17. Imagine that!
I will have to go back to the hospital next week to see how everything has developed and if I need further medical help. And then I guess we take it from there.
But there won't be a May baby...
I was, and still am, sad. But I am also grateful for knowing the truth and lucky because I went to a doctor and the miscarriage was discovered so early on. I "lost" 7 weeks of pregnancy, but a lot of people do not find out about those kinds of miscarriages until the routine ultrasound in week 17. Imagine that!
I will have to go back to the hospital next week to see how everything has developed and if I need further medical help. And then I guess we take it from there.
But there won't be a May baby...
September 07, 2008
Sunday, bloody Sunday
The last thing you want when you are pregnant is to start bleeding from all the wrong places, but unfortunately that is exactly what happened when I woke up today. I do understand that not all bleedings during a pregnancy immediately indicate a miscarriage and it was a very light bleeding, but as I haven't had this problem before it came as a shock. It seems that the only thing I could do was to basically spend the day on the couch, moving as little as possible and trying to relax. The bleeding went over after a little while, but I am still worried. So tomorrow I face the impossible task of getting an appointment for an ultrasound - and fast.
Watch out for low-flying pigs!
Watch out for low-flying pigs!
August 27, 2008
Weight loss fraud
Today I want to tell you the truth. About Muddiz. Or more precisely: about Muddiz and her recent weight loss.
Loyal readers of her blog know that she has been on a cruel, chocolate-free diet for weeks. Her incentive for the first weight loss goal was a winter coat she wanted to buy after having lost 5 kg. She has now ordered the coat, which means that she must have lost the weight.
WRONG! She did not lose that weight - she just forced it off her hips and onto mine! I don't know how she did it or when exactly, but as matter of fact I have gained weight as Muddiz reduced hers. A coincidence? I don't think so!
The real story goes like this: Muddiz forces 5 kg of fat to vacate her body. She shows them the way over to my house. Hunger attacks announce the impending threat. My Gastric Bypass takes on the fight, but 2 kg survive the gruelsome battle and attach themselves to my hips.
It has got to be the weight loss fraud of the year...
Loyal readers of her blog know that she has been on a cruel, chocolate-free diet for weeks. Her incentive for the first weight loss goal was a winter coat she wanted to buy after having lost 5 kg. She has now ordered the coat, which means that she must have lost the weight.
WRONG! She did not lose that weight - she just forced it off her hips and onto mine! I don't know how she did it or when exactly, but as matter of fact I have gained weight as Muddiz reduced hers. A coincidence? I don't think so!
The real story goes like this: Muddiz forces 5 kg of fat to vacate her body. She shows them the way over to my house. Hunger attacks announce the impending threat. My Gastric Bypass takes on the fight, but 2 kg survive the gruelsome battle and attach themselves to my hips.
It has got to be the weight loss fraud of the year...
July 31, 2008
Mother's little helper
An Aspirin a day keeps the headache away.
That could be the motto of my life at the moment, if I wasn't in fact taking Alvedon or Ipren instead of Aspirin and definitely popping more than one pill a day either way .
I am stuck in a migraine-inducing nightmare, a combination of warm weather and a teething baby that makes taking painkillers a daily routine. The headaches I get are so intense that the slightest movements cause pain.
I have always made it a point to avoid taking headache pills, so I am not used to being all drugged up and will use this as an excuse for just about anything.
I pull weird faces and drool uncontrollably? It's because I'm drugged up.
I eat too much chocolate and neglect my chores? It's because I'm drugged up.
I let my crying baby lie in his crib while I go away and write this post? It's because I'm drugged up.
That could be the motto of my life at the moment, if I wasn't in fact taking Alvedon or Ipren instead of Aspirin and definitely popping more than one pill a day either way .
I am stuck in a migraine-inducing nightmare, a combination of warm weather and a teething baby that makes taking painkillers a daily routine. The headaches I get are so intense that the slightest movements cause pain.
I have always made it a point to avoid taking headache pills, so I am not used to being all drugged up and will use this as an excuse for just about anything.
I pull weird faces and drool uncontrollably? It's because I'm drugged up.
I eat too much chocolate and neglect my chores? It's because I'm drugged up.
I let my crying baby lie in his crib while I go away and write this post? It's because I'm drugged up.
May 23, 2008
Throat infection
I woke up with throat pain today, which means that means I have one of my three annual throat infections. They always follow the same pattern: first it hurts when I swallow, then my throat closes up, everything hurts for a couple of days and when I start to get cough attacks I know it's almost over.
It is not contagious, but a clear sign that I maybe should have put on some warmer clothing some time. Can you hear that sound? That is Muddiz laughing! Let's just say we had a little discussion yesterday about whether one should be wearing a jacket or not...
I hope to get better until tomorrow or speaking will be out of the question. The sound you hear right now? A sigh of relief from everyone invited about not having to listen to my funny Swerman (Swedish + German) for a change...
It is not contagious, but a clear sign that I maybe should have put on some warmer clothing some time. Can you hear that sound? That is Muddiz laughing! Let's just say we had a little discussion yesterday about whether one should be wearing a jacket or not...
I hope to get better until tomorrow or speaking will be out of the question. The sound you hear right now? A sigh of relief from everyone invited about not having to listen to my funny Swerman (Swedish + German) for a change...
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