Categories: uncategorized
Date: 30 June 2008 21:40:51
Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Ahem.
Went to the hospital in Cardiff today for what we thought was going to be mainly a chat with a neo-natologist, and a final appointment with the obstetrician there to finalise details for delivery etc. Also, a nurse from the cleft lip & palate team in Swansea was coming up to meet us for a quick chat before our obs. appointment. You need to know that we were meeting the cleft l&p nurse at 10.30, before an 11.00 appointment with the obs. You also need to know that I am not moaning about the delays - if you are a consultant obstetrician and you have an emergency, that's a real emergency, not something you can deal with in 10 minutes, and other people are just going to have to wait. It's the way it is - I just want to give you an idea of how our day went. So:
10.30: successfully meet Swansea nurse
11.00: eventually arrive at fetal medicine clinic which has moved again. Sit in waiting room.
11.50 ish: see neonatologist (this was helpful) she offers to take us around the special care unit and we say we'll wait till we've seen the obs. so we don't end up missing an appointment. Back to waiting room.
12.30 ish (I think, it's all a bit hazy now): go to desk to check we are actually in the right place... you never know. We are. Back to waiting room.
1pmish: see obs. Have scan at which point they discover abnormality in the brain which they hadn't seen before. Sinking feeling we are about to become the reason everyone else is late for the rest of the day. Obs. gets senior sonographer person in to have a look as well. Suggest we might want to see consultant neurologist to explain what has been seen. Go to different room (technically probably "counselling room" bleah) to wait.
Play 'spot the neurosurgeon' as we watch various doctor types pass the door.
Some time later - don't know when as time now has no meaning and could be progressing at a different rate everywhere else in the universe apart from that room as far as we can tell: identify neurosurgeon. He's the tall chap sauntering along the corridor tossing a plastic model brain from hand to hand. This provokes attack of the giggles (also due to weakness from lack of nourishment) which takes some time to control.
Later again (he has had chat with obs. before seeing us, this is good as I have time to stop laughing): have chat with neuro guy. We like him. Sensible questions & answers, no shilly-shallying about. Also he asks whether his follow-up letter should be addressed to just me, or to me and mr b. No-one has ever asked us this before and I am very pleased. Usually letters are addressed to ms. birdie, even though they have met mr b and know we are married and we are doing all this together etc. So I am looking forward to getting a letter addressed to Mr & Mrs birdie.
Still in counselling room with obs. Time has no meaning: obs. notices that Ginger's abdominal circumference appears to be the same as it was when we were last scanned about 10 days ago. This apparently a cause for concern. Goes off to track down sonographer so we can go back and be scanned again. Sonographer 'probably off having lunch'. You don't say.
Several hundred years later: back to scanning room. Remeasure AC which looks a bit better, also measure blood flow through cord which looks okay, so probably no worries but suggest seeing local hospital next week to double check.
Back to counselling room. (Why? WHY?): finally have conversation about induction. At this point obs. also decides to say "how do you feel about finding out these new things today?". Resist to temptation to say "hungry. let me go home before I eat you." and fob her off with some old nonsense.
Finally out of counselling room. Decide that we did Special Care for three weeks with Groover (although in a different hospital) and that once you've seen one, you've seen 'em all, and we really don't need to do that right now.
Go to hospital shop and buy crisps and chocolate.
3.15 pm: get into car and leave, shaking the dust from our sandals as we go.
Question arising: I know the naming of conditions and whatnot often goes after the doctors who discovered them. How the heck did this particular brain abnormality come to be known as a Dandy Walker??! Took us a while to decide they weren't making some obscure reference to the Dandy Warhols, but I still think it sounds like a piece of toddler equipment.