So what happened? First, I want to state that most of the medical staff were wonderful. From the ER to my nurses, so I'd really like to thank them for taking care of me.
Vince had a hard time smiling last weekend.
My beef is with the pulmonologist--not my usual pulmonologist but a new one accredited by HPPI, the cheap insurance from work. This new guy really needs a lesson or two on bedside manners. After emergency care was given, I was wheeled to my room where the pulmo came to visit. After checking my breathing, he said that he had authorized medicines that may cause birth defects to my son. I can't even describe the shock Vince and I felt. Then he proceeded on rattling off a list of possible defects, like a grocery list, then, just like that, he left.
I was horrified and kept praying and crying. The crying definitely was no help with my asthma, and I had an even more difficult time breathing after that terrible visit from the pulmo. Several friends told me they were praying, too, and that helped comfort me.
But comfort only came when the OB came to check up on me and the baby in the evening. After I mentioned what the pulmo said, the OB got mad and said, "That is not true. We will never give you anything that may harm your baby. In fact, we couldn't perform emergency procedures immediately because we had to think of the baby. All the medicines given to you are safe and will not harm you or the child." The OB also assured me that had there been a need to give me treatment that may harm my boy, they will need to get our permission first since no one wants to get sued.
So there. That is one major reason why I felt very negative vibes when I was confined. I suffered--and perhaps my son did, too--a ton of undue stress. The other source of stress? That's in the next post. Lemme just get a glass of water since I'm getting upset all over again.