What an unpleasant weekend. Well, not all of it was that bad.
Friday Ian came home early, and he, Mary and I all got in the car and headed off to the OB/GYN. My Dr checked me out, and came to the conclusion that I have an inner ear problem called Meniere's Disease (which has been suggested to me in the past). He's in the process of getting me to see and ENT specialist, and there isn't much to do until I get that appointment.
Friday night was Purgatory. Ian and I dropped Mary off at Ravens place for the evening, and headed off through the snow and ice to the south side of the city. We stopped at Quizno's for subs for supper, and somehow the keys got locked inside the running car. Fun. After a great deal of effort and freezing coldness, along with some help from a friendly plumber, we got into the car with a minimum of damage, and made our happy way to the game.
Purgatory was fantastastic, as expected. V & I put on a fantastic version of the Christmas Carrol at the very beginning of the night which had everyone splitting their sides laughing. The evening progressed to be interesting, busy and fun for just about everyone.
Saturday I spent with Mary, cleaning up the living room and just hanging out. Saturday night was Crown of Thorns, the Arthurian game, and I was quite pumped to go. I had some inkling that some of my evil plans are coming unravelled, and I was looking forward to seing how things would work. Again there was a hilarious play put on at the begining of the night, this one a satire and mockery of the knights and kings of Arthurs court. After the play, the game itself got going. I had a quiet while, just talking and thinking and generally being quietly evil, when my body decided to betray me, luckily Mary was spending the night with Ians cousins.
You see, my body apparantly decided that what my weekend was missing was a miscarrige and several hours in the hospital. I stood up at one point in the night, and felt and heard a splash on the floor between my feet, along with a decided wetness along the insides of my thighs. I quietly and calmly made my way through the darkened room to the bathroom, hoping that no one would notice the trail I was leaving. Ian quickly came and found me sitting on the toilet and crying. After I gathered my nerves together and Ian cleaned up the mess I had left behind, we headed off for the Royal Alexandra hospital.
We arrived at the hospital, checked in, and took our seats in the waiting room. The Royal Alex, for those of you who do not know, is not in the nicest part of town. It is an inner city hospital, and there tends to be a more unsavoury element that spends their time there. Anyways, we took a seat, tried not to stare at the bleeding snoring drunks, or at the poor 20 something man who had decided to walk from one end of the city to the other in -25 degree weather with only his running shoes. We learned later that his feet were frozen solid all the way to his ankles. He spend the 3 hours he was in the waiting room bawling like a baby, it was all I could do not to go over and mother the poor bastard.
We were short-listed to see a doctor, which meant that we only had to wait 5 hours in the waiting room. I am so glad that we pay for health care in this province, it certainly seems to help. Anyways, at about 2 am, I nearly went home to loose my baby somewhere comfortable, but the nurse convinced me to stay. When the doctor came, he ordered a tonne of blood tests, iv fluids, an internal exam, and eventually an ultrasound. By time he decided on the ultrasound, it was 4 in the morning, so he told us to stay, as the U/S would be booked for "first thing in the morning." Early morning, mid morning, and late morning passed, and I was finally taken to have the u/s done at noon.
The ultrasound was surprising. There was a baby in there, alive and kicking, little heart pumping. The placenta is where it ought to be, the baby looks fine, if a little stressed. The problem is that there was a great deal of bleeding inside of the baby's sack, which is why I am still bleeding. When I was finally discharged, the doctor told me that I am experiencing a "threatened miscarriage." Basically, things could get better, or they could get worse and I could loose the baby. No one knows which way it will go, no one can change the outcome.
So, we wait, and we hope for the best while trying to prepare ourselves for the worst. The doctor told me that there is no reason why I can't continue to do what I do in day to day life, though he did suggest I take it easy for the next few days. If this is a miscarriage it will happen whether I am lying down or standing up. It's almost worse now, by time I went up for the u/s I had resigned myself to the fact that I'd lost the baby, but now I've seen it. If this is a miscarriage, it will be so much harder now that I've actually seen a living baby in my belly.