Friday, April 18, 2014

Kill Bill Vol. 2

Last Tuesday night, Mike and I found out that we're pregnant after a pregnancy test administered in St. Lukes. I called the office to check if we have maternity coverage under our HMO. If married, yes, they said. It was unexpected, but an accident that we would've accepted whole-heartedly. 5 minutes in the news, an ultrasound was done and they found out that it was an ectopic pregnancy and that it must be removed. Then they advised that maternity coverage of the HMO does not involve ectopic/abnormal pregnancies. It wasn't ruptured then and a laparoscpy was suggested ASAP, which as per St. Lukes will cost roughly 100-200k. We don't have that amount of money right now so we asked if its ok to get discharged and go to my actual OB. That 4 hours of tests costed 13k already. I sleeped that Tuesday night with the heaviest heart in between learning that we're pregnant, losing it yet again, questions about my womanhood and capacity to bear a child and the expenses that I have no idea how to shoulder. It was one of those death-rollercoaster types.

I woke up very early Wednesday morning and called my OB. She said she can meet me noon. I went to her clinic by myself as Mike had to go to his office first to apply for a salary loan to cover for the impending expenses. Upon check with Dr. Alcantara (my OB), she said that the supposed embryo has already ruptured and I need to undergo laparotomy, an open surgery to have the ruptured embryo removed and the bleeding siphoned ASAP, my right fallopian tube will be removed too. otherwise it's the risk of death. Recovery time is similar to Caesarian section, 2 months. I asked the probable cost and said it would be around 80k and we'd need 50k give or take prior admitting. She said we'll do it in the Paranaque Doctors Hospital where they have a blood bank, as there is a possibility I'd bleed profusely due to the procedure and would need transfusion. I met up with Mike who said his salary loan can only be approved and released the next week, since it is Lent. I advised my office about the dilemma. We're very grateful that Ms. Lesley and Tina advised that they can lend us part of the money needed. They sent kuyaChristoper to bring us 50k at the hospital.

Wednesday night, I was admitted to the OR. I was anasthetized, and in a few minutes I was out. Around 10 pm, the surgery was done. I spent about 3 hours in the recovery room before I was sent to the ward. My brothers were there, along with Mike, waiting for me, then I slept. Thursday was spent between crying, hurting, complaining, and just drinking water. I cannot eat solids yet. I'm back to being an infant, so helpless; minus the innocence.

It's Friday today and I'm still in the hospital. I still hurt. The area where the incision was done pains me like hell. Adding to the injury is the emotional toll, the financial worries. I apologize to everyone who are asking me how I was and I don't answer. I don't know how to answer, I start to cry when I do and I don't have the patience anymore to tell it separately. Tears fall from my eyes as I type this. I'm questioning everything I believed in and did not believe in. If this was some divine intervention of sorts or just reality that I must face. I've had a pretty good life. I had the education I need, a job that pays for the needs and then some, my family as weird as it is has always been functional. More than anything, I still stand by my ground on Reproductive Health. I could really use the clauses in the law right now. Maybe this will turn me more into a women's activist. Maybe this is a faith catalyst. Or maybe not.

I'm just thankful for the people who helped, who showed support, who gave the time to console and condole. I often thought that when people pray for you, you are helpless, I am often offended with that. But I am helpless right now. I feel so bad I'm running in my head ways to end things. But sure, pray for me if your faith and instinct tells you to do so; maybe it will help me, maybe it will help you. As Kurt Cobain put it, "thank you from the bottomless pit of my nauseous stomach". I'm 27 now, am I worthy of the 27 club?
I know this is a sad-borderline-morbid story and I shouldn't be thinking and writing what I am right now. I've always released my feelings best through writing and I thought this would be a great exercise for my sanity. Writing and re-reading my own thoughts give me an out-of-body experience of reading my own story and reflecting on it after I'm done. I am documenting this so I can stay sane

I'm tagging the people I want this shared with. Not everyone in my list are entitled to such knowledge and news. Feel free to share this with people who know me without malice, and would care about the story. Do not retell my tale differently...

PS. No more pregnancy jokes and when will you have a baby questions from now on. I fucking swear I'll punch in the face who will attempt to.

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