Low Point

Yesterday was really the low point of this whole morning sickness fiasco. After calling in to work for the second day in a row, I spent the morning and early afternoon puking up anything and everything I tried to put into my body. Oatmeal, fresh pears, trail mix, saltines, water, ginger ale... even a peppermint candy I'd tried to suck on to ease my nausea made me end up with my head in the toilet. I was miserable. I even burst a couple of blood vessels in my right eye (no permanent damage, but painful nonetheless.) I didn't know what to do. All the tips for easing morning sickness I'd found online (or had been given by more experienced ladies) was not helping.

So Mark and I called the OB/GYN, who directed us to head to the emergency room. Which we did.

After being given a dose of Zofran (medication typically given to Chemo patients to help ease their nausea) and an IV with a liter of fluids (because, at that point, I was pretty dehydrated; I'll go into the awfulness of that procedure in a moment), I was diagnosed with Hyperemesis. Or: really, really bad morning sickness.

So now I'm on a special diet and have to take regular doses of Zofran, to keep the nausea at bay. I might even have to cut back my work schedule to part-time (no real complaint there), because one side effect of the medication is severe drowsiness and some dizziness.

Gee, thanks, Babby Williams. I can tell you love me already.

One good thing the doctor said, though, was that my level of morning sickness shows that my hormones are very active, which means my pregnancy is probably going really well so far. (Six weeks along! Woohoo!) So that's something, I guess.


Anyways, about the IV. It was my first ever, and I am no hero when it comes to needles. I don't liking having needles put in my body to put stuff in, and I hate it when they take stuff out. But I needed fluids, and I wanted to feel better (and not put the babby at further risk, obviously) so I was manning it up.

Until they put Mr-First-Day-With-A-Needle up to the task of inserting an IV into my small-and-even-further-shrunk-from-dehydration veins. Needless to say, his first attempt (my poor, right inner elbow) was not successful. He found the vein, but couldn't get anything to flow in. He missed the vein on my left arm, bruising it wonderfully. At this point, he gave up (thank goodness) and called in another nurse. She looked at my veins and called in another nurse, who called yet another nurse. Finally they found an appropriate vein on my right hand and (after almost having to fetch smelling salts, as I was 5/6ths passed out at this point) got things going.

May I also mention at this point that Mark, who is usually the one keeping me calm during anything involving needles, was not in the room at this point. The doctor had already sent him over to the pharmacy for my Zofran. He didn't return until an hour later (when my fluid bag was empty and I was waiting to have the IV removed), due to the line he'd encountered there. Geez.

So I made it through, and today - even though I did not feel 100% - I felt a lot better.

Hopefully I make it okay through work tomorrow.

And don't get yelled at for calling out. (I have a note from the doctor, though. So...yeah. If they yell at me, f*ck 'em. What are they going to do, fire me? Big whoop. I don't even care anymore.)