Cyst-emic Failures

(My fairly well-known gynecologist office that employs multiple doctors had been great for me… until this all happened last spring. My husband and I went in for a check-up (on his birthday nonetheless) to find that I am having a first trimester miscarriage. Ensue a month of failure. Doctor #1 is male.)

Doctor #1: “So sorry about your loss. You have two options; we can remove it or you can pass it naturally.”

Me: “What can I expect passing it naturally?”

Doctor #1: “Some mild to heavy cramping up to a week; we want you to come back in if nothing happens after a week.”

Me: *having experienced heavy cramping before and tired of having probes stuck inside of me* “I’ll just pass it naturally.”

Doctor #1: “All right. Now, about this cyst on your right ovary—”

Me & Husband: “What cyst?!”

Doctor #1: *looks taken back* “You saw [Doctor #2] last month, yes?”

Me: “Yes, but she didn’t say anything about a cyst!”

(So we schedule for the cyst removal surgery with Doctor #1 at the end of the month. Figuring if I’m only going to experience heavy cramping, then I can still work, I resume my job the next day.)

Me: “Hey, I’m a bit of a complainer, so don’t mind me if I start rambling over here.”

Coworker: “Totally understandable. You’re fine.”

(Ten minutes later.)

Me: *starts to get some intense cramping* “Ugh, should’ve knocked on wood!”

(Over the next twenty minutes, I experience THE most horrific pain I have ever felt in my life. It was so bad I was in tears and had my husband take me to the ER, where I promptly got sick. They had me lie in a bed over the next six hours on pain meds that at least made the pain more bearable. The pain, by the way, began to come in contraction-like waves exactly five minutes apart. Late the next day, I pass the miscarriage, and then make a follow-up appointment with the office. I’m experiencing some tenderness and am feeling rather emotional over everything. Yet another probe goes into me and they suggest I have a procedure to “clean out” everything, which worsens my emotional state.)

Nurse: “The doctor has to approve you for the procedure, but she’s in.”

(So I cancel my much needed therapy appointment and drive to the office. I’m charged a co-pay, but am not in the mindset to ask why I am paying, since my insurance covers co-pays. I sit mutely and wait a bit until I’m called back.)

Nurse: “All right, if you can stand on the scale.”

Me: “Why? I’m here to see the doctor to get approved for the procedure. I literally just came from the other office.”

Nurse: “Oh, well, so the placenta didn’t come out?”

Me: “I… guess not?”

Nurse: “But the baby was delivered fine.”

Me: *thinking that’s an odd choice of words* “I… uh, delivered last night?”

Nurse: *looks at me as if I’ve grown a third head* “Well, who’s watching over the baby?”

Me: *shocked* “I had a miscarriage!”

Nurse: “OH!” *mumbles* “The doctor will see you shortly.” *beelines it out of the room*

(I’m rather upset that they wouldn’t have this whole business in my own paperwork when none other but Doctor #2 comes in.)

Doctor #2: “Oh, hello. Sorry about your loss. And about the cyst. They told me you didn’t know. I must’ve forgotten to write it in.” *looks at her clipboard* “You’re fine. Sorry about your loss again.” *leaves*

(I am flabbergasted at not only paying for mishandled paperwork but also for the doctor to say two words that she could have said over the phone. The procedure goes smoothly. Fast forward to the end of the month, where I’m checked in for the cyst removal surgery. The surgeon assistant comes up with some paperwork for me to sign and begins to read off what will be done.)

Surgeon Assistant: “We’ll be removing the cyst on the right ovary and check the left for a possible cyst—”

Me & Husband: “WHAT?”

Surgeon Assistant: *awkwardly* “Oh, he didn’t tell you… Uh, yes, there might be one on the left ovary. How about you speak with him before you sign?”

Husband: “YES, thank you.”

(After he leaves, my husband begins cursing out the entire medical office and their blunders while I’m trying to wonder how in the world they can have such grievous miscommunication. Cue waiting for a very long time, to the point where the surgeon assistants walk past our little room several times, occasionally checking to see if Doctor #1 has spoken with us yet. Eventually Doctor #1 comes in, says that while they didn’t see anything from the probes, he just wants to make sure. Tired of this whole ordeal, I sign and into surgery we go, which thankfully is a success with one cyst removal. A week later, I’m in the gynecologist office for the follow-up appointment and the icing on the cake.)

Doctor #1: *leans forward, looking excited* “So do you want to see the cyst?”

Me: “NO.”

Doctor #1: *looks very disappointed*

(SERIOUSLY?! Needless to say, I haven’t been back.)