(I am in labor at the hospital. My midwife comes in to check how it is going and to feel the baby’s position for delivery. After feeling my belly she says:)

Midwife: “I cannot find the baby.”

Me: “Well, I am pretty sure that he didn’t come out yet, so he must be somewhere inside.”

I come into the hospital, 39 weeks pregnant with a single baby, due to a sudden headache, high blood pressure, and vomiting. It’s determined I’ve developed severe preeclampsia and need to be induced today.

Just about three hours after being admitted, the baby has moved for the fourth time, making it difficult to accurately monitor her heart rate. The doctor decides to have a monitor placed in utero on the baby to get a consistent reading.

The nurses tasked with placing the monitor are gathered at my legs, talking amongst themselves, prepping for the procedure. I’m foggy from the medicine and not really paying attention when a nurse says, “Oh, there’s two.” After having a minor panic attack, I catch the nurse’s attention and it turns out they had two of the monitors, but after talking about irregular heartbeats I thought somehow a second baby had shown up.

I was told by a previous doctor I had polycystic ovary syndrome. My period has always been irregular and I have often had hemorrhages for the last three years. I have not seen a gynecologist in over six years because of a bad experience with the last one, but I make an appointment with a different one to get it checked out. To make the story short, things go okay at my appointment, but for some reason my left ovary is nowhere in sight on the sonogram, so I have to get an MRI scan. When I call to make the appointment, I get asked why the doctor wants me to take an MRI scan. I tell the secretary I have irregular periods and the doctor could not find my left ovary on a sonogram. She tells me that I can’t be on my period for the scan, so she asks when my next is period due so she can put me in when I am not on my period. I tell her again that my period is irregular and I have no idea when the next will come. She stares at me for a few seconds, and then asks me when the last one was and asks me how long my cycle usually lasts. I know the date, but I tell her that it can be somewhere between 28 to 120 days.  

A few second of blank stares later, she finally gives me an appointment and tells me yet again that I can’t be on my period for the scan.

How can a woman not understand what “irregular period” means?

(I am a valet cashier at one of the larger hospitals in the cities. I see and hear about all types of things that would make one concerned, but this was the most recent.)

Customer: *has an obviously difficult time producing her valet ticket and manages to hand it over after a few minutes*

Me: “Okay, ma’am, your total is [total].”

Customer: *groans as she has difficulty finding her wallet* “They dilated both of my eyes and I can’t see a d*** thing.”

Me: “…”

(She was alone and I worried all day about her getting home. I hadn’t heard anything on the news so I hope she’s okay.)

(I get a strange painful lump that shows up while I’m pregnant. The doctor tells me not to worry and that it will go away after birth. Six months postpartum, I go to get it checked out again. The doctor tells me to give it more time to heal. Eight months postpartum, I go to a GP to get it checked out, because I’m still in pain and tired of being blown off. I’m quickly diagnosed with a hernia. As I’m getting ready for surgery:)

Me: “I wish my doctor had just told me he couldn’t do anything and told me to go see someone else.”

Nurse: “Well, that would have meant having to put aside his ego; doctors don’t like to do that.”