What's the Diagnosis?

When I got my six week clearance after giving birth, we were both more than ready to get on a plane and escape as quickly as we could. We almost immediately purchased tickets to Miami and were booked to leave the Friday morning. That Thursday, I had a busy day ahead of me with running last minute errands prior to leaving the next day. Leaving my packing to the day before a trip is certainly not unheard of for me, but I thought that I would be in the clear with a full free afternoon and night to get it done. Turns out I was wrong. That morning I woke up to slight pains in my lower right abdomen. I first feared – am I really about to get my first postpartum period right before going on this much needed trip? But the pains were different than that, and got more severe as the morning went on. As the pain worsened, I figured I might be able to take a couple of extra strength Tylenols to help, but it did not make a difference. Periodically I would feel a little bit of a break from the pain, but then it would come back with force. It felt like sharp pains that were so intense that they would force me to keel over.

By the early afternoon, I was getting ready to leave the house to drive my dog downtown Toronto to drop off at a friend’s who would be watching him for the first couple of days that we were gone. I was feeling one of the lull periods so I figured it was safe to start my trek. As soon as I got on the highway, I was moaning out loud in pain. This wasn’t normal. I decided to call my doctor’s office while in the car to see if I could get in for a last minute appointment. They confirmed neither of my doctors were available, but if I wanted I could come in for their walk-in clinic opening at 5:00PM. Based on how I was feeling, I wasn’t sure I could actually wait that long.

By the time I got to my friends, I was pacing through her apartment while trying to find positions I could put myself in to make the pain bearable, but nothing was working. I sounded and looked like I was going through labour again. My friend happened to have a medication called Naproxen and suggested I take one to see if it would help. Though I was hesitant since it was a prescribed medication, I was desperate and took the pill – and thank god that I did, since this is what likely saved me over the next several hours of distress that I was about to endure. We decided it was probably best at this point if I made my way to the ER to figure out what was going on.

After checking in, I ended up sitting in that ER for a good 6.5/7 hours. So much for using the afternoon to pack. The Naproxen kicked in about an hour after I took it, which at least made the waiting experience slightly more comfortable – as comfortable as a downtown city ER can be. Sitting there waiting was horrible, to put it mildly. My mind was racing wondering if I was even going to be able to get on the plane the next day. While my anxiety was in overdrive, there was a plethora of distractions all around me. One woman was groaning in agonizing pain, one man was being monitored who appeared to be almost comatose intoxicated, the police made multiple appearances bringing in different patients who were under arrest, one of which who was screaming out cursing and agonizing over how his drug addiction had ruined his life. On top of all of that, there was a woman holding her newborn, crying baby right in front of me. It took everything in me not to get up and walk out before I received a diagnosis. Even though at this point the pain had subsided significantly, I thought it was necessary to wait it out and find out what the hell was going on with me, especially before leaving the country the next day.

I ended up meeting with a doctor who requested a blood test, urine test, and ultrasound. When I finally saw the doctor to get my results, there were no solid answers. My bloodwork showed no sign of infection and my ultrasound was normal. I couldn’t believe that I had just sat through hours of agony to only find out that there was no straight answer on what was happening to me. My doctor’s best guess was that this was either my first menstrual cycle coming back with a vengeance, or that I possibly had a kidney stone which would simply pass with time. He prescribed me with some Naproxen (ironically the same medication that I had taken from my friend earlier) and sent me on my way. The only saving grace at this point was that I was finally able to leave the hospital and that the pain had been significantly better for the past several hours.

Though exhausted, I gathered the little amount of energy that I had left that night to pick up my prescription, and finish my packing. Luckily, with the medication, the pain never returned the next day, or at all for that matter, and we were able to go on our trip. Surprisingly, my period never actually returned until several weeks after this all happened. With that being said, I still have NO idea what happened to me that day. I find it hard to believe that in today’s modern advanced world of healthcare, I could spend close to seven hours in an ER, get my blood taken, my urine tested, an ultrasound done, be seen by nurses and a doctor, and still not be provided with an answer on why I was in excruciating, debilitating pain that day. It again makes me question the importance that our society puts on people’s health in general, and more specifically; women’s health and reproductive health. As a reminder that we REALLY shouldn’t need; women’s health matters. Let’s do better – we need to do better!