A few home truths...a little too close to home

During my hospital stay I was reminded a few times that what had happened to me, doesn't happen very often. I was struggling to move around by myself after the laparotomy. A nurse commented one day and said, "come on love.Its day 2 you should be moving by now" my response was sobbing on the edge of the bed. She continued "Got to love keyhole surgery" I saw red and lifted up my nightie. I showed her the bandage covering my staples from my belly button to well below my pubic bone and said "how many keys do you have that are this big?" She was truly shocked, she had read ectopic pregnancy on my file and had "assumed" I had been diagnosed early, possibly treated with methotrexate and come in to have the embryo removed through keyhole surgery.
It was interesting seeing the looks on the nurses faces when I explained I had received 8 units of blood during the whole ordeal.Which equated to a full blood transfusion. One nurse said to me," wow..so not one blood cell in your body is yours!"  This opened up a whole other can of worms with my recovery. I struggled with that little chestnut for weeks.

I remember flying in to Darwin on the careflight helicopter and the paramedic saying to me we had just landed and the paparazzi were waiting. I obviously had a confused look on my face because she explained. "Jane this doesn't happen very often anymore, a lot of people are going to want to look at you okay?" She was right. That room was chockers. I remember looking into each of their eyes and begging to be put under. "put me under, please put me under"

During my recovery I kept hearing the same word over and over and over. "Lucky" Which got me thinking, has anyone like me died from this?  Why was it such a circus in that theatre? Why did everyone want to have a look at me? Is what happened to me that rare? Was I truly lucky? I didn't feel lucky. I had sore breasts, I was swollen all over from all the fluids pumped into me, I had a scar bigger than my c section scar and no baby. Everyone around me was just so happy that I was alive that noone grieved the loss for my baby. I couldn't draw in a breath without my chest aching,my throat hurting my lip trembling and my eyes watering. No...I didn't feel lucky at all. Then I found it. An article on the internet about the Campbell Family.This is a photo of them.

Veronica Campbell, 38, died in December 2008,from an ectopic rupture. The article I found this in stated,

 "Her condition, in which an embryo develops outside the womb, is no longer considered life threatening in Australia, but Ms Campbell was caught in a small hospital without the facilities to deal with the emergency. "

"Ms Campbell, had been bleeding heavily and allegedly waited up to 4 hours to be transported from Cobram hospital to a larger facility in Shepparton, 60 kilometres away, where she could have had life saving surgery in the maternity ward."

There is no mention of how many weeks pregnant she was at the time of the rupture, and I'm interested to know if Veronica ever got to have a dating scan. I understand there is no maternity ward at the local hospital, I wonder if there is an ultrasound facility?

I was of the opinion that I had been treated unprofessionally and negligently by my local government health facility. But this family has suffered the most severe case of negligence. I look at this photo and I see my little family.  I'm proud of Mr Campbell, refusing to let anyone brush it under the carpet. I don't know how he does it. I admire his determination to stand up and fight when a lot of people would just lay down.

It scares me that women still die in Australia from ectopic rupture. It had been the first death like this in 5 years in Australia.

In the last few months since my operation I have struggled with anxiety, post traumatic stress and been in limbo with a big black cloud called depression just hovering over my shoulders.Waiting for me to claim it, name it, face it and own it and I refuse to.

I understand the lucky part now. I get it.

Repeat after me.

I am safe, I am healthy, I am alive.

Think pink,

Janey