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Showing posts with label care flight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label care flight. Show all posts

Sunday, 29 April 2012

What to do in the face of negligence?

The chance of dying from an ectopic pregnancy in Australia is pretty rare these days. We are so privileged to have access to the latest and greatest of trans vaginal ultrasound technology and blood screening. When I say we I mean "the majority" of Australians.
In my case I lived in a remote aboriginal community with limited facilities. The Australian government funds the local "health facility" which on a good day has 2 doctors, a handful of nurses,a child health nurse, a midwife and whatever specialist has flown out for the day.( dentist, gynaecologist, oncologist,psychologist etc)and a couple of students thrown in for good measure.These are the days when its great to be sick because everyone is so busy running around like a headless chook you are lucky if you  get to make eye contact with anyone.
On a bad day, you will have to press a button on the side of the building that goes to message bank and you have no choice but to leave a message and sit and wait. Usually when everyone has gone on leave or a convention at the same time or the odd cruise ship which has been known to happen.

On the evening I collapsed from the ectopic rupture, it was approximately 7 o'clock and the sun hadn't quite set. My son was sitting down to his dinner in front of the television and I was laying on my bed, buckled up in pain begging my husband to get me help.
We lived in the same street as most of the full time health workers. Our immediate neighbours were an old couple, one of them had worked for my husband and the other was the 2IC nurse at the health facility. We had socialised with them a couple of times during our contract. My husband ran next door and rapped on their door. No answer. He could hear them talking so he knocked again and called their names. No answer. He rang his mobile number and left a message. He was on his way to press the button when to his surprise the old man phoned back. In my husbands desperation he asked to speak with his wife, the nurse. She came to the door, he told her that I was pregnant and had collapsed in pain, he was scared and didn't know what to do. She looked at him and said" I'm not on call tonight, you'll need to see the nurse on call." and turned away.

What felt like a lifetime later he came back.The nurse that came was the nurse that had been there during my initial scan. The scan that I received because I had complained of localised pain shooting down my right side. The scan where I was told that there was a 5 week 3 day old foetus in my uterus. The first thing she asked me was if  I was experiencing any blood loss. I hadn't. I will never forget the look on her face as she "treated" me. She looked at me as if i was over dramatising a simple miscarriage. She told my husband to get me a hot water bottle and said I looked a little pale. When she asked me if i could walk over to the clinic I told her that I felt as though my bowel was about to explode. My husband returned with a hot water bottle and put it where she told him to and I started to feel very ill. She walked out of the room to call the doctor.

The doctor arrived shortly after and arranged my transport to the health clinic via the ambulance. When I say ambulance I mean a landcruiser troop carrier with a broken stretcher that nobody knew how to use.When i was dragged into the emergency room I heard the doctor tell my husband that she believed it was an ectopic pregnancy. I was shocked, "but the midwife saw the baby, in my uterus,she saw it on the ultrasound." To which the doctor responded "that machine is 20 years old, I wouldn't trust it to see anything." The nurse who had sat by my side while the midwife had done the scan and had helped her take my blood was frantically trying to get a blood pressure reading on me, I waited for her to say something but she didn't.

Looking back I realise that there were a few things wrong with the whole equation.

  • Why was I not suspected for ectopic pregnancy when I had showed at the clinic with abdominal pain down my right side?
  • The clinic is not equipped with a trans vaginal ultrasound, so an abdominal ultrasound was used. The midwife admitted to me she did not know how to use the function to date the foetus properly.
  • I was not screened to rule out the possibility of ectopic pregnancy.
  • I was not told that the abdominal ultrasound is not accurate enough to rule out early complications, why wasn't i advised to see a doctor on the mainland as soon as possible?
  • The nurse that was in the room when I had my initial scan meant that she was not immediately suspecting an ectopic pregnancy when she saw me on the night I ruptured, which delayed critical treatment time.
The surgeon that saved my life would not discharge me from hospital in the event that I went back home. She had no confidence in the treatment that I had received. At the time I was just happy to be alive. I was healing really well, I had my mum with me for support. I was grateful that I had survived an emergency that given the chance I had lived in another country I would have died. When I was ready, I went back to the community.

Whilst I had been in hospital my husband had been confronted by our friendly neighbour, the nurse who wasn't on call when his wife was dying. She had tried to tell him in a round about way that the clinic had nothing to do with what had happened to me, and that these things happen all the time. She suspected that I had obviously been having twins. That was the only explanation. My husband had already been told by me that the HCG levels in my blood were not high enough to warrant twins. He wasn't very obliging when she was trying to convince him of this. He got mad and in turn she told everyone in the health facility that no one was to communicate with us.

So on my arrival back to the community, not one of the health workers made any contact with me.Not even eye contact. They walked away from me in the street. Turned their heads when I walked past them. I was desperate to work out why when the nurse who had treated me on the night it happened came to my house and explained everything.

She had been told by management to have no contact with myself or my husband. The only contact i knew of was between my surgeon and the midwife who scanned me. My surgeon told me what the midwife had said to her."She said she had done the best she could with what she had at the time."

Interestingly enough though the clinic had an obstetrician come out and look at the ultrasound machine. She had told the staff that the machine is in good working order, it isn't really useful as a diagnostic tool or dating scanner because it doesn't pick up any details until 8 weeks gestation.
When the nurse told me this, I was speechless. This machine had been used as a diagnostic tool and it had been used as a dating scanner even though the midwife told me she wasn't able to use that function. I explained to the nurse that it really isn't good enough considering it isn't accurate enough until 8 weeks gestation and I ruptured at 7 weeks and 2 days. Most women rupture between weeks 7 and 8.

All three obstetricians I saw during my stay said that I would be able to get pregnant again, "but please don't get pregnant in an aboriginal community again."

Now that I have spent time researching ectopic pregnancies I have realised just how scary that statement is. Aboriginal women are at a higher risk of ectopic pregnancy than non indigenous Australians, due to the higher percentage of chlamydia, smoking and health problems within these communities. If the government is going to fund outback midwifery to be responsible for these pregnant women living in remote Australia then they should either be equipped with the appropriate resources or be able to guide the individual to the place where they can be treated as such.

The health workers continued to hide from me until I packed up and moved away, but my husband still works there in order to pay for the house I live in so that I can get better mentally. He is still treated with hostility to this day. I was grateful to be alive, but now im angry and bitter that they could treat me and my family this way because they cant face the fact they were negligent. They are just waiting to be investigated and to see if i take it any further. I havent at this stage. I just want to be me again. But every so often i think about what I have lost, and how close my family came to losing me and I get wild. I havent gone back to work, I still dont sleep properly, I still suffer from pain and for the first time in a long time I am stressed about money.

Money.....something the clinic is smothered in. They are drowning in it. I was getting sick of hearing about how much they get paid for call outs and there clicky little network. Their snide little comments about the locals and there pathetic example of a "health clinic" The icing on the cake was the award they received for"nursing and midwifery excellence." WHAT?? HOW?? WHERE?? on the cruise ship??

If remote health clinics are going to staff midwives to work with women in early pregnancy then they need to have the proper equipment for diagnosing ectopic pregnancy.In this instance a top of the range trans vaginal ultrasound would set the clinic back around $20,000. including training the midwife to use it. I hate to think what it cost to save me, with the careflight helicopter, the 3 surgical teams on call waiting for me to arrive, the 4 hour surgery, the medications and the aftercare. It would be costing the government more than that in maintenance fees to mow their lawn every month.

Something inside of me is telling me to face them and make them own up to their negligence. This has affected every aspect of my life and someone needs to acknowledge it. A simple "Im sorry Jane, we should have told you to go to another doctor sooner. We are so happy to see you are alive though" would have been sufficient. But now...I have a sneaking suspicion it may take more than just an apology.....




What do you think? Should I be content with being alive and leave it at that? or should I pursue this in court and make them answerable to their actions or lack there of? Im interested to hear it because Im struggling to to work out the right thing to do?






















Thursday, 19 April 2012

Where it began.

On the 12th of November, 2011 at three o'clock in the morning I regain consciousness in a hospital bed. Everything is blurry, I hear a friendly voice but moments later it all goes black again. I hear my name being called, I open my eyes to see an angel at the foot of my bed. She has a grey bob and glasses. She looks exhausted and somewhat angry. She tells me her name and says "You scared me Jane and I don't scare easily. You lost a lot of blood and needed a full transfusion.Ive contacted your husband and told him you are in recovery"
The logical part of my brain that was still able to function under copious amounts of morphine asked, "Is the baby okay?"

Living on a small island off the north coast of Australia has its limitations. Only two weeks earlier I had been to the health clinic to have my first scan. I had been experiencing pain down my right side. It wasn't constant, so it seemed to be of no concern. I hear the familiar fart sound as the cold gel is spurted on my abdomen. I look to the ceiling feeling that all too familiar pang of pain in my bladder.Just hoping I don't piss myself on the table when i hear " oh there it is.Right there.Yep it looks about 5 and a half weeks. Does that sound about right to you Jane? Can you see that there? I can even make out a little heart beat."

I could not see a thing. But then again, I'm not a health professional. So with a sigh of relief I wipe the gel off and get up off the table. I walked home, eager to tell my husband that our four year old son was wrong! We were not expecting twins!

The baby was not okay. The baby was taken out, along with my right fallopian tube. I had experienced an ectopic rupture.A laparotomy.  I was left empty, with staples from my belly button down to an inch above my lady bits. Lost in the confusion, alone and petrified.

My bum began to itch and suddenly I remembered. It had only been a few hours since I had said good bye to my husband, on the bitumen runway at the tiny airport on the island. With my Lily white ass hanging out the back of the gown they had put me in, prepped for surgery and being eaten alive by sand flies. I was not allowed to move my arms. My husband kneels down behind me and rubs my bum for me. I had said goodbye and I love you for what felt like the last time. I asked him to remind our son of who I am. "don't let him forget me."  The expression on his face when I said this was "Jane, your such a drama queen" but laying there on the tarmac while a paramedic and a doctor manually pumped two units of blood into my collapsed veins, while trying to register a blood pressure so that I could fly made it pretty clear to him and me, I was dying.

As fate had it there was only room for one on the helicopter.Which meant the agony of choosing between coming with me or staying with my son was taken out of the equation. I thanked God. Its only happened 4 times in my 32 years of life. I thanked God when my son survived his birth, I thanked god when my mother pulled through a very late diagnosis of pneumonia sepsis I thanked God when my plane landed after some air turbulence had convinced me i was plummeting to my death and I thanked God that my husband didn't have to watch me die.

I don't know how many times in passing Ive heard that we soil ourselves just before we die and thought nothing of it. I was laying still, arms wide apart like I was being crucified and humming in tune with the sound of the careflight helicopter, consumed by the excruciating pain and an overwhelming sense of pissed offness that i hadn't got life insurance when suddenly it happened and there was nothing i could do, but cry. The interesting thing was I didn't panic, your brain needs blood to panic and there wasn't enough of that going around.

It is scary, when the surgeon who has just saved your life looks you in the eye and says, "some people would say, it just wasn't your time"

It wasn't my time, I just wish it hadn't been such a fine line though.

This is my journey. I don't always move forward, sometimes i move backwards.But I'm learning that that is okay. Its all part of the healing. The panic attacks, the nightmares, the fears, the anxiety, the irrational thoughts and the constant wishing I was the person I was before this happened to me. Before my world was shattered.

I still have a lot of questions and I wont stop looking for answers. This should never have happened the way that it did. Ive worked out why, now I just have to work out how to change it.

 Ectopic pregnancies happen in 1 of every 100 pregnancies in Australia alone. Women are still dying from ectopic ruptures, in Australia. This doesn't need to happen at all anymore. The sad thing is, most women wont  be educated on ectopic pregnancy until they experience one themselves and that I am truly sorry for. If an ectopic pregnancy diagnosis, treatment or rupture has led you here please share with me your stories so that we can educate other women. I wish you peace, love and healing. You are not alone, you are safe.

Think pink.

Janey