My other (even more) gripe about this place is the obstetrical care I've received here. I've heard other horror stories about this place. I wont deluge, but will tell of my own. My son is what they refer to as a 'Battalion Baby'. That is to say when the service member gets home from the 7month deployment, the happy couple celebrate... well? how shall I say? magic happens. You know, the camouflaged stork makes a visit. OK, I got knocked up!! (YOU go 7 months without sex and then you can judge me) I was really lucky in that I was actually 10 days overdue in my birth. Military people can be catty. When they hear your due date, they count back the months to deployment (or even marriage date). Many of them have horrible self esteem and love to judge. Although I have a soft spot for most military families, this I think is just trashy.
Again I digress (reoccurring theme right?) Back to that OB/GYN clinic, Unless you got problems like preeclampsia or diabetes, you see which ever doctor is there. It's all basically courtesy visit. Take you blood pressure, temp, weight, grab you nipple and pull it out a half foot. You know the drill. Basically about as inhumane as you can treat somebody. A month before I was due, I asked baby faced Dr. Howser (real named Dr. Bayer) about their epidural class that they had. My husband was working nights and it was hard for me to drive an hour (each way) if it wasn't really necessary. He told me that it was a class that explained more about the epidural, but wasn't any big deal. Sounded OK with me then. When I was 10days overdue I saw Dr. Venus (who bore a striking resemblance to a friend of ours who also looked like Mr. Spock). Dr. Venus said that he noticed I had taken the epidural class and was I planing on natural childbirth. Can we say 'hell to the no??'. Apparently the AF had changed regulations 10 days earlier and all women enduring childbirth must attend a epidural class. He then stuck his hand up me and started 'stripping my membranes' to induce me and scheduled an induction on Monday. (this was Thursday).
We got on the phone to talk to the anesthesia dept and explained the situation. They were not at all accommodating. They informed me that if I had to have a c-section they'd do an epidural, but that would be the only way. They refused any kind of emergency meeting to do then, they were following regulations. That epidural would have came in handy on Friday. Having the membranes stripped caused my waters to trickle slightly. Since I didn't know this was done (I just thought he had large hands) I didn't know what was going on. I stayed up all night with light contractions which started getting worse. We went in on Friday morning. After contractions got worse, they gave me some drug which didn't help the pain, but made me groggy as hell. It also slowed down my contractions. Since my waters had been broken, they needed to induce me (Pitocin). They also had a bag of water with a tube inside of me (to equalize all the water that was flowing up (thus protecting the baby). What does all this mean? It means I laid in a cold wet bed for 8 hours screaming in pain, falling asleep, screaming in pain, falling asleep. My nurse was a disgusting bitch who was more interested in the 15 yo rerun of little house on the prairie than my problems. I found it funny that they thought the TV being played was for my benefit. In fact, it was so that they would not get to bored. I told them that it was irritating me, but they would not listen. The staff here is filled with immature twits who according to my husband liked to mimic their patients screams. I guess I got pretty aggravating at one point, as Dr. Venus yelled at me to "Shut up!". This was while he was 'fisting' me with his 'Andre The Giant' sized hands. He left his shift, which was about a half hour before my son was born. That's right, a lady came up and said, "Hi, I'm Dr. Curry". I cant tell you what kind of doctor she is as my son was delivered a half hour later. A half hour in which everybody and their aunt Sally felt permission to just walk into the room and stare at my crotch. I'm no prude, in fact, my nickname in high school was 'moonbeam' (you figure it out). In the same breath, I'm not the type to just 'let it all hang out'. I don't think a little bit of propriety is out of line. I just cant stress enough how immature, uncaring and downright rude this staff was to me. I don't think they should have killed Osama Bin Ladin. They should have brought him here for the care. Although that would probably be against the Geneva Convention. read more