I think that in many cases, if you have a chronic illness, you have called BS on a doctor. Here we are putting our lives in their hands, but no one knows our bodies like we do. After all we are the only ones living in it.
When I was first diagnosed, I was right around 16 weeks pregnant. My OB was on edge. My high risk doc was watching me very closely. But it was my GI, the Dr who diagnosed me, who was running the show. At this time, I wasn't even at the transplant clinic. Add in my primary doc and you get a whole mess of communication and opinions.
When you have 4 different people telling you their ideas and no two are the same, its hard to figure out what to do. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. There is no Liver Disease for dummies book. Or is there? I recall sitting there on the exam table while my GI went over the possibilities. He had never had a case like mine. Nor had any one he knew. He wanted to run a contrast test on my, but my other doctors said not to. He found a place in Houston that would do it, but once they found out I was pregnant, they half backed out. But I was still on the fence. Isn't it important to do all I can do to make sure that I can be here for my baby? Was the risk worth the benefit? Finally he dropped it and said we would do it after delivery. Then he went on.
"Babies have been born at 28 weeks and survived." Was he really siting here telling me that I should deliver my son this early? On purpose? Put him at risk for infection and so much more. Death even. I looked him straight in the eye and told him that yes maybe some do, but not mine. He reminded me of the great team I had backing me up. And reminded me that I needed to make sure that I made the right choice because I still had another little boy at home counting on me. But it was never a doubt in my mind. There was no way. I remember saying to David "He says I can deliver at 28 week! Bull S#!t". I was going to keep that baby inside of me, safe and growing for as long as he would stay there.
My OBs agreed that as long as my health stayed stable we would do everything we needed to do to keep him safe in there. Twice a week I had stress tests. Twice a week I had ultrasounds. I had nurses calling to check on me. At 35 weeks I had an amnio to check for lung maturity. Failed. The second time around, at 37 week, we got the OK for delivery. And at 38 weeks, my beautiful and perfect little man was born. He was healthy. I was healthy. All was good in the world.
I will never take back my decision to go against a doctors opinion. I said he wouldn't be ready and even at 35 weeks he wasn't. And he wanted me to deliver weeks before that! I would have never been able to forgive myself for delivering so early and something happening. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut....heart...uterus...whatever it may be. Make your voice heard too. Yes they are here to help us but we need to help ourselves too!
Have you ever had to call BS on a doctor?
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