Drama, Drama, Drama...

Warning: long, emotional story ahead!
I have been putting off blogging about this for a week now and decided today that I better just get it over with. Someday I may want to remember this although right now I would rather just forget this experience forever. That is something my scars just won't allow.
On Monday, January 19th I had my blood drawn for the 3rd time to confirm that I was having a miscarriage (which I already knew because of the massive amounts of blood and cramping). On my paperwork was written, "STAT-please FAX results ASAP". This was early Monday morning. I had to take the girls with me and they were so cute about it saying things like, "I don't want you to have your blood drawn."
Then the waiting began. I called twice on Monday-no one would give me the results.
I called twice on Tuesday and was given the reply, "the doctor hasn't signed off on them yet so I can't give you the results".
Wednesday-tried to call but their office is closed all day Wed.
Thursday-I am MAD and call twice before lunch and was promised a call back "in just a few minutes". NOTHING. Finally I called at 4:00 pm and demand that the doctor call me before he leaves for the day. By the time he called me at 4:45 I was in so much pain that I couldn't even talk on the phone. Thankfully Brett was here and was able to talk them and express our frustration. My levels had gone up-again.
1/9-1127 HCG Level
1/15-1864 HCG Level
1/19-up again (don't know what it was)
So, he tells me to go into the radiology place Friday morning to get an ultrasound and calls me in a prescription.
Friday morning I go in for the ultrasound. I drank the amount of water they want (which is a ridiculous amount) and then wait for 2 hours to get the ultrasound. I have never had to pee so bad in my entire life. I was almost in tears and had to walk back there all humped over. They tell me that the doctor will have the results in 2 hours.
I call the doc in 2 hours and they tell me they don't have them yet but will call when they get in.
I call two more times in the next four hours and am told the same thing.
FINALLY they call me at 4:30 and they tell me that the results showed the same thing as the first-empty uterus and a cyst on each ovary. I am in pain by now and I tell them that I am not going over the weekend feeling like this. They tell me to come in. 15 minutes prior to this I tell Brett, "They are not going to call-take the girls and go to Winco."
So, I go in and he checks me and says things like, "sure wish you would have had your blood drawn today so I could know what to do for you." I say things like, "well, if your office would have given my results from the one 4 days ago I would have probably demanded that you do another draw." He says, "this is an awkward situation because it is Friday night. I'm not sure what to do."
Then he tells me that he thinks the cyst on my right ovary could be the fetus attaching itself to my ovary. He tells me that he better do a scope that night and he will probably have to remove my ovary. He tells me to drive myself over to the hospital and he will meet me there.
I call Brett-I am a mess! He checks out at the grocery store and takes the girls over to Joy Rodriguez's (my lifesaver) then meets me at the hospital. I call Stef from the hospital totally upset swearing and telling her that if he has to remove my ovary it is because he has ignored me all week and I will sue him! I told her to get a hold of mom for me.
3 hours later the doc shows up. He is wheeling me into the surgery room and I am crying. He takes my hand and tells me, "don't worry-we are going to take good care of you". I tell him, " You better-because you have ignored me all week"!!!
The surgery took a lot longer than normal and when he was done he went out and told Brett that what they thought was a cyst was an ectopic pregnancy. They had to remove my right fallopian tube. I also have endometriosis really bad, lots of scar tissue from my c-section, my uterus had attached itself to my abdomin, and he thinks that my left fallopian tube doesn't even work. Then he told him the really bad news-he doesn't think we will ever be able to have more children.
So, that is what we have been dealing with (or not dealing with in my case) this week. My mom came down after the surgery-thank heavens. I don't know what we would have done. I am still (9 days later) very sore.
Emotionally and physically I am a mess. I will try to write more later.