The Inauguration Day Ordeal.

As I mentioned in my last post, the first specialist appointment I was able to secure was for January 20th 2017, which was the day that DJT was inaugurated as our 45th president.

As it was, my fiancee was scheduled to be out of town on business for this appointment, so my awesome mom, who lives two hours away, came down to NYC to stay with me and attend my appointment with me.

On Thursday, the evening before, we made a party out of it. My amazing sister, who is local, joined my mom and I and we had a nice dinner out in my neighborhood, then settled in to my apartment for the evening.

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Here’s my mom and sister cuddling with my dog the night before my appointment.

 

For the entire week, I had been alone with just my dog in the apartment since my partner was away, so it was really wonderful to have some company. My nerves were super high with tension from the upcoming appointment, as well as the inauguration. I had been in substantial pain and was so eager to finally see a specialist.

At this point, I had already gone back to my local emergency room once more since my last entry. I was in excruciating pain one day and was honestly worried that my uterus was somehow getting worse. At the hospital that day, the doctor diagnosed me with another UTI and sent me home with some Tramadol as well as another antibiotic. This was days before Christmas, and I didn’t even get a bed at the emergency room. It was a horrible experience and I truly felt like I was ignored by hospital staff. I was drained and completely ready for my inauguration day specialist appointment to finally happen.

On the morning of 1/20, I decided to wear my Nasty Woman shirt (as I did to Planned Parenthood last time) to a.) protest the inauguration in my own way and b.) celebrate the fact that I was finally seeing a specialist to take control of my pelvic health.

My mother accompanied me to the appointment. When I walked in, I first noticed that the inauguration was playing in the waiting room. This riled me up a little on the inside as I had promised myself I wouldn’t consume it, but quickly walked over to the receptionist to check in and hopefully get seen as soon as I could.

Low and behold, the woman at the counter informed me that the doctor did not accept my insurance and that I wouldn’t be able to be seen. I was in complete shock. I literally had been calling the office weekly to see if I could get seen quicker, and had gone over my insurance multiple times. To be let down when I was so incredibly eager was one of the most frustrating moments I’ve ever dealt with. My mother even offered to pay out of pocket since we were all looking forward to seeing the doctor, but they refused since I am otherwise insured. Even now I don’t understand where the miscommunication was, but suffice to say I left the office hysterically crying.

My mom and I went out to the car where I tried to plan my next move. I decided at this point that I was done with this particular hospital – it was the same one that I had visited the ER twice (both of which were negative experiences) and then to be refused service – I was done. We called my father, who has medical world connections, and he advised us to go to the NYU Langone emergency room, as he had coworkers associated with them, and heard great things. That’s when I realized that my appointment with the other specialist – the one who couldn’t see me until March – was an NYU Langone doctor. I decided that we would go to that ER.

At NYU Langone, I was immediately admitted and brought into a wonderful emergency facility. I was greeted by two doctors and two nurses, all of which informed me they would do whatever they needed for me. This ER facility doesn’t have an actual hospital attached – the main branches of the hospital are in Manhattan, and this was simply an emergency room. I learned that if I needed to be admitted, they would ambulette me to the proper hospital.

I explained my situation to the doctors, I let them know that I had been in constant pain for months at this point and that I kept having negative experiences at the other hospital. Right away they began testing on me, and decided I had another UTI.

Next they brought me for another internal ultrasound. At first I planned to go in without my mother, since it’s an invasive procedure, but when I went in, I saw that the technician was a very large, bouncer-esque guy, and I was nervous so I called my mom in to hold my hand. To my surprise, this technician was super gentle and didn’t put me in any additional pain! It was as pleasant of an experience an internal ultrasound could possibly be.

Finally, I was discharged after a few hours at the facility. They basically decided that I needed to see one of their specialists right away, and set me up with a patient concierge to find me the next available obgyn specialist for the coming days. That alone was worth the whole ordeal as I finally felt like I was being taken care of, and that my health mattered.

That night, my mom stayed over one more night since we had such a long day. I decided not to pick up my UTI antibiotic because I had a weird feeling about it. Otherwise, I went to bed that night feeling positive and ready to partake in the Women’s March NYC the following afternoon.

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Here I am, the afternoon following my crazy inauguration day ordeal, holding my sign at the Women’s March in NYC. 

 

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