December 05, 2014

De ja Vu // Alternately Titled: TIA (This Is Africa)

Thanksgiving Day - November 25th, 2014
We pack up and hop in the car headed for Arusha, again.  It's not a holiday here, and it's been two weeks since our last appointment.  Have I mentioned how much I dislike going there?  The drive is so exhausting.  It's a good 2 hours on paved roads, but every 10 minutes you go through a village and have to slow down for a) massive speedbumps b)goats/cows/chickens crossing the road c)dala dalas (vans/busses) slowing and pulling over or pulling out in front of you d) people walking all over the road as if it's a sidewalk e)police checkpoints.  It's enough to drive anyone batty.

ANYWAY - this time, since there's no school, Owen has opted to hang out at some friends' house while we go to the appointment.  We drop him off, he practically shoo's us out the door and we continue our trek.
We arrive about 5 minutes late due to the chaos and the insane number of trucks going 30KPH (that's KPH, not MPH) with no way to pass them.  Head up to see the doc and she says (as she's looking through my file), "You took the HCG?!" I look at her curiously and say, "Yes, that was about 4 weeks ago, we're here to try and see the heartbeat."
"OH!  I thought you were a different patient, I'm sorry!"  she says.
"." Blank stare from me.
At this point my bladder is just short of bursting because it has to be 'full pressed' for best results on the ultrasound.  We finally head to the ultrasound room and she starts poking and prodding on my abdomen.  When she finally does locate the fetus she measures it, then proudly proclaims, "You're about 6 weeks!"
"Um.  That's what you told me two weeks ago when you measured it."
"Oh.  Ummmm"
More prodding.
"I'm sorry, I just can't see it very well.  I really think you're only 6 weeks and it's too early to see the heartbeat."
I go to the toilet then return to her office where she's flipping through my file. "I want you to get a second opinion."
Well, ya think?!?! Sheesh.
She writes a referal to Aga Khan clinic, the same place I had my CT for my stones, a great clinic with really good equipment. I call them and the receptionist says I need an appointment.  I tell her I have a referral from Dr. A and she says to come.
It's been forever since we were there, and we weren't the ones driving and I was writhing in pain, so I had no idea where it was.  The receptionist gave us directions, which clearly were not good because we spent one hour driving in a city with nearly the traffic equivalent to Tokyo (not exaggerating!), trying not to hurt anyone, crash into anyone, or get crashed into before we found it. 
We get there and go to the u/s department and are told we need an appointment.
I explained to him that I had a referral and the Dr. would like me seen today, especially because we live two hours away.
He said we need an appointment.  First available is Saturday.
Ugh. We make the appoitnment and start home again.
Completely and utterly frustrated at Tanzania.  I live here and I love this country but right at this moment I am so unhappy.  Every time we come here it's $20+ in petrol, $40-75 for the appointment. $60 every two weeks might not seem like a lot, but to a family of 3, becoming a family of 4 living off of support, it is.  God provides and we're thankful for that, but it's frustrating to spend all this money, drive all that time, utterly exhaust ourselves, and all for NO results.  Nearly. Every. Time.
We stop to pick up Owen and he tells us right away to go back to Arusha.  Guess he's been having fun. I sit on the couch, needing to be out of a car for a minute, and vent to my friend. She's extremely empathetic and encouraging and it's just what I needed. I resolve then and there to not put any stock at all in what the doctor says from this point out, but to just go with the flow and listen to my body.

That afternoon is the missionary community Thanksgiving.  We've decided to use this gathering to share our news, since about 1/4 of the community knows already and we felt like it was time.  As we're going around a room with about 50 people saying what we're thankful for, another family says, "We're thankful we get to return to America this summer..... to have #3."  Wow.  Totally wasn't expecting that.  Bill & I look at each other and I mouth to him, "Not telling."  I don't wanna steal their thunder!  But when it comes around to us, about 20 people later, I decide, what the heck.  So I say, "I'm thankful I'm not the only one here that's pregnant."  There were a few screams and lots of wide-open eyes.  I'm glad we ended up sharing.  It got me to the front of the dessert line.  :-D
Also, it got me the name of a great OB - who I'm not sure why I hadn't thought of before.  Dr. Masenge delivered Peter & Mary's three girls, here in Moshi, and I was there for the 3rd one, I don't know why I didn't think to ask. Rebeckah (the other pregnant one) told Bill she'd been to see him and that he's really good, has a transvaginal u/s (something the Arusha lady didn't have) and is very, very good.  So she gives us his number. We decide right in that moment to skip the Saturday trip to Arusha b/c the Moshi guy will be cheaper, and heck, not in Arusha.

Fast forward to today - December 5th.  
I still haven't been able to get ahold of him.  Apparently he's still working full time at KCMC Hospital, and runs a clinic in his off hours just inside town.   I've called several times and it just disconnects after a million rings (fun fact -no voicemail here). Once I called and someone else answered, when I asked if Dr. Masenge was available the man said, "Give me two minutes."  Then he hung up.  SMH.

I've been very 'meh' about it lately.  I'm kind of burned out on Doctors.  I know I'm pregnant.  I still have symptoms.  I can't eat hardly anything.  I'm nauseous most of the time. Still.  Even rice, people. Plain.  White.  Rice.  YARF.  Things that I enjoyed just a day ago now sound disgusting.  Crackers?  Nope.  Apples?  Only if I have to.  Lately I've been okay with pizza and fried chicken (which isn't easy to get here).  That's about it.  Oh.  And the cinnamon rolls we made to celebrate the last day of Thanksgiving break. Those were AMAZING.  I can't do tuna, eggs, beef, and most beans/lentils.  Hard to get protein.
By noon I'm completely and utterly exhausted.  Which is fine on Monday, Wednesday and Friday when I get to come home with Owen after lunch at 1.  But on Tuesdays and Thursdays I may as well be a zombie by the time I get home. Last night I was in bed at 8:15.  And that's because I was forcing myself to stay up.
I still get dizzy when I stand up or sit up too quickly, especially into the afternoon/evening.

So that's that.  I'm ___ weeks along?  About 10 weeks according to the 1st U/S from the OB in Arusha, but, as you can (read) above - I'm not sure how reliable that is.  I'm having trouble calculating from my last period because my last regular cycle was at the end of August, but then when I got around the new teachers here they started pulling my cycle (you know, when ladies get together their cycles match up) So I had a 'something' in late September but it wasn't much.  Just a few very light days, not even enough for a (TMI WARNING!) tampon or pad, just liners. SO - that's why I can't calculate from that.

Whew.  Glad to be caught up on this.  That was a long one - kudos if you hung in there long enough to get to the end!