At first I cringed at the thought and felt just a bit overwhelmed. I can't even stand to see much pain, and hysteroscopies can be a wince painful. So, I buffed myself up and watched the first one. The patient screamed at the pain, when the doctor suctioned out a small sample of tissue to be analyzed at the Pathology lab.
The next patient, I feared for. A slender, young Pakistani women who was unable to get pregnant. She spoke no English and had her husband translate the procedure for her. We went into the room--myself, the doctor, a med intern, the nurse, and a nurse practitioner.
Initially, I couldn't figure out the beautiful dialect rolling off her tongue as the patient spoke to her husband. Later, in the treatment room, I learned it was Ordu; the native tongue of Pakistan. Coincidentally, the N.P. was Pakistani and gracefully translated the procedure and results to the trembling Pakistani patient. As the camera and tubes went up her cervix, her legs trembled. Surprisingly, there were no shouts or screams. She did let a few tears out, but she endured the procedure.
Other patients included severe cases of endometriosis, benign tumors blocking the cervix, and high-risk pregnancy candidates.
It's hard to tell someone that they can't get pregnant--ever. It's sad to see 40 something old women come in with all sorts of medical issues of their own, only hoping to be able to get enough hormones to make them fertile then conceive.
One case was a woman with two kidney transplants and underlying lupus. But she wanted a child of her own. What do you say? It's sad, and hard.
Day 2 was fulfilling and exhausting all at once. Let's see what Day 3 has in store.
