EPISODE 37 – MEDICAL TRAUMA

Who likes anything negative? I bet no one does. I don’t either. Negatives tend to always have one thing or the other to do with bad stuff. In fact, no one ever prays for negative results. Now, how about the twin term, ‘Positive’? Now, everyone likes that, right? I looked up an English thesaurus to find words synonymous with the term ‘positive’ and found out that ‘positive’ could mean any of the following: optimistic, constructive, helpful, encouraging, affirming, etc. My point is, the term ‘positive’ is generally synonymous with pleasant happenings. However, that seemingly pleasant term could take a totally different turn and register a stark unpleasantness, hence in that instant you find yourself wishing for a negative. For instance, everyone wants a Negative H.I.V test result and a Negative Pregnancy test result, especially when having a baby is the last thing you want.

BG’s pregnancy test result came back positive and I was convinced for a good while that I was having a bad dream, a nightmare. If my memory served me right, we had gone for an abortion weeks before and the evacuation had been done, so what in hell was happening? ‘Positive’ meant she was pregnant but I was not sure of which pregnancy this one was - the one that had been taken care of or a fresh one? My head was spinning like a turntable under a mad deejay’s control. I examined the possibilities. I had not slept with BG after the abortion so technically it was impossible for her to be pregnant afresh, except she was the new Virgin Mary and I was sure God had no such plans for humanity anymore. The other possible option was the possibility of her still being pregnant with the same foetus we had since
terminated. What if the abortion attempt had failed? I felt a chill run through my spine as the thought crossed my mind. No way, I assured myself feebly. It was impossible.
“Are you sure the test was well carried out?” I asked her.
It was a rather stupid question but at that moment I hardly felt like one with complete senses.
“Of course the test was well done.” BG retorted, scarcely concealing her irritation.
“Was it a urine test or a blood test?” I probed further.
“A blood test,” she answered.
“Let’s try a urine test then.” I said. “You can’t still be pregnant.”
I wondered if I would have suggested a blood test had she told me she had done a urine test and I was sure I would have. I was convinced beyond every iota of doubt that BG could not still be pregnant; at least I had convinced myself to that extent.

BG left for the lab and immediately I called the doctor to break the news. The woman was shocked as well.
“You mean she has not still seen her menses?” she asked.
“No!” I barked into the receiver. “This is not even about the menses. She just had a pregnancy test and it was positive.”
“Are you sure you did not have intercourse with her after the evacuation?” she asked.
“No, we haven’t done anything of that sort” I said, struggling to keep my voice down. I was furious as hell.
The doctor hesitated for a while. “That’s a serious case. I am equally confused,” she said.
“That means you did not do the evacuation properly, doctor.” I accused.
“No way,” the abortionist defended. “I have been doing this for years and I have never heard of this situation before. Both of you should come and see me tomorrow.”
The first thought that came to mind as soon as I ended the call was to go see the woman, give her a lash of words and collect a total refund of my money. However, I decided otherwise since that would in no way help solve the problem. Besides, she might just be able to do something about it. While I pondered on the next line of action, BG called to inform me that the urine test had confirmed that she was still pregnant.

We were at the doctor’s clinic the next day and I sat in the consulting room and watched her examine BG. She pressed her stethoscope to BG’s tummy and listened for what seemed like an eternity. Then she applied some slight pressure on the lower tummy with her hands.
“Do you feel any pains here?” she asked.
BG shook her head. “Not at all”
The woman sighed. “I don’t understand what’s happening here. She does not appear to be at all pregnant but her abdomen is hard.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
The doctor removed the stethoscope from her ears slowly. “It means she’s over two months pregnant.”
“That’s the same pregnancy you terminated!” I exclaimed. “You did a lousy job, woman!”
“Don’t shout at me, young man!” the doctor retorted. “I did my job and I did it well. You can ask your woman. The foetus was evacuated.”
“So what could have happened?” I asked weakly.
The woman did not respond for almost one minute and I was about to repeat my question when she gave a most ridiculous opinion.
“Maybe it’s twins.”
I was not sure I heard right. “What? I beg your pardon.”
“I said it’s possible that she was pregnant with twins and only one was removed while the other one remained.”
I decided this woman was not just a quack. She was equally insane! I beckoned to BG and we left the clinic.

I was now sure that I was in deep trouble. BG was indeed pregnant and I wondered why things had gone so awfully wrong. I had repented of my sins and since turned a new leaf, so I could not fathom why God seemed so bent on punishing me and subjecting me to so much ridicule. My waterloo was almost inevitable now, especially because I could not bring myself to taking BG for another abortion. Her reaction when I broached the subject totally kicked the idea off my mind.
“You must be crazy!” she lashed. “Another abortion? Why don’t you just take a knife and kill me yourself.”
I wished I could have done that if only I would go scot-free. Truth was, even if she had been willing to go ahead with the abortion, I had lost all courage to go through with it. The unsuccessful abortion attempt opened up my eyes to the possibility of a higher power being at work. I decided to resist whatever power could be at work and got a prescription that might help in our bid to terminate the pregnancy from a friend who knew a gynaecologist.
“This drug can remove a three-month old foetus in fact. My doctor says it’s safer than abortions,” my friend had told me. He also added that there were mild side effects that would not pose any real threat.

Getting the drug cost some good money and we hoped we would get our problem solved for good. Two weeks later, the situation was still the same and at that point, I became totally convinced that I was fighting against God in a battle I could never win. My friend decided we go and see his gynaecologist friend. Booking an appointment with the doctor took another two weeks and all the while, I continually observed BG’s physical features. There was nothing about her to suggest she was pregnant and I hoped I would not go mad with worry. Finally, we met the gynaecologist by mid February and on examination he confirmed that BG really could be pregnant. He also corroborated the woman doctor’s ‘twin-foetus theory’ as a possibility much to my utmost shock. He advised that BG went for a pelvic scan in order to be certain of the precise situation. The result of the scan proved to be the final blow. I decided to throw in the towel and surrender to the powers that were dealing with me.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.