Dismissed & Disposable - My Postpartum Story

By: Courtney Spinks

PART ONE:

After an extremely disappointing experience with the on-call doctor and nurse for my labor and delivery, my husband and I were glad to bring our daughter home from the hospital and begin our journey as new parents. Being pregnant amid a global health pandemic came with a heightened level of stress, so I felt blessed to have a smooth pregnancy and no cause for concern during very thorough doctor’s visits leading up to my time in labor.
One evening a week after delivery, I developed an excruciating headache. In the days prior and during my time in the hospital I had what I was told were spinal headaches – a side effect from the epidural anesthesia. However, the pain this night was ten times worse than what I had been experiencing. The on-call doctor at my obstetrics office prescribed Tylenol 3, which my husband rushed to pick-up for me in the middle of the night. My mother and sister had been at our house all-day, so they were able to watch our daughter while I was in extreme pain. Soon after my husband returned, I took the medication and tried get some sleep.

The next thing I remember was lying in the back of an ambulance, feeling extremely disoriented and weak as I was questioned by emergency management technicians. I was informed that when my husband went to check on me, he found me curled over in the corner of our bed having a seizure – so he immediately called 911. Completely shocked and unable to fully process what I had just experienced, it was even more unsettling to learn that my husband would not be able to travel with me due to COVID-19 precautions. By the time my husband arrived at the hospital, he was informed that I had another seizure. What was going on? Was admitted to the maternity unit and my husband stayed with me.
Several tests and three days of monitoring later, I underwent a corrective epidural procedure for my spinal headaches, given magnesium for my seizures and it was also determined that I had eclampsia - or postpartum hypertension. However, this was not made clear to me and my husband during my time in the hospital and we only learned about the eclampsia only after reading my discharge papers at home. That being said, I did not understand the severity of my condition upon me being discharged and I was also not given much guidance by the doctor before leaving. This was not the medical facility I gave birth in or had any type of previous connection with – so I was just glad to be released.

PART TWO:

A few days later, my Husband noticed that I was repeatedly squinting my right eye and I didn’t feel like myself. Soon after I also developed double-vision, so my mother suggested that I purchase a blood pressure machine to check my pressure and heart rate. My blood pressure was indeed high, so I decided to head to the emergency room of the hospital where I gave birth. I was admitted, placed on magnesium again, and underwent an MRI on day two. All the while, the doctors had assured that I was probably fine with “no real cause for concern.” The next morning, I was visited by a neurologist who shared that I had an acute stroke – and he delivered the news like he was providing an oil change quote. There was absolutely no bedside manner or regard for my condition or emotions as a patient. Additionally, due to COVID-19 regulations, hospital guests were prohibited in most units – so I was alone while receiving this unexpected news. This was all too much. I had several questions that the doctor struggled to answer efficiently, and he even got frustrated that I asked him to re-explain how this could have happened. I was furious, confused and just wanted to get home to my two-week old daughter.

A short time later I was visited by two stroke unit specialists, both of whom quickly eased my anxiety, thoroughly answered my questions, shared next steps and made me feel comforted knowing that I was just given life changing news. I felt heard, seen and valued for the first time since admitted three days prior. Although I was lucky that my care took a turn for the better, I also understood how unfortunate it was that my concerns were not taken seriously until dealing with medical staff that looked like me.

One of the stroke specialists also referred me to a private neurologist who thoroughly assessed my condition a few days later and determined that I did not have a stroke, but rather a very rare neurological condition called Posterior Reversible Encephalopathy Syndrome (PRES). PRES is a stroke mimic, that can develop during the postpartum period for several months but does not usually have permanent effects on the body like a stroke. I was beyond grateful to the stroke specialist for the personal recommendation. Had she not placed me in contact with another doctor who was able see me right away, I may have gone weeks stressing over my condition which could have severely affected my postpartum hypertension and caused an actual stroke or worse.

As I reflect on my experience, I think of the number of times I felt dismissed or disposable as a patient. I imagine what may have happened if I didn’t advocate for myself in the hospital, I think about the single mothers who may not have the support system that I have in the event of such an emergency. I think about how some doctors don’t take the time to truly listen to the needs of Black patients because they assume that we are not adept enough to challenge their perspective. I think of the number of Black women who were not as fortunate to be able to raise their child, the Black women who are two to six more times likely to have fatal complications from childbirth nationwide.

My story is just one of far too many…and this is why we die.