School surprise. Beware this is a long one.

   SO I am in school, and in my humanities and English class I had to write a paper on a personal issue.  This is a first draft.  After writing it I realized...God is amazing...duh...and I need to share this if you want to read it.

Based on a Doctors Advise

I was fifteen and I was in pain.  More pain than I had ever experienced in my life.  The commotion was overwhelming.  Each new face starring at areas of my body I can only reach with a mirror was confirming my worst fears.  I was headed for sergury.  As the doctor administered the anastesia he counted down and assured me that when I woke all would be well.  The truth is that day changed my life forever.
            As doctors they take an oath to first do no harm.  Granted no harm was done, but aside from the excruciating pain that I felt after the surgery there was not much help either.  I was diagnosed with Indometriosis.  Most women in the world have a little bit of indometriosis.  In layman's terms it is when the lining of the uterus gathers scar tissue because an over abundance of bleeding.  Most women fare well enough and find that it is cured with vaginal birth of a child.  Due to complications of this operation they had to close up early, and a lot of it was left.  Over the next couple of years I would face three other operations, all with failure to clear the scar tissue and blood.  I was seventeen now.  Vivacious, full of life, and ready to change the world.  I was not willing to allow my operating room visits to change my life, or my goals.  However, my body had a different plan in mind.  As I stood talking to some friends I felt the strength leave me, and I collapsed.  This was nothing that I had experienced before, and being rushed to the emergency room I could not help but ask why.  I was healthy.  If a person did not know me they would see that I was active in basketball, ran two miles a day, and all around strong.
            Two weeks passed.  The visitors were less and less, and my moral was even lower.  In the two weeks I was in the hospital I lost over fifteen lbs, and still had no explanation of why I could not move.  I had toobs in every opening to my body, and I was scared.  My doctor came in and informed me that we would be going into surgery to remove my colon.  If they didn’t proceed that day I would die.  I was alone, so I called my mom.  None of this made since.  As soon as she arrived my mom demanded an explanation, but was not given one that made any sense, so we chose to leave against medical advise.
            I started to get better, but the pain would come in waives.  Finally it was bad enough that I was back in the emergency room.  Dr. Grahm was a man in his thirties.  Tall and skinny.  His face was welcoming and I found myself at ease because he was young enough to wear the brown leather suspenders, but not old enough to intimidate me into not asking questions.  When he came to talk to me he explained that I had a very strange and rare case.  I presented with four kidney chambers instead of two.  That being the case while I was in the hospital they would not have seen the large kidney stone that was lodged in the second of the two on the left side.  The only reason he causght it was because they allowed the radioactive dye to drain longer during the test they run.  It wasn’t my colan at all.  I was just a strange human with more organs than most, and the pain would be taken care of as soon as they removed the kidney stone.  It did exactly that.  A year later the news reported that the doctor that was going to take my colon out had gotten his license revoked for male practice.  He had been taking colons out of the youth in the area in a strange psychotic break that had fallen upon him.
            A year passed.  No pain, no operations.  I was a normal high school graduate enjoying my independence and life of travel.  Until the pain came back.  It was the indometriosis, back in a stronger case than before.  The only way to take care of the issue was to completely remove the source.  I would be receiving a hysterectomy at the age of nineteen.  I would never be able to have a child aside from adoption.  I was devastated.  My dreams of being a mom were over. Who would want to marry a woman that could not have children?  I had no choice.  I signed the paperwork, understood what was about to happen, and once again I heard the countdown and the reassurance that everything would be fine.
            When I woke the doctor explained that they were able to get all of the indometriosis without giving me a hysterectomy, but I would still never be able to have children.  He put me on two forms of birth control as a way of therapy to keep the bleeding from doing any more damage.  I still had a uterus, but no dream of a family left to speak of.
            My life wasn't over, but my dreams were going to have to change.  I soon married and my husband and I both decided that in around five years we would start looking into adoption.  Six months into our marriage I noticed pain again.  Except the pain was accompanied by tender breasts, and a bloated feeling.  I was pregnant.  I became pregnant while on two forms of birth control, and a doctors council that I would never be able to conceive.  The pregnancy went by with no issues.  I changed doctors due to insurance issues, and was given a different diagnosis by my new doctor.      Tatum Adeline Davis is now a very healthy fifty pound, curly haired, blue eyes joy.  She tells people she is five, but Im convinced she is actually fifteen.  After Tatum was born I went to get prescribed birth control, at which time the nurse practitioner insisted that I needed to have an implant that would resist pregnancy for at least five years.  My doctor rejected that notion as well, and assured me another pregnancy would be no problem when I so chose to try.  Two years later we tried.  We tried for another two years with no luck, until there was.  I was overwhelmed with joy. However, one can never know pain so quickly after a flood of joy like the pain of loosing the child you tried so hard to get.  Within moments my doctor when from confident to unsure.  Unsure as to if I would be able to conceive again, if Tatum had been the only Blessing God would allow this un willing body that I live in.  A month later I became pregnant again.  At eight weeks no one would have believed that I would carry the baby to full term.  The blood was more than imaginable.  As I sat in the emergency room every doctor, nurse, and bystander watched in sadness as I hemorrhaged before their eyes.  Every look said what we were all thinking.  The doctor came in and offered to give me something for the pain, and I refused.  Not until I knew for sure that the baby was gone.  The pain was unbearable but I couldn't tell if it was my abdomen, or my heart that hurt more.  While the ultrasound tech tried to find a sign of life my husband and I stayed silent.  He held my hand and knew there was no way.  Thump, Thump, Thump.  If you have never heard the sound of an eight week old baby in uturo just know that it is the most beautiful symphony I had ever heard.  After what seemed an hour waiting for a sign on the ultrasound table we had a heart beat.  Strong, and very much alive.  The baby was protected by a sac that was surrounded by blood.  It is what is called a subcorrionic bleed.  It is something that heels itself as the baby grows.  So the pregnancy continued.  The next couple of months came and went with little to no excitement, until there was.  At seven months I was noticing pain with urination, and left plank pain.  That was usually my sign that it was kidney related.  I went to the doctor that found the four kidney chambers years before and he confirmed that I had not one, but four kidney stones.  Two of which were sending me into renal failure.  The option was surgery, or failure.  The problem was that the baby was too young to be delivered, so I was operated on while the baby was still in utero.  I was told that I, the baby or both could die.  The baby could also come early, or everything would be fine.  I was told to say goodbye. 
    When I came out of surgery I was greeted by a male nurse who assured me that the baby was fine, and they got all the stones out.  Shortly after a woman came to transport me to my room.  Still groggy and a bit confused I asked again about the baby, and the woman said the baby is fine, and they would allow me to see him once I was more awake.  This was of course after she first responded with, “baby? there was a baby?”  Back in my room I asked my mom to explain all that had happened.  There was no stone removal.  The baby was still inside of me, and I had a stint that would have to be removed after delivery of the baby.  None of the accounts I received were accurate.  The stint became an issue as well as the stone that were trying to pass.  They sent me into labor, and I remand in that state for three months with intermediate drug therapy to make contractions stop. 
    On August 9,2010 Camden Isaac Davis was born.  A healthy six pound fourteen ounce baby that brings more joy than I could ever have imagined.  He is now eight months old.  Although his pediatrician has tried to rush to diagnosis of disformed head, tumors in his testicles, and poor vision, none of these are the case.  His head is much like his grandfathers, he is a very well endowed little boy, and he was not yet eight weeks when his vision was in question.  Before you ask, I don't know if we are going to have anymore.  The point is that I can.  Despite what the doctors might say.  The issue is that I am not the only one who has delt with misdiagnosis.  granted not many have delt with as many misdiagnosis as I have.  I understand that doctors are people, like you and me.  I understand they are practicing medicine.  The issue is that so many times in my not very long life I was told it was over.  Some how or another.  A dream, a life, whatever the case, it was over.  The truth is they didn't have all the answers, but they tried to make decisions that could have been so final.  By the grace and Wisdom of the greatest physician of all none of it was, and I now have two beautiful reminders of the love my husband and I share.  The issue is the trust that I have over the earthly physicians is little to none.  I may have to walk the rest of my life in question over my health, and never really understand what is going on.  However, hopefully I am able to allow wisdom in before anyone makes another decision that can change my life again.