Everything started on Thanksgiving. You know how in movies and on T.V. anytime a woman is giving birth it's like she's sitting there peacefully doing nothing then she goes "OMG MY WATER BROKE!" Then she's carted off to the hospital, she's hooked up in a hospital bed and lays there grunting and pushing the baby out. Now there's a video floating around of a woman who gives birth in a car and she reaches down and says "I feel the baby's head! It's coming out right now!" and it all makes you think "holy crap when you're past your due date a baby just hightails it from between your legs!" Well that's called a precipitous labor and most of the time it's nothing like that. I was warned of this fact by the midwives but I really misunderstood the implications of that. On Thanksgiving day something else happened that paralleled my misunderstanding of the labor process.
I saw a caterpillar of a monarch butterfly, plump and wriggling from the underside of a leaf in it's telltale "J" shaped position. I read that the process of the caterpillar shedding it's skin and becoming a chrysalis took place over the course of a few minutes and I was intent on watching it happen. Past my due date, watching butterflies flit around my parents front yard with my own body about to go through a serious transformation nothing seemed more appropriate for viewing. I sat for around 30 minutes watching contentedly, nothing. I waddled in and out out of the house constantly, all day trying to catch this caterpillar in the act. Right as we were about to head home I caught glimpse of it doing it's thing and I was there when it's wrinkled skin fell from it's new green shell. Nice.
Although privy to this little show, it's lesson didn't occur to me until many hours later. Thanksgiving night had been pretty nice, Joshua had been playing Fallout 4 and I lay on the futon with my head on his hip enjoying watching him play, occasionally drifting off to sleep with a baby and turkey bloated belly. It had gotten pretty late and we went upstairs for bed, almost the second I laid down for some real rest I got some serious cramps. I thought maybe something I ate disagreed with me but after seeing a little bit of blood and something akin to strawberry jam (haha enjoy that visual!) it became clear that this was the main event and I was ready to fly down the street and meet our baby that very night!
For those of you who have never experienced contractions, at first the pain is comparable to the kind of cramps you get when you are 1 second away from shitting your pants with explosive diarrhea except there is no relief found from pooping, it just goes on and on intermittently so you lose your train of thought, Harrison Bergeron government transmitter style. If you want to experience something similar to contractions go eat at The Jones, their food tastes great and the choices are awesome but out of 5 visits or so I have gotten some form of food poisoning every time. (2017 edit update: you will have to get food poisoning elsewhere because The Jones was closed a year ago now due to having a dirty-ass kitchen and giving everyone food poisoning. Ain't that just the way? 😂) It twists your entire stomach and takes your breath away, you want to fall to your knees but the jarring sensation would just make it worse. You can't walk or talk through them, your natural response is going rigid and high-pitched whining. I coped by sitting on my yoga ball and trying my best to breathe deeply and relax. You would never think relaxing could be such a difficult thing to do!
I woke Joshua, we went to Wal-Mart (literally less than a block away from our apartment) and bought a fruit tray for me to snack on during labor (this ended up being a godsend.) As we were checking out our cashier asked when the baby was due, I told her 3 days ago but I wanted to shout "RIGHT FRIGGIN' NOW!"
Fruit tray acquired, we sped off down the street as soon as I timed my contractions at at 5 minutes apart although not exactly 1 minute in length, sometimes only 45 seconds, but god the pain was enough to warrant some action from my point of view! After 9 months of waiting I'm more than ready to take this show on the road. I notified my midwife and she told me "they are 5 minutes apart but not consistently 1 minute in length? Just try your best to rest and go back to sleep, you will need the energy for true labor." Needless to say this wasn't the response I wanted to hear but I trust my midwives and I'm sure she's right, as much as I'd like to pretend otherwise.
We turned the car around and went back home. I apologized to Josh for the false alarm and he headed upstairs to sleep, meanwhile I paced around the living room doing all I could to keep cool. Once I was told to relax, try to sleep, and not pace around all night, the best I could do was lay down and try to watch Netflix, staggering up every five minutes unable to be still through a contraction. I recalled relaxation techniques from the birthing classes and tried to put some to use mainly deep breathing, now in the moments of dire need deep breathing meant squat. The closest to deep breathing I could get was a deep inhale then a high pitched squeal. The best relief I found was our yoga ball, I either stayed glued to it or shot up every 5 minutes to plant my butt on it and squeal.
Time passes differently when you're caught up in waves of immaculate suffering. I watched so many things to try and ignore the contractions and fall asleep, when I say watched, I mean had playing on the computer while I glanced up occasionally. Time passed from 1am to 3am to 7am. Probably a dozen episodes of Archer, several episodes of Forensic Files, about half of some movie consisting of nothing but ocean footage and relaxing music, and in the early hours of the morning I topped it off with The Great Mouse Detective (a childhood favorite of mine.) Despite the searing pains I was able to notice a few things about The Great Mouse Detective that had gone over my head as a 5-year-old. 1: He is essentially Sherlock Holmes as a mouse. That realization made it a pretty good watch. I had no idea. 2: The bad guy Ratigan is a really bad guy, like maybe one of the darkest in cartoon movie history. He enslaves a father by threatening to kill his daughter and sings a little song which includes a chorus of his followers asking "even meaner? you mean it? Worse than those widows and orphans you drowned?" I mean wow. Just...really? The rest of his song is talking about heists and burglary and things of that nature but drowning widows and orphans? You're sick Ratigan. Sick.
Anyhow, this experience just goes to show that even in the midst of a sensation like a rusted kris digging around in your stomach every 5 minutes, if you're tired enough you will eventually be able to sleep.
(what is a kris?)
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| A dagger that's even shittier to be stabbed with than your garden variety dagger. Ouch. |
(Was I crying because the song was pretty or because Life of Pi?)
Eventually around 2pm on Black Friday, the contractions became true contractions and we finally went to the birth center. There was a great deal of jokes made between Josh and I about Dixie being the big Black Friday bargain of the year. Turns out that horrendous pain only dampens my sense of humor a tiny bit. On the car ride there I squealed and whined out the open passenger window, wondering how onlookers perceived this sight. Could they see my large belly? Could they know what was happening? Or did I just look like some crazy lady on drugs? I guess it doesn't really matter.
When we got there, the midwife checked my dilation and the baby's heartbeat, only 3-4 centimeters dilated it would still be awhile before active labor set in so she told me she would wait to admit me but Josh and I could get comfy in the birthing room and hang out until we were ready. Dixie's heartbeat however was troubling, when I laid on my back it dropped to a dangerous 120 normally in the 150s or so, it was advised that I just keep off my back. At the moment it seemed the problem only existed when I was on my back so she guessed that it was some type of compression on the umbilical cord but as long as I stayed off my back it shouldn't be a problem. The midwife who was on call is named Sarah, she had been my midwife for the last few appointments so I was happy to see her, although I like the other midwife a lot too and I probably would have been equally happy to see her as well. Everyone is great at the birthing center and the place itself is beautiful and easy to get comfortable in.
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| Old picture of the Birth Center, they now have rocking chairs on the front porch where the ladies can relax. |
Sarah helped me deal with my pain much better than I had managed alone. She agreed that my use of the yoga ball was a great choice because it opens the pelvic floor, but she advised me to make deep resounding vibrations instead of my high pitched squeals. Not sure why but these were astoundingly effective and every 5 minutes (or less!) I had my eyes closed and I was humming a low "ummmmm" as if I was debating something. She also advised me not to count the seconds and wait for an end to the pain as much as I should embrace the pain and see it as bringing me steps closer to meeting our daughter. I said "I kind of tried that but it seems to make it feel even worse" to which she replied kindly but somewhat curtly "yeah....it's gonna do that but the good news is it really doesn't get any worse." With no further explanation on that I figured this was the name of the game and I was gonna have to suck it up and deal. This is when it hit me. This is what I have been waiting for. This was the test. This was the exquisite pain that I had told myself I would endure and come out the other end as a woman champion, mother. I always had the choice to back out and ask to be whisked off the hospital but I was determined to do this the way I had imagined. In my mind there was no going back on my resolution and this pain was inevitable so her advice was sound (as always) and it was in my best interest to embrace it and ride the wave. It seemed like a daunting task, but any daunting task can be accomplished with enough practice time and as it turned out, I had a full 25 hours to get it perfect.
From 2pm to 5pm I walked a nearby park with Joshua pausing every contraction to lean on him slow dance style and hum/moan, I sat and bounced on the smaller-than-yoga-ball birthing ball available at the birthing center, I attempted another series of mircosleeps, and I snacked on the fruit tray and some cheese that Josh had brought for me. The next time I was checked around 5pm, I was dilated to 5-6 centimeters and I had begun to handle the pain pretty well. I was pretty discouraged that so little could have happened in such a long amount of time but Sarah said it was good that any progress was being made so I shouldn't feel let down. My contractions began to grow longer, sometimes lasting several minutes with only 3 or 4 minutes in between but with humming, birthing ball, and mental visualization I could ride the pain to an unbearable peak lasting only a few moments, then come back down to await the next. I was finally admitted as a patient and allowed to use the birthing tub.
Sarah suggested that I visualize something like a circle growing larger or a flower opening, this would help me recognize my pain as a positive growth and help my cervix dilate. It's cliche as hell but I imagined a soft pink lotus unfolding it's multitude of petals. Just like her last bit of advice, this technique really changed the sensation for me.
The birthing tub at the birth center is large enough for two people and sits before a very large window covered by lovely teal drapes. The color scheme for the birth room I was in is calming and tasteful shades of teal and chocolate brown. Besides the large tub, the room also contained a king sized four-post bed beside which was a nightstand with a cd player, lamp and matching teal and brown lampshade, a teal vanity where a baby scale sat by another lamp, a changing table, an ancient looking wooden birthing chair and my best friend- the birthing ball. The only hints that the room was for medical use was a small metal cart by the door leading to the bathroom and kitchen area where cord clamps, blood pressure cuff, doppler, and things I couldn't identify lay upon it's gleaming surface.
I was listening to a cd called Rasa Devotion that I had borrowed from a friend just for the occasion and I had some lavender essential oil diffusing in a nearby burner I purchased, also just for this very occasion. Between the relaxing decor and environment, the warmth of the tub, the comfort techniques, the soothing music, and Joshua sitting behind me rubbing my neck and shoulders I figured I was finally starting to cope pretty well. At this point the contractions were lasting much longer than a minute, sometimes dragging on to 3 minutes or so with only a minute or two of relief in between but in the tub, I was finally able to handle them. Breathing deeply, I would ride the gnawing sensation up to a peak where I would hum loudly and envision the opening lotus, I would continue humming until it was over, then inhale deeply and relax. This is when I belatedly understood the message of the caterpillar/chrysalis. Just as I did with the caterpillar at first signs of changing, I rushed for the next stage. I got so amped up, adrenaline coursing through my veins, wildly pacing the living room but here I was now, over 8 hours later not even fully dilated. I took this as a sign that I need to work on my patience in the face of great excitement, and I filed this in the corners of my mind. I shared my connection with the caterpillar to Joshua and I recalled another animal teacher, my only previous experience with birth, I called her Meatball.
At our last apartment complex, I befriended and became the caretaker of a small group of friendly stray cats. My favorite of these was Meatball. Meatball was an extremely skittish apple-headed Siamese cat with a consistently worried look and sapphire eyes. I gained her trust over the course of months, tossing small bits of cat food to her until she became familiar enough to let me pet her and hold her. I waited for the next Operation Catnip to start up so I could bring all my new friends for vaccinations and spays and neuters but by the time it rolled around Meatball was obviously pregnant and I didn't have the heart to take her for a cat abortion, I decided I would help her have kittens and find them good homes once they became old enough. The weather had gotten pretty chilly so I set up a nest for her in our sheltered fire escape stairwell. A few old sweaters thrown in a wooden crate with one side missing, she took to it immediately and could almost always be found there. I went to visit her many times a day, bringing food and water and spending time petting her and talking to her. It was a wet and icy St. Patrick's day when Meatball was noticeably different. She was needy, scared, meowing in a pained tone, and keeping her head pressed into my hand. I figured she was getting ready to have the kittens and she wanted me to comfort her. I stayed as long as I could in that cold stairwell, late into the night until I simply had to go back in.
Now in my own moment of scared neediness I remembered being there for her and I remembered although she was obviously frightened and crying out, she was calm and she knew exactly what to do. And, so would I.
While I was in the tub Joshua and I were able to keep small talk and crack jokes between contractions. The simple act of mundane conversation helped relax me and brought a sense of normalcy, like we could be sitting on the couch in our apartment having a regular chat on any old day, not gritting our teeth in anticipation, on the threshold of a long awaited moment. I stayed in the tub doing pretty well for a few hours occasionally nodding off, Joshua catching my head in his always icy hands as it lulled over to the side or drooped forward. Sweet little things like this always show that he cares. Things seemed to be going pretty alright until Sarah came back in to check baby's heart beat. What she found was disturbing and she let me know that we may be in for some unexpected trouble.
Typically a baby's heartbeat slows down during a contraction while the baby is being squeezed downwards to the cervix then it speeds up to make up for the deceleration. Dixie's heart was speeding up to unsafe levels during contractions, even while I was seated in the tub. From this point on I was monitored closely, every hour or so. The troubling news pretty much wrecked my peace of mind and from that point on I could no longer cope with the contractions as well I had, every one was more agonizing and seemed to last even longer. I wondered how I had ever dealt with them in the first place. I got out of the bath and stayed on the birthing ball. At this point I had pretty much stopped talking.
Joshua briefly left the birth center to go pick up more snacks and get a sandwich for himself, back at the Birth Center I tried to take a nap on my side. When I woke I once again planted myself on the birthing ball and Sarah came around to check my dilation and Dixie's heartbeat. Three hours from the last check and progress had stalled completely. To make matters worse Dixie's heartbeat read dangerously high through a contraction, even while seated on the birthing ball. Sarah told me to stand so she could listen to her heartbeat through a contraction while I was standing to see if it would be any better. She extended her hands and helped me up from the ball, as my weight shifted to my feet and my hands clasped firmly in hers, I felt a gush of liquid. "I think my water just broke." It was 8pm.
With the amniotic fluid now dwindling we were now on a time limit which posed serious problems since Dixie's heartbeats were getting scary off target and labor had come to a standstill. Sarah told me she would have to call the OB/GYN (Dr. Buchanan) the BirthCenter works with and consult with him over what was happening. She said there was now a serious possibility that I would have to be transferred to his care, but she reassured me that he was a very nice guy and he would still give me choices for the birth instead of just push drugs and uncalled for procedures on me. As much as I didn't want it to be this way, I knew in my heart that I would be going to the hospital. I paced up and down the stairs of the old house, the wood floor felt warm and worn under my feet. I wondered just how many other laboring women had walked this same track before me. There was a birthing ball on both the first and second floor so I used whichever one I was nearest to when a contraction struck.
When the contractions first began, the most announcing I did was a vague Doom Paul "it's happening!" post on the old Facebook. Now approaching 11:00pm I still had yet to tell my parents, although Josh had without my knowing. I held off on telling them because I knew they would want to show up at the birth center but from my point of view I really didn't want anyone except Josh and the midwife around, as I wasn't really in the mood to talk or be stared at. Birthing isn't exactly a spectator sport if you know what I mean. Well around this time they texted that they were already at the Birth Center and within seconds they were in the kitchen watching me nibble on fruits and asking me questions. Sarah was somewhat flustered by the sudden arrival of my parents and she could tell that I was uneasy as well so she pulled me into the birthing room to take my vitals again and ask how I felt about all this.
"I gotta ask you Kristine, who are these people that just showed up?"
"My parents"
"Did you invite them over?"
"No, not really. I didn't really want anyone here until maybe she was out already."
"Would you like me to ask them to leave?"
"No they will be upset but I don't really want them around talking to me."
"OK I can just have them sit in the other room"
This was a nerve wracking moment because I couldn't cope with the contractions anymore and I was getting more restless and anxious in my pain, I now had maybe a cumulative hour of sleep over a 12 hour period, I hadn't been able to eat anything other than fruits, I was worried about the baby and scared of going to the hospital, and I didn't really want my parents there but I didn't want to hurt their feelings. I no longer felt like the sure and powerful woman who had shown up at the Birth Center, I felt like a scared child unwillingly strapped on a roller coaster being whipped around turns and flipped upside down at unpredictable moments. Nothing was going how I planned it or wanted it but I knew I would have to make due. This was how things had to be.
I was so exhausted I really can't remember what happened until Sarah came back and told me that Dr. Buchanan did suggest that I be turned over to his care. So this was it. It was around 1:30AM and I was leaving the Birth Center, on my way to Shands hospital for some unknown interventions. Although I was disappointed that things should suddenly go so awry I was also relieved that my midwife was so professional and knew when it became necessary to change the game plan. I was sure that I was very close to meeting Dixie. I waddled down the steps of the birth center for the very last time, into the crisp night air with my parents and Sarah in tow.
Sarah drove ahead of us, leading us down the back streets of Gainesville en route to Shands hospital. There had been a gator game earlier that day and people were still stumbling around drunk in the night. I always hated seeing the football fans party wherever they pleased about town, completely unconcerned with who they inconvenienced in their joviality. It was a minor annoyance on top of fearful uncertainty.
When we arrived at Shands we parked right up front, once Sarah and Joshua had dropped me off at labor and delivery Sarah would leave and Joshua would have to move our car to the parking garage. Sarah urged me to ride in a wheelchair up to labor and delivery since Dixie's heart was not doing too well and my exhaustion was obvious. I was relieved because I honestly do not think I could've made the walk through my tiredness and the now mind numbing contractions. I began to not so much cope or fight or welcome the pain as much as resign to it. Pretty much everything at this point had turned into resignation.
Sarah wheeled my through the halls of the hospital up to labor and delivery. She checked me in at the nurses station then gave me a big hug and departed. A nurse wheeled me into a room and before I knew it I was in a hospital bed with 4 or 5 nurses rushing around me poking I.V.s into me and putting sticky things all over my body. They addressed and joked with each other, not me, I was only spoken to to answer medical questions. I felt more like a project than a person but I understood that I am 1 out of maybe 20 women they were caring for on that floor, whereas at the Birth Center Sarah was there just for me. We were at the hospital now, I had to accept things would be different but it was a little traumatic how different it was. I imagine the switch is comparable to a home-schooled child suddenly switching to public high school. Despite how I felt I was well taken care of. A nurse asked me if I wanted an epidural to which I quickly responded "YES!!" at this point I figured since it was already not going the way I had planned and I had already suffered contractions for over a full frickin' day I deserved some damn drugs. We're at the hospital, give me the western medicine! The nurse scurried off to get an anesthesiologist.
Joshua left to park the car in the parking garage and once all the nurses had done their jobs and disappeared it was just my parents and I. Despite how I felt earlier I was now happy they were here. Now that all the nurses were gone the fetal heart monitor starting making a horrible loud beeping noise, it really stressed me out because no medical professionals were around and I didn't know what the noise meant and I had no way to stop it. It beeped and beeped and really pushed me over the edge with worry, this went on for a good 5 minutes before someone came back in and turned it off. They didn't seem alarmed by it so I figured I had no reason for alarm myself, but while I was waiting for a nurse or anyone to come in and turn it off I was thinking "oh god Dixie's heart is giving out right now and no one is even in here with us!" In case you haven't noticed, worrying is a favorite pastime of mine.
Joshua came back from the parking garage shortly after the OB/GYN came in. His name is Dr. Buchanan and at first I was a little confused by his appearance as he comes in wearing scrubs but with a grey and red hoodie over it and some old basketball shoes. Before I see the the scrub pants I imagine he looks more like a sports coach than a doctor. Later on he asks me for my birth date and immediately responds with "oh very good, Aquarius. Me too" This was such an Aquarian thing to say and notice. After he shared that with me his appearance and funny mannerisms made sense.
Just as Sarah had promised, Dr. Buchanan gave me a choice. He said since my labor was stalled we could either induce it with pitocin, get an epidural, and try to delivery vaginally or get a spinal and go ahead and do a c section. Although earlier I had said I wanted an epidural I didn't realize that different drugs went with different procedures and I just wanted some dang drugs. The room fell silent for a minute or two while I thought about it until my mom broke the silence by suggesting I choose the c section. I had seen and read enough birth scenarios to realize that pitocin often put the baby in fetal distress and since her heartbeat was already wavering, much to my dismay, I had to agree with her and choose the c section. I was terrified. Despite c sections being common and relatively safe, I was 90% sure that I was going to frickin' die. This had now literally become the exact opposite of what I wanted and what I imagined, this had nearly become a nightmare. After opting for a natural birth I read a lot of stories about the benefits of natural birth, which as a foil, often share the negatives of interventions; the least of which missing out on the natural chemical rush of post birth bliss and instant skin to skin contact, the most like Game of Thrones- everyone dies. I'm thinking I'm going to die of amniotic embolism, possibly infection, hemorrhaging, anything. Dixie would more than likely be fine but I was toast, I had to make the choice for her. Since she is new and I am old and my life doesn't really seem to be going anywhere anyway I tell myself that even if I did die it's better than her dying all because I was too scared to be cut open. (spoiler alert: no one died!! :D ) I became as dramatic as possible and had Josh stand near me so I could hold his hand. I told him I was scared, it was an understatement.
Shortly after I told Dr. Buchanan that I wanted the c section I was wheeled away from everyone into the operating room. My gown was opened in the back and I was sat up on the operating table getting prepped for the spinal. I was really dreading everything about this part because I knew a needle would soon be going into my spine and I would be feeling every millimeter of it until the anesthesia was injected. Getting the spinal was probably the most horrifying part. I was told to scoot to the edge of the table and arch my back, really letting my spine stick out. My face was placed in a head rest thing and I was poked in the back and they asked "does this feel like the middle of your back?" This kind of upset me and I wanted to say "how the hell should I know ya'll are the medical professionals who are able to see it, don't ask me what the hell?!" but I ended up saying "yes." even though I was so nervous that I suddenly wasn't even sure what constituted as the middle of my back. I began to worry that maybe it wasn't the middle and now the anesthesia wouldn't work properly and I would feel myself get sliced open and blah blah, but you know, I worry a lot and none of that happened.
In the moments between getting the spinal and having Dixie pulled from my insides I reflected on the differences between this situation and how things were at the Birth Center. Instead of a tastefully decorated relaxing room I was now propped up on a hard cot like thing in a blazing bright and sterile white cube. I thought of Sarah, who spoke gently and firmly, but would always go quiet and let me focus through my contractions, now as I hummed and breathed through a particularly bad contraction I was ordered to sit still while a needle pierced my spine. Righteous. As my arms were strapped down to my sides in crucifix position I longed for the freedom of mobility given at the Birth Center, and I remembered the comforting warmth of the birthing tub as the anesthesia took effect and I began to shiver uncontrollably. The anesthesiologist was a really nice guy who talked me calm through the shaking and strange sensations. He poked me with a small wooden stick and asked if I felt it. "yes, yes, yes, and no" once the stick poked me below the waist. Ok it was time.
Joshua was invited in and he quickly sat beside me and held my hand, he didn't dare take a peek beyond the drape, although he was invited. Dr. Buchanan and nurses stood on the other side of the drape and began working away. I didn't feel a single thing but I was fully conscious and clear headed (apart from the fear) and listening to their conversations. They joked and conversed and talked through it lightheartedly, it really calmed me down as I realized they have done this millions of times. Conversation so ordinary and comforting, it could've been exchanged over an office water fountain instead of my trembling body. I waited to feel the first cut, at least the pressure of it, something. I looked at the lamp above hoping to catch a reflection of the carnage on the other side of the drape but it was fogged plastic and the light didn't refract well enough to form any real images on the metal behind it, I'm sure these lamps were designed like that on purpose. I waited and waited and waited to feel the first cut, I wondered what they had to do for prep that was taking so long until I felt a spatter across my ribs. I was already open! And had been for I don't even know how long!
It was only a matter of minutes now until I heard a cry!
A nurse held the crying and flailing baby before us for a second before they took her to the corner to get cleaned up. I was expecting something a little horrifying, let's be honest newborns look kind of crazy like frozen chickens, but she was already beautiful. Red skin, a round little potato head, eyes shut tight and a gaping screaming big mouth. When she did open her eyes they looked darkest blue, like hematite. I loved her! She had a loud droning cry ending in a pitched squeak. She was so squeaky! She sounded exactly like a dog toy! I couldn't believe it! I squeezed Josh's hand and smiled. I don't remember but we probably said something to each other along the lines of "we did it!"
Once she was cleaned up a nurse handed her to Joshua and asked me if I wanted him and the baby to wait for me in the recovery room where only one visitor is allowed at a time or go meet the grandparents back in my hospital room. I figured I would be right behind them so I said just go to the recovery room, I didn't realize that my abdomen was still filleted open and the closing process would take about 30 minutes more. Joshua, the first person in the world to hold and comfort her (apart from the nurse but that was a business hold not a love hold) got to spend some good alone time with his daughter. The doors closed behind him as he entered the recovery room, beyond their limits he could hear grandma protesting her denied entry. "That's bullshit!" she said.
