Immediately, we all swung into action to save the woman’s life, I couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of helplessness. In the midst of the joy of childbirth, we had been confronted with the stark reality of the fragility of life.
The minutes that followed were a blur of frantic activity. Chest compressions, intubation, medications—every effort was made to revive the woman. But her condition continued to deteriorate.
And then, to our horror, she went limp. The monitors registered a flatline, a flatline on a monitor means that there is no electrical activity detected in the heart, this usually happens when a person is dead.
The room seemed to fall into a deafening silence, tears welled up in my eyes as I realised the gravity of the situation. Despite our best efforts, we had lost her.
Nurse Kemi turned to me, her eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Chioma. We did everything we could.”
I nodded, my heart heavy with grief. It was a painful reminder that, in the world of medicine, triumph and tragedy often walked hand in hand.
As the reality of what had transpired sank in, I couldn’t help but reflect on the fragility of life, the moments of joy and sorrow that coexisted in our profession. It was a stark reminder of the responsibility we carried as healthcare providers, a reminder that every life was precious, every moment fleeting.
The woman’s death weighed heavily on my mind as I left the labour room. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we had missed something crucial, that there had been a complication we hadn’t anticipated. I needed answers, not just for my own peace of mind, but to ensure that such a tragedy didn’t happen again.
Later that day, I met with the senior obstetrician, Dr. Frank. His expertise and experience were well-known throughout the hospital, and I hoped he could shed light on what had gone wrong during the delivery.
We sat in his office, and I recounted the events of that fateful night—the labour, the vacuum extraction, and the sudden deterioration of the woman’s condition.
Dr. Frank listened attentively, his brow furrowing in thought. After a moment of silence, he began to explain the complication that had led to the woman’s death.
“It appears that the woman had a condition known as placenta accreta,” he said gravely. “It’s a rare but serious condition where the placenta attaches too deeply into the uterine wall. This can lead to severe bleeding during childbirth.” he explained.
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Usually, the placenta detaches from the wall of the uterus after childbirth but with placenta accreta, part or all of the placenta remains attached. This can cause severe blood loss after delivery. Women with placenta accreta usually don’t have any signs or symptoms during pregnancy, although it may be detected during a routine pregnancy ultrasound.
Placenta accreta is believed to be related to abnormalities in the lining of the uterus that could happen due to scarring after a C-section or any other surgery to the uterus.eg. fibroid removal surgery. Placenta accreta may also occur in women who have not had any of the surgeries previously mentioned.
My heart sank as I absorbed the information. Placenta accreta was indeed a rare and challenging condition. It often went undetected until delivery, and in some cases, even after. The excessive bleeding it caused could be life-threatening.
Dr. Frank continued, “In this case, the condition had not been diagnosed beforehand. When we attempted the vacuum extraction, it likely disrupted the placental attachment, leading to massive haemorrhage (medical term for bleeding). Despite our efforts, we couldn’t control the bleeding in time.”
I nodded, my mind racing. It was a devastating revelation, one that had cost a woman her life and left a newborn without a mother. I couldn’t help but wonder if there had been signs we had missed, if there had been anything more we could have done.
Dr. Frank placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Chioma, sometimes these conditions are incredibly difficult to detect until it’s too late. The outcome was tragic, but it’s essential that we learn from this experience and ensure that we have better protocols in place for early diagnosis and management.”
His words were a reminder that medicine, despite its advancements, was still full of challenges and uncertainties. It was a humbling lesson that would stay with me throughout my career—a reminder of the constant need for vigilance and the pursuit of knowledge.
As I looked towards the future, I knew that my path in medicine would be marked by challenges and heartaches, but would also be illuminated by the moments of healing and hope that made it all worthwhile. The woman’s death had left an indelible mark on my journey, a reminder that in medicine, we carried the weight of lives in our hands, and we must always strive to do better, to be better.
Later that weekend, I finally got the rest that I needed as I was not on call duty.
Ugochi and I were supposed to see a movie later at night. I was about to take another quick nap before our night out when my phone rang. It was Ugochi calling.
“Obviously, someone can’t do without talking to me every time” I thought to myself. I had spoken to her earlier that morning so that was the only possible explanation for her calling me again in the afternoon when she was still going to see me at night.
The urgency in her voice when I picked sent a shiver down my spine. “Chioma, you won’t believe what just happened,” she exclaimed, her words filled with panic.
“What’s going on, Ugochi? What happened?” My heart raced as I held the phone tighter, fearing the worst.
Find out what happens later Today in episode 10 #checkwithdoctoro
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