second_banana | Fact Checking Fail

Fact Checking Fail

Dear LOST,

in the 1970's and 1980s an unexpected breech presentation (babies coming out ass first) was not call for an immediate c-section. I know it's considered SOP now, when doctor's aren't being taught how to help breech babes come out on their own, but on a REMOTE OUTPOST where I'm gathering MAJOR ABDOMINAL SURGERY isn't routine (if they send them off the island to pop out a kid do you really think they perform appendectomies there?) there is no fucking reason for a breech breach babe to be a c-sec unless there is a prolapsed cord or other major issue.

No love,
Susan

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*waves hand* I was an unexpected breech, in 1973. They were going to do a last-minute c-section but then my mom's labor sped up too fast for that and out I came. :)

Ugh, my daughter was breech...and they managed to get her turned and OH MY GOD did that hurt. However, as you pointed out, a C-section is major surgery and I not a fan of elective c-sections. I'm sure the pain of 'convincing' her to turn her butt around ;) was far less than recovering from a c-section!

Considering the difficulties women had with giving birth on The Island, I can see why they'd just go "Fuck it, we're cutting that baby outta that womb!" in the event of an ass-first birthing situation.

But, then again, I'm not a trained baby birther. I just play one on TV.

I was the first twin, and the second twin, my brother, had the cord wrapped around his neck and was being strangled to death. There was a doctor in the hospital who had just returned from a conference in an Eastern European country (which was a BIG DEAL back in 1963!) and he ran to the operating room and did this thing where he reached inside my mum and stuck his fingers inside my brother's mouth and pulled him out, safe and sound. Although, he's a bit of a dick sometimes.

So, my twin brother and I were delivered by different doctors 27 minutes apart.

I'm not entirely sure how that relates, since I do not watch Lost ever, but I thought, as a midwife, you might like that story.

And, by bizarre coincidence, about 10 years later after we moved to a whole other province, on a family outing to an amusement-type park, we ran into that same doctor. Small f'ing world. (No, it was not that amusement park - it was Ontario Place.)

*rambles some more about the original Ontario Place Forum and the cool climbing apparatus that no longer exists there, and how they wrecked the whole concept when they started with the Play-all-day passes*

I think I'm officially old, now. *ramble ramble ramble*

It certainly varied by location and doc, but in a place where there was no surgeon? Even most paramedics were trained with what to do for a breech.

I was an unexpected breech in the 80s. Yay butt first babies!

Oh man, I've seen an external version done and know folks who have had it done too them... OUCH. I'm glad it worked for you though!

I can see why they might go there on the island if they had someone who knew what the fuck they were doing. Good thing they had that mechanic who knew what size supplies she would need. *headdesk* No seriously... without knowing Juliet's history who the hell would let her perform surgery on the boss's wife?

That's so cool! You know, not the almost death part, but the having the information on how to handle a complication part.

I fully support anyone's desire to have their "get off my lawn" moments in this journal. Complete with fish shaking and cane rattling if necessary.

*sporfle*

The other day my son was mistaken for an anti-racist skinhead by a racist skinhead, who proceeded to spew vitriol, much to the bafflement of my son, who is neither.

I was all, "How can you be mistaken for a skinhead? You've got a mohawk!"

And he agitatedly informed me that these days, skinheads can have mohawks.

WHO KNEW!?!?!

So I started on this whole, "In my day, skinheads shaved their whole head, dammit, only punk rockers had mohawks! And we didn't order our gear on the interwebs, we made it ourselves. And there was none of this "mosh pit" nonsense! We skanked barefoot! In the snow! Uphill. Both ways!"

Then my Dwarf started going, "Skinheads? We didn't talk to racist skinheads. And we didn't let racist skinheads talk, either. That's the problem with you kids these days..."

And my son laughed his ass off and thanked us both for getting him out of his bad mood.

So, yeah, granny-cranky-pants moments are useful!

But on the other, more serious point - yes, it was extremely lucky that doctor was in the building that day, because the technique was brand spanking new in the west, and they hadn't even known my mum was having twins - they thought it was one baby with a heart murmur, when really it was two babies, one with WPW, one with a cord wrapped around his neck just waiting to tighten up when he tried to get out. Plus, she was only 6 days early! Oh, those were the days, when mothers did not know you weren't supposed to smoke when you were knocked up...

And then, in spite of HIM being the one in trouble, I was the one who had to spend the first week of life in an incubator, due to what was then considered a low birth weight of 4lb 11oz.

I totally blame my claustrophobia on that incubator... *rant rant ramble ramble*

I always knew there was something weird about you...

(Says the twin with the heart defect and the almost-dead brother...)

Us weirdos gotta stick together!

Edited 2009-03-06 23:27 (UTC)

*ogles your butt first*

(Then your bosom.)

Somebody really must do some sort of study on irregular births and the incidence of slashiness. Really.

My mom always suggested that I was making it very clear what I thought of the world, on my entrance into it. ;)

I can think of all kinds of sticky ways the three of us could fit together. ;)

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Fact Checking Fail

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Hey you kids, get off my fucking lawn!

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