In A Flash: A Memoir

By R. J. Castille

Sometimes we experience something so traumatic in our lives, it changes us forever…

Renee Johnson has found herself in the midst of turmoil. She has made nothing but a complete mess out of her life and nothing could prepare her for the path laid out before her. An unexpected turn of events plunges her into the most challengin

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel R. Jones
• Release date: Sep 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781644671351

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In A Flash: A Memoir

R.J. Castille

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

©R.J. Castille 2018

For Troy Anthony

My Tiny Angel

-Special Acknowledgements-

Special thanks to:

Rachel, my rock, for standing by my side through it all.  I couldn’t have survived without you.

My Precious, for everything you did and for braving the heat, so I could look at the stars.  You are my light in a dark world.

Trish, my mother, for always being there, no matter what happened and for helping me pick up the pieces of my life in the aftermath.

A special thanks to my editor and friend, Erica Bankston Stokes, for busting my ass and guiding me down the right path.

To my fellow author, and cheerleader, Tom Speed.  Thank you for your continued support and encouragement.

To the nursing staff at St. Mary’s Medical Center, thank you for being supportive and kind (for the most part) and allowing me to at least try.

Cover Designed by:  Honeybee Creative Designs

Cover Model: Jayden Allister Wallace

-Disclaimer-

This story is based on actual events, written from the author’s perspective.  It is a snapshot in time and has been written to include elements of the character’s life that added to the overall chaotic reality she faced. The experiences portrayed in this work should be considered historically accurate, however, it is impossible for someone to remember every exact detail, so the author would remind the readers that a Memoir in most cases is still considered fictional.  The names of the people and some places have been changed to protect their identities.

The author acknowledges the trademark and legal rights of the businesses, establishments and brand names mentioned in this work.

-Trigger Warning-

Warning: This work contains scenes that may invoke strong, emotional responses.  On occasion, the characters use offensive, adult language.  Discretion is advised.

Too Pure to Stay

By: Ron Tranmer

At the loss of a dear, sweet child

Words cannot explain,

How much the heart is broken

Or how awful is the pain.

Why doest Thou take the little ones?

I ask as I knelt to pray.

I felt His spirit telling me,

They are too pure to stay.

I had the warmest feeling

That my child is happy and waits,

Until we are together again

Beyond Heaven’s golden gates.

Time will reunite us

In not too many years,

In Heaven’s place, we’ll embrace

And joy will replace tears.

-Prologue-

They call it routine; they say it’s safe.  Does anyone ever stop to question that?  Of course not, they are the professionals after all.  Until it happened to me, I would never have thought to question them either.  One little procedure that changed things, in a flash.  A routine Pap smear during early term pregnancy.  They do them all the time, right?  As they smile up at you, offering you comfort as your entire personal region is on complete display, the medical professional opens your nether regions with a hard, plastic speculum and scrapes the cervix with what looks like a tiny bottle brush.  What could go wrong there, right?

When I reflect to the moment I knew something was going wrong, it sometimes prompts me to look further into my suspicions.  I have searched the Internet for statistical information on the link between a full Pap smear during early pregnancy and miscarriage or other complications.  It is difficult to find any information, dozens of websites later, and I still couldn’t come up with an answer.  The fact was right in front of my eyes, there is no statistical evidence, because the medical community has virtually ignored the possible connection, sweeping it under the rug using excuses such as, if a routine Pap smear caused a miscarriage, the pregnancy was likely already going bad at the time of the procedure.  It was difficult for me to read that many rely on that very excuse, gracefully and completely, bowing out of any responsibility for the death of that unborn baby.

Of course, the OB/GYN field tends to be a male-dominated profession, which is another problem altogether.  No disrespect to all the hard years they invested in finishing college, medical school, and post-doctoral studies, but a man cannot ever truly understand what it’s like to be a woman with female body parts; it is simply impossible.  I am a bit of an extremist in this area, because in my opinion, a man has no more business being a lady doctor than a woman has being a professional that deals with male genitalia issues. This is just my opinion, but I’m getting away from the point I was making.

You would think that common sense would prevail in the case of a pregnant woman whose baby literally depends on the thin layers of protection offered by the mother’s womb and the assault of a tool designed to remove cells from inside the very area that was busy forming a mucous plug to provide additional protections later, but it doesn’t.  After decades of following the same antiquated ideas, handed down through generations of trained physicians, they march on with the idea that their way is the only way to go, dragging their patients with them.

What I did discover during my travels across cyberspace, was that there is a small portion of the population that acknowledges there are certain risks associated with a Pap smear during pregnancy, period.  In addition, I discovered numerous blogs, message boards, and various means of postings online that contained the stories of countless women who suffered a miscarriage or other complications that they also correlated with the enforcement of the Pap smear rule.  In most cases, it ended quickly, with bleeding within a day or two before the baby self-aborted, landing the poor mother in the emergency room.  There was also a plethora of other cases, where women were given a Pap smear during their third trimester, and infection was introduced that resulted in pre-term labor.  It’s an absolute crime that there are no studies, anywhere that even investigated the possibility.  Here these women were grieving their loss and were being told that the failure was basically inevitable, and they are expected to accept their fate and walk away, their broken heart in their hands.

Everything that follows is based on actual events; a snapshot of time in my life when I was forced to face something most would not dare.  My determination and resolve, although no match for fate, carried me through.  If my words do anything, I wish them to help those out there who may have gone through something horrific at the hands of a medical professional paid to care for their patient, someone who can identify with even a portion of my story, and to educate the rest on something that is consistently and shamefully ignored, denied and hidden in plain sight.

-Chapter 1-

I sat on the hard, foam surface covered in a thin layer of tissue paper, waiting.  The kind woman who had taken my vitals, informed me that the doctor would be right with me and to make myself comfortable.  That thought was a little amusing since, let’s face it, who in the hell is comfortable in a doctor’s office.  Leaning my head against the exam table, thoughts whirled through my head as I awaited the arrival of Dr. Elaine Beck, my Primary Care doctor.  I closed my eyes and let the low humming inside the room distract me from the fact that I had already waited in the lobby for nearly thirty minutes after arriving early for my appointment, and I was still at the mercy of their own timeline.

As I sat, I made a mental list of questions I had for my doctor.  First and foremost, I wanted to advise her that, following the Pap smear she had given me two weeks ago, I started bleeding and it never stopped.  I had been expecting my monthlies, but two weeks was ridiculous.  It was my intention to ask her opinion of that first and, if necessary, obtain a referral to a Gynecologist who may better address the matter.  It wasn’t just the bleeding, it was the fact that it hadn’t started until I underwent the Pap smear that I was now waiting in the exam room to receive the results.

When the door opened over my right shoulder, I jumped slightly.  I had not realized I had dozed off while waiting, until then and I was caught a little off guard.  Instead of Dr. Beck, the Physician Assistant who worked with her, Audrey Caston emerged through the entry.  She approached me at a leisurely pace, as I stretched and rubbed my eyes with balled-up fists.

So sorry, I must have fallen asleep, I started to fumble through an explanation that probably wasn’t necessary, but I tended to do that: provide more information than was necessary or citing the obvious.  It was a nasty little habit I had when I was nervous and, no matter how hard I tried could not seem to avoid it.  Ms. Caston’s lips stretched into a broad smile that consumed her face at my statement.  She seemed to be a little more amused than I felt was warranted, but who was I to judge?

No worries, Ms. Johnson, she paused for a brief moment, regarding me with amusement in her eyes, someone in your condition surely needs their rest.  I had no idea what she was talking about and my mind suddenly was reeling with possible diagnoses she would give me.  My over-active imagination was pushed into overdrive as she stood there and waited for me to say something in return.  She clearly assumed I knew what she meant as she looked on.

What do you mean? A simple question.  I assumed the worst possible: I had some form of cancer and I was going to be subjected to a series of treatments my body may or may not be able to handle.  That is why I was bleeding non-stop for two weeks.  That is why my body was so exhausted, why I couldn’t seem to get enough rest.  It would even explain the occasional nausea I faced upon waking or late in the evening.  I prepared myself for the most terrible news as she opened her mouth to respond.

You are pregnant, Ms. Johnson.  Based on our estimates, you would be about seven or eight weeks, give or take.  While she was speaking, the room began to spin, and I had to reach down and grasp the edge of the exam table to steady myself.  I felt as if someone had just punched me square in the stomach, robbing me of all the air that was in my body.  It couldn’t be; it just could not.  In my mind, I started to take stock of the situation and was trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for my new state of affairs.  I came up empty.

That can’t be, I said in almost a whisper.  My voice trailed off toward the end which caused Ms. Caston to lean in closer in attempt to make out what I was saying.  My vision began to grey out and I tried to focus on her face, but I could not.  I spiraled down into darkness as my thoughts continued to race.  I was in no way prepared for that news, anything but that would have been reasonable in my mind, but pregnancy was the farthest thing from my deliberations.

When my eyes opened again, I was laying down.  Two faces peered down at me: one I recognized as the nurse who took my vitals, the other was Audrey Caston, the Physician Assistant who had recently given me some not so good news.  They smiled when they saw my eyelids flutter a few times and my gaze found theirs.

There you are, Ms. Caston declared as I started to try and sit back up.  The nurse placed a hand on my shoulder and applied gentle pressure, encouraging me to stay laying back.  My mind was reeling, and I was in a bit of shock, but relinquished to her touch and tried to concentrate on my breathing to calm myself down.

As I recovered from the initial disbelief, the nurse nodded curtly and excused herself from the room.  Once I was fully aware of my surroundings again, Ms. Caston turned her attention back to my labs.  In robotic fashion, she explained what had been tested and that nothing serious had been discovered.  Other than a few inflamed cells, all was in good order down below, according to the printout she kept referring to anyways.  I was told that the Obstetrician I chose would be able to follow up on those findings and not to fret with the outcome as it was quite common, especially during pregnancy to find cellular abnormalities.

Can you tell me why I have been bleeding for two weeks?  If I am pregnant, like you say that I am, why then would I be bleeding for so long.  I started bleeding the evening after the Pap smear I had, and I haven’t stopped, I looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to soothe me yet again.  Instead, Ms. Caston lowered her gaze and flipped through my chart a few times before nodding to herself and meeting my stare again.

I can’t say, Ms. Johnson, she started slowly, obviously picking her way carefully through her words, some women spot after having a Pap smear and, it makes sense that you would while pregnant since the blood is flowing like crazy to that area in preparation of carrying your baby.  Let’s get you that referral and I am sure the specialist you choose will be able to shed some light on that subject.  For the time being, try not to worry.  Try not to focus on that, I don’t want you to have any undue stress, just in case, Ms. Caston’s smile was warm and comforting.  I nodded slowly in agreement but said nothing in return.  I was truly still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.

By the time I left my doctor’s office, I had several pamphlets, my visit summary and a referral to an OB/GYN in hand.  I dragged my feet as I headed toward my white, Suzuki SL-7 that waited for me in the nearly empty parking lot.  As I fumbled with the door, my stomach lurched and started to churn, threatening to expel its contents onto the asphalt below.  I fought back, breathing in slowly through my nose and exhaling through pursed lips in attempt to quell the waves that were attempting to take over.  I lost the battle.

Leaning forward, I heaved several times, a watery substance spewed forth and splashed at my feet.  I hadn’t had anything to eat for lunch yet, which was a good thing since I had just lost everything from inside my stomach.  My shoulders, back and abdominal muscles were screaming at me by the time I finished, and the last wave of nausea faded off into the distance.  Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and making a mental note to wash my hands as soon as I got home, I opened the door and lowered myself behind the wheel.

The light seemed too bright as I sat inside the cab of my car and contemplated what had just happened.  I would have some explaining to do with some, and I literally had no explanation.  My heart was pounding, and my head started aching as I started the motor and backed carefully out of the parking space.  Once clear of the other vehicles, I turned my wheel and pointed the front end in the direction of the exit and carefully pressed down on the gas pedal.  Traffic was a little heavy, causing me to wait for several moments before I could merge into the thoroughfare and head home.

As I drove home, I heard my cell phone chime from inside my purse on the passenger seat.  I dismissed it as I was driving and made a mental note to check it when I came to the next stoplight.  It was a long enough drive home to give me plenty of time to process the fact that I was just told I was pregnant, had no idea how the hell that happened and, oh yeah, what in the world would I tell Chase?  We had just started seeing each other and recently, he had stated that he wanted to do more with me than just have sex, maybe get to know me better.  That was a switch, and let’s face it, quite refreshing, but I had some news for him now that would quickly squash any hopes of a future together with him.  That part made me sad, the rest was just confusing and unbelievable.

Halfway to my house, I came to an intersection known for its incredibly long red lights.  It was my turn to stop and as I waited for it to turn green again, I pulled my cell phone from my purse and pressed the button to give it life.  It wasn’t much, but it was a cell phone.  I couldn’t afford one of those fancy Blueberry phones, like Chase had, but it did have a camera and for me, that was a step up.  When I saw who the message was from, my heart jumped into my throat.

***

Hey there Renee,

Just wanted to say hello and see how things were going.  Looking forward to the next time you come to see me. 

Chase

***

It was a friendly enough message.  Inside my heart I knew that, once I gave him the news, he would no longer be so amiable.  I couldn’t blame him if he hated my guts, but he needed to know, and I needed to tell him as soon as possible.  The more time that slipped by without him knowing, I knew, the worse he would take it.  It would be a hard pill to swallow as it was and if I continued to keep it from him, it would be the same thing as lying, and he would see it that way.  I chose not to answer right away just as the light turned green and I no longer had a choice.  Dropping my phone back into my purse, I eased my car forward with the rest of traffic and continued on my merry way.

By the time I pulled into my driveway in a small town on the outskirts of the valley, my head was killing me.  I killed the engine, grabbed my purse and the Congratulations folder that had been shoved into my hands on my way out of the doctor’s office, and headed inside.  It was darker in the living room, which gave me a bit of relief.  I stood for several moments inside the foyer before entering my house and making a B-line to my bedroom.  Everyone would bombard me with a million questions if they found out and I was just not ready to face the music, not yet anyway.

It was no use.  My best friend in the entire world, Miah called my name from the entryway into the kitchen just before I ducked into my doorway.  Spinning around quickly, I met her gaze as she stood, her hands planted firmly on her hips.  I quickly took stock of her mood, her foot tapped impatiently on the linoleum covered floor as her eyes landed on the pile of paperwork I had grasped in my hands.  Using my head, I gestured for her to follow me to my bedroom, where I assuredly would provide her with the information she wanted.

So, what did the doctor say, Renee?  You did tell her you have been bleeding for weeks, right?  Her questions flew at me so quickly I didn’t have time to answer the first one, let alone the one that came after it.  I looked at her, concentrating on making sure I didn’t freak out and start crying.  Miah hated the waterworks and I had a habit of turning them on whenever I was the least bit emotional, I couldn’t help it.  Angry, happy, sad.  It didn’t matter; all those emotions brought a tear to my eye.  I could feel the burn as they fought to come to the surface and well up behind my eyelids.  I closed them tightly, shutting out the light and the look on Miah’s face as I took several deep cleansing breaths.  When I opened them again, Miah was directly in front of me, obviously abandoning whatever task she had going on in the kitchen, at least temporarily, to find out what my doctor had said.

You are never going to believe this, I started out with the same sarcastic wit I always did, apparently, I am pregnant, and the bleeding is supposedly because when I had a Pap smear two weeks ago, my cervix was extremely sensitive, given my condition.  What they couldn’t explain, and didn’t even bother, was why I am still bleeding.  I didn’t push it and I just let it drop.  I suppose I will just ask the OB/GYN I have been referred out to, when I finished speaking, I finally looked up at her.  I hadn’t noticed, but I was completely avoiding eye contact with Miah as I offered up the information.  Her face was a mix of sympathy, shock and concern.  In all the years I had known her, Miah was never one to have a filter, could never keep her mouth shut, only this time, I had her.  Her mouth gaped open in disbelief as each word came from my mouth and, surprisingly enough, she remained silent for several moments after I finished talking.

Well, what are you going to do?  I don’t suppose you want to do the same thing as last time?  I know it didn’t sit well with you emotionally or psychologically.  I will stand by you though, no matter what you decide, just let me know, she reached forward and pulled me into her arms for a long, emphatic hug.  She stroked my hair with one hand and patted my back lightly with the other.  Miah was referring to my last pregnancy.  Also, an incredible accident, I chose to end that one electively, for several reasons.  Had I not, I would have been in a very difficult position, not to mention I would have been tied to that insensitive dickhead for as long as I lived and, I was not willing to do that.  Besides, based on what I knew about him and his current family, he had very little to do with his daughter and the mother was the source of his constant complaining.  After I did it and was left with the emotional upheaval, the emptiness inside that would not go away, I vowed I would never do it again, no matter what the circumstances.

You know I can’t do that, I returned in almost a whisper.  Miah stopped patting my back and released me from her embrace and grasped my one either shoulder to push me back slightly, so she could look me in the eye.  There were other options she was likely referring to, such as adoption, but naturally, my mind went straight to the heart.  Her features softened as she continued to look on, giving me a few moments to compose myself.

Then I am with you, was all she said.  Her eyes locked onto mine and I knew that she was not kidding.  I was glad that Miah was in my corner.  She was stronger than me, had a bigger voice than me and wasn’t the slightest bit afraid to use it.  I knew that, if need be, she would defend me to the death and I was relieved to have such a great friend on my side.

My head fell back onto her shoulder as she folded her arms around me again and rocked me back and forth, a comforting motion that eased my tension almost instantly.  We stood that way for several moments before she released me, and I climbed on top of my double-pillow top mattress.  She slid onto the opposite side as me as I started to flip through all the documents they had shoed into my hands as I fled the scene, leaving my doctor’s office as quickly as I could.  It wasn’t that I had not been pregnant before, I had three other children for crying out loud, what made it different this time, was him.  Chase would need to know; I would need to tell him and could only hope against hope that it wouldn’t send him screaming to the hills.  Being pregnant was only part of it, I didn’t want to let him go, wanted to know everything about him.  From the moment he walked into my life, everything changed, a light went on and I did not want to see that light extinguished.  Somehow, deep inside I knew it wouldn’t, he was a better person than all that.

-Chapter 2-

It was getting quite late as I lay, staring mindlessly at the television poised on top of my dresser I had shoved into the long closet.  Since there wasn’t much room, I had elected to allow my sister Katherine and her two children to occupy the master bedroom, leaving me the larger of the two remaining bedrooms. I put the dresser inside the closet, and the clothes that hung above, nearly touching the dresser top, were shoved aside so I could get a better view of the screen.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford cable or satellite television, so I had no choice but to watch the DVD’s I owned. Luckily, there were tons to choose from and Miah and I had gone on a quest to buy as many pre-owned DVDs as we could, so we would not run out of things to watch.  Occasionally, we rented a few movies from the video store around the corner, but most of the time, we just watched what we had.

The other room was my daughter Leigh’s.  When my estranged husband and I parted ways, at first, he kept all my kids, the house and even my Nissan Pathfinder that I had received as a Mother’s Day gift and I myself had shelled out the down payment.  Eventually, I begged him to give me at least one of them.  Sure, they would visit, but my children were my whole world and I was having a hard time adjusting to life without them.  Finally, after months of asking, Damian Johnson relinquished our youngest daughter, keeping the others to himself.  I would say she was the most challenging one and he knew that, but at that time, when she finally came to live with me, I didn’t care.

Miah Hunter, my best friend in the world, slept on the couch.  When she called me out of the blue several months ago, crying and telling me her story, I had not heard from her in quite some time.  I always knew she was around, though I had not heard from her in several years, and it was only a matter of time before she came around and contacted me again.  I was the easy one to get ahold of after all since I had remained somewhat stationary.  The circumstances she faced were not great and she had to leave the place that she had been staying.  I told her that I had a couch, and the rest is history.  Since she moved in, things changed, and I was no longer being pushed around and taken advantage of.  For that, I was truly grateful to her.

As I lay there, attempting to concentrate on one of my all-time favorite movies, Gladiator, my cell phone chimed from the table next to me.  I jumped slightly as it caught me off guard.  Nearly dropping it to the floor when grabbed it, I flipped it open to reveal my message.

***

Hey there, hope everything is ok.  I just wanted to say hi and check on you since you didn’t reply to my message earlier.  Text me back when you can.

Your Friend,

Chase

***

Holy shit, I totally forgot!  My mind chastised me for several seconds for forgetting to at least send him a quick reply earlier.  I had been totally absorbed in the moment, the events that were unfolding before my eyes a huge distraction, and completely neglected to.  Kicking my own ass, I began to construct an innocent and very generic message.  Something you would say to someone you didn’t quite know, or in my case, something you would say to hide the fact that you were hiding something from the other person.

It was not my intention to keep my new secret from Chase, not at all.  I was just waiting for the right opportunity in which we could meet face-to-face, and then I would tell him.  The whole mess was complicated, and it was not something that I wanted to let him know via text message.  Instead, I would plan out how to tell him once I had actual confirmation.  I was never a big believer in the accuracy of pregnancy tests. In fact, the last time around, when I was pregnant with Leigh, I demanded to see the test.  It wasn’t until they did the second test at the OB/GYN’s office, followed by an ultrasound, that I could no longer deny her presence.  This time would be no different.  I wouldn’t truly believe until I saw it.

***

OMG Chase, I am so sorry!  I forgot to message you back; it’s been a busy day!  I was driving back from my doctor’s appointment when you texted, so I didn’t bother, but then forgot once I got home.  I am truly sorry, my friend.

Renee

***

I was truly sorry.  It was like I was standing in the middle of a storm, everything a cyclone around me, completely out of my control.  It was not a good feeling, but I was trying not to panic and was trying not to tell Chase until I knew for sure.  Miah and I planned on going over the list of Obstetrician’s that my doctor’s office had given me the next day and choosing one.  There were several names on the list that were