"I felt appalled at the lack of communication"

During the early stages of pregnancy, I experienced some bleeding one weekend. A very helpful and comforting nurse I spoke to from NHS 24, advised me to contact my local Early Pregnancy Clinic (EPC) when it next opened, in April.

I phoned them just after 9am and spoke to a person, whose name I did not catch, and explained that I was bleeding. They immediately told me to take paracetomol and keep an eye on the symptoms, and seemed ready to end the call, without any other questions. They just repeated this line over and over, when I voiced my concern and asked whether I could have a scan. I felt that they just wanted to end my phone call. I felt they offered no reassurance or comfort and made me feel like I was wasting their time.

I was unsatisfied and anxious, so I later contacted my midwife, who told me she'd made an appointment for me to attend at the Gynaecology Ward (Ward 32) at Victoria Hospital the following day, where I would be triaged and possibly offered a scan at the EPC.

Upon attending at this ward (5th floor), with a full bladder as advised, the receptionist stated they had no record of me and I had to explain my circumstances to them. They left me sitting in the waiting area for, perhaps 15 minutes, before I was taken into a room with a nurse  who asked me a series of triage questions. They were very nice, but preoccupied with a new computer system and did not make eye contact with me once. Upon completion of this process, they took me down to the EPC (ground floor) and sat me down on a sofa in a corridor, explaining someone would come and get me to perform a scan.

After waiting for another 20 minutes or so, I was really uncomfortable with needing to urinate so I asked at the desk how much longer I would be waiting. I was told they did not know who I was, didn't know I was even there, and asked why I was. I had to explain my circumstances. Again. I then sat for another 10 or 15 minutes, before I was finally given a scan, and my miscarriage was confirmed.

I then discussed my options with the same nurse who triaged me, and sent back home to make my decision. They were very comforting and very informative.

I confirmed with them later I would opt for a surgical option, and they booked me in for the following week, with a pre-op assessment appointment the preceding day, to confirm via ultrasound if the surgery was necessary, and if so, issue me with the medicine I would need to take.

Prior to this appointment, I forgot where to attend and phoned the clinic to check. They told me to attend at the EPC. When I arrived there, the receptionist told me they had no record of me and I had to explain my circumstances to them. I then had to sit and wait for about 20 minutes before I was told to go up to the Gynaecology Ward. When I did, the receptionist had no record of me, and I had to explain why I was there, then sit and wait for another 10 minutes or so.

Eventually, I was led into a room with a nurse, who had my notes in front of them, and was preparing to give me some medication. They stated that I was to be undergoing surgery the following day, and would need to take the medication. Something in my notes was confusing them. I said I was expecting to have a scan, to see if surgery was necessary. I had to explain my full circumstances to them. They disappeared out the room for a while, leaving me waiting.

Then, they rushed back and stated they had managed to "squeeze" me into an appointment for a scan but that it was in 5 minutes and I had to hurry downstairs to the EPC. They sat me on the same sofa in the same corridor as before and I waited there for another 10 or 15 minutes before having a scan. This confirmed I did not need surgery and I was sent back up the ward, only to be told that I could now go.

During all of these appointments and long waits, I had my family with me.

I felt appalled at the lack of communication between these two departments. Having a miscarriage is common, and must be encountered frequently, yet I was made to have to explain my story over and over and over again, and repeatedly left to sit and wait around, as nobody seemed to know who I was, why I was there, or what to do with me.

This made a distressing situation exponentially more difficult to cope with, and was an incredibly insensitive way to treat a woman experiencing this heartbreaking event. I would expect such a common situation to be dealt with smoothly and professionally, but I was woefully let down.