True confession: I've never been the healthiest person. I've been healthy in that I try to eat fruits and veggies daily and take a multivitamin. But as far as actual activity goes, there's a lot more I can do. That was one of the motivators I had before joining a virtual race online. If you knew me, you'd know that I'm not the type of person to sign up for things like this.
The program I chose seemed fun. I signed up to walk or run 500 miles this year. The race itself is tied into Sesame Street — and if there's anything that could lift my spirits after the chaos of 2020, it's a Muppet. I figured that having a motivation to exercise would be great. Plus, by reaching 500 miles, I'd be awarded a pin with Grover on it. (Grover is the best, in case you didn't know.)
In late January, it became harder to get outside. Aside from the weather, I suddenly started feeling a weird shortness of breath. I remember one specific time I was walking around the block and literally didn't think I'd be able to make it home. It was a strange experience, but I figured it was probably a sudden cold or maybe, at worst, a case of bronchitis.
The problem didn't go away.
In fact, it actually got worse. Even going up a flight of stairs had me catching my breath. And that's when I thought that maybe it was COVID-19. While my husband and I have been very careful this last year and are big fans of masks, you never know.
A few more days passed, and I was finally ready to get tested for the coronavirus. Having avoided most doctors up to that point, this situation was like no other. I had to call into the office to let them know I had arrived. The office itself seemed sterile yet empty. The walk down the hall into the room — which pretty much just included a cot and a chair — was hard on my lungs.
The good news is that I was negative for COVID-19. The bad news was that my doctors feared the worst. Since I was currently taking hormonal birth control pills, they told me it was possible that I had blood clots in my heart or lungs and needed to be seen for a CT scan immediately.
I admit, I thought the doctor was being a bit dramatic.
I mean, I'm 37 — and a fresh 37, at that. I'm not the youngest person in my town, but the thought of blood clots seemed a little far-fetched. I tried not to let it get to me. My husband, who's quite wise and good at talking me down, said it was probably just a small respiratory thing that would go away with some meds from the pharmacy.
They wasted no time scheduling the CT scan. The second it was approved by insurance, my doctor's office literally called me and told me to call the imaging center as soon as possible. When I did, the receptionist seemed a bit concerned. "Based on your symptoms, you need to be seen right now," she said. That's when I realized that this was big. I hadn't even eaten breakfast yet, and she had advised me not to, which also made the situation tough. I was confused, worried, and also quite hangry.
Again, my husband was there to calm me down. He waited with my daughter in the parking lot for support as I went in and got scanned. Based on the severity of the situation, they read my results while I was still in the lobby.
It was blood clots. They wanted me to go to the ER immediately.
Suddenly, things became real.
While I cried, the words of the women at the imaging center kept going through my mind. "If you don't go to the ER now, this could be fatal." For the first time, I was literally scared for my life.
I lost both of my parents fairly young — I was 19 when my mom died, and my dad just died last year. There are so many memories they missed. But my daughter is only 3 — too young to understand the meaning of death. She wouldn't even remember me. That, itself, led to the most tears. I can't imagine my daughter trying to piece together who I was based on selfies we took and stories I wrote online.
I was diagnosed with pulmonary embolisms, a term I'd never thought would be part of my life at the moment. I was also one of the youngest people in the HVU, or Heart and Vascular Unit. After a few hours in the ER, where I watched a fuzzy version of the Home Shopping Network and texted my family, I was moved into a room. They told me that I'd be staying at least overnight. That was huge — I've literally never spent the night away from my daughter before.
The hospital staff put me at ease.
While I forgot to give him a shout-out in the hospital's post-stay survey, Justin was the nurse who first saw me as I entered the room and was also the one to discharge me after a night. And even the night nurses put me at ease. In a way, I felt like I made hospital friends. But I was likely just a change of pace. As Justin told me, he didn't usually see a ton of 30-somethings during his shifts.
What happened after that was a lot of Googling and texting. I was put on blood thinners and told that that's pretty much the cure for things like this. But I was told over and over again about how I was lucky — how they've seen people easily die from this. And that's the unfortunate truth. According to Science Daily, 100,000 to 180,000 Americans die from pulmonary embolisms every year.
Doctors believe it was the birth control that did it. While I'm not a smoker currently, I did smoke cigarettes before getting pregnant with my daughter. I figured that I was in the clear, as all of the birth control ads make it seem as if those at risk were just smokers over the age of 35. I had no idea that someday I'd fall into this disclaimer that I've heard so many times before.
The clot also came at a bad time.
There's no "good time" or "right time" for a blood clot, but now was especially tough. My sister and I are still in the process of getting my dad's house ready for sale. Every visit has included a lot of introspection. Our entire childhoods resided in that house, and in getting rid of memories and clearing everything out, it was a strange reminder of both of my parents' deaths. So really, "dying" had been a hot topic on my mind before any of this even started.
My dad — whose house was roughly three hours away from my own — lived a simple life and had the room to keep storing my mom's things. So this clot happened as I've been cleaning out my mom's old purses and coats and feeling sorry for how much she's missed in my life. I'm still grieving, and days are very hard. Knowing I almost put my daughter and husband in an even harder situation is something I can't stop thinking about. While it was caught in time, I can guarantee you that if it weren't for COVID-19, I would have held off even longer in seeing a professional about it.
I've since booked an appointment with a hematologist.
I had to give up a ton of my blood to make sure this wasn't a genetic condition that caused it. If it had been, I'd likely have to be on blood thinners for life. Luckily, it doesn't seem to be the case. Since being hospitalized, I've stopped taking the birth control pill. After three months of being on blood thinners, they'll scan me again to see if the clots still remain.
The whole ordeal happened so quickly. In one moment, I was laughing with my husband at the audacity that the doctor would throw "blood clots" in as a possibility. Then smash cut to being admitted to the hospital.
The mental issues it has caused are way worse. Oftentimes, as I try to fall asleep, I have the panic of "What if I don't wake up?" Knowing that very well could have happened if I had delayed my scan by just a day or two is horrifying to me. It has also made any symptom I have feel like it means something worse. I think, with time, that will ease up a bit.
But there's light in every journey.
There's also good news. It made me appreciate what I had in my life even more. I realized how much I couldn't wait for my daughter's milestones, and it made me appreciate the fact that my husband had no trouble dropping everything when it came to my health. Even before we knew I had blood clots, he didn't hesitate to be there for support. Despite all of the bad things that have happened throughout the year — both on a personal level and worldwide — it was a reminder that there's still so much good.
Right now, I'm still alive. I was given another shot. I urge all of you — especially the women out there who often have a hard time prioritizing themselves — to go to the doctor or find an urgent care clinic if something seems wrong. Literally, my only symptom of pulmonary embolisms was shortness of breath. It was very easy to write off.
Medical bills can be very expensive, but your life is worth it. Thanks to trusting myself, now I can continue running that virtual race and working harder toward my healthy goals. That Grover pin is now back in sight.
Pulmonary embolisms, in general, are a big threat. And they're becoming more prevalent. The American Heart Association states that death by pulmonary embolism has increased by 23% from 2008 to 2018 for people ages 25 to 64. I'm just grateful that I'm not included in that statistic. I'm a clot survivor, and I can now fully advocate for others to prioritize their own health.
