When I was in high school, I was put on birth control pills briefly in the hopes of helping with acne and leveling out my moods. Quite soon after, I started noticing pain in my left leg. Walking wiped me out and putting pressure on the leg hurt. My friends teasingly started calling me "Flamingo" because when standing, I would pull my left leg back off the floor. After a few weeks of fruitlessly taking Advil and applying heat, it was decided that I should go see a doctor. They found the blood clot pretty quickly! We all assumed my body was just reacting to the birth control pills, which are known for causing blood clots. After staying in the hospital for a few days, I was released with blood thinners, taken off the birth control pills, and sent home. I never looked back.
So when this fatigue started, I briefly considered blood clots, but dismissed the possibility because there was no pain and I had taken no meds that would cause any adverse reactions. My doctors had recently discovered that I am anemic, and I figured it must be related. So when I went to a checkup appointment, I wasn't expecting much.
As soon as I was called back to have my temperature and vitals taken, the nurse knew something was up.
"You look really pale, hon. Are you feeling okay? What did you come in for?" While she weighed me and took my blood pressure, I gave a brief explanation. Then she slipped the clamp on my finger that monitors oxygen levels.
"Whoa," she said softly. "We need to get you on oxygen!" She immediately ran back to get a tank, leaving me bewildered and gaping.
As she was slipping the cannula into place, my doctor came and gave me a once-over. After asking a few questions and considering my vitals, he put a hand on my shoulder and said, "We need to get you to the Emergency Room, and you can't drive yourself. Can you call your dad to take you?"
Feeling very much like a child who threw up in the hallway at school, I sat in the waiting area, attached to oxygen and sitting in a wheelchair, waiting for my dad. He arrived quickly, my sister in tow, and we all headed to the emergency room. To my chagrin, they insisted on carting me around in the wheelchair. The ER was thankfully not busy, and I was admitted immediately and guided into an examination room, where a barrage of nurses and hospital staff visited me in waves. It took a while each time, as I had to repeat my story, and they constantly asked what meds I am currently on, which is a tall order. I have had so many health problems (Schizoaffective Disorder, OCD, stomach issues, asthma, allergies, anemia) they all seemed sort of overwhelmed and didn't know quite where to start. A young woman with a tackle-box full of needles and vials took a good amount of my blood. I liked her because someone had printed out a label that said "SHARPSHOOTER" and stuck it on her box.
Finally, a kind-faced doctor came in, went through the whole list of questions, and concluded that I needed a chest x-ray and a CT scan. Before each test, the staff confirmed my name and birth-date, and asked what meds I was allergic to. When I reported "Codeine... and Abilify" to the CT scan guy, he chuckled sadly and said, "Allergic to Abilify? That's depressing." I laughed.
A few minutes later, I was back in my exam room, feeling quite nervous, when the doctor came back in. My dad was with me at the time- only one family member is allowed to join you at once, and he and my sister had been switching.
She pulled over a stool, sat on it, and looked at me seriously. "We found blood clots... in your lungs. Possibly other places. I think... we need to get you to Albuquerque. I think they'll be better equipped for your needs. This is, well, a pretty serious problem."
I was tongue-tied, but my dad spoke up. "I can drive her down right now," he offered.
She nodded, but said, "We need to get her down there faster. In an ambulance maybe. I'm going to call the hospital now, and see if they have a bed for her." She slipped out of the room. My dad, the image of calm, stood, gave me an affectionate smack on the head, and said, "I'm gonna go make some calls... I'll send Emmy in."
As my sister and I sat together, I jokingly told her, "They're gonna send me down in an ambulance.. but I think I deserve a helicopter ride!"
Imagine my surprise when the doctor showed back up and told us just that!
In just a manner of minutes, I was being strapped to a gurney and wheeled out to a helicopter. Night was just falling and the air was chilly. They wrapped me in a heavy, plastic orange blanket and loaded me in. A few hundred yards away, my sister stood next to her car, waving, and watched us take off. It was just light enough out that I watched her out the window until she disappeared.
Once at the Albuquerque Presbyterian RUST Center, I was unloaded and wheeled through a maze of hallways. I was deposited in my room, and a gaggle of nurses came in, gave me an I.V. and hooked me up to a bunch of machines. One took pity on me and smuggled me a turkey sandwich. All the while, I was learning to deal with my new oxygen and IV tether, and I came to the realization that any time I wanted to get up and use the bathroom, I had to call my nurses to untie me.
A few hours later, my dad appeared, and he had brought me some things from home. The poor guy was exhausted, and left after a while to find a place to stay. My last thought before falling asleep was, "If someone told me this morning where I would be tonight, I would not have believed them..."
Over the next few days, I met with countless nurses and staff, and several doctors. They performed ultrasounds on my legs and discovered that in my right leg, I had a huge clot, from my ankle to my thigh- a DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis). The blood clots in my lungs are called "Pulmonary Emboli", which excited me a great deal because I've heard of those on medical dramas like "House"! When I expressed this to a nurse, she rolled her eyes at my enthusiasm and said shortly, "You know why they're on those shows? Because they're dangerous..."
The whole hospital stay was a LOT of sitting and waiting, but I did get visits from family, which I deeply appreciated. They brought me books and paper and news of the outside world! After a few days of lots of medicine and shots in my stomach, I was encouraged to go for walks around the floor I was on. Easier said than done! My dad hauled my oxygen tank while I pushed my IV cart, and I could barely go a few yards before becoming winded and shaky. But slowly and surely I made the rounds.
After several days, my sister came down and traded places with my Dad, who went back up to Raton, and she was the one who took me home. Before I was allowed to leave, however, they deduced the anemia had affected my blood enough that I needed a blood transfusion. I've never had issues with needles or blood, but still, it was weird seeing someone else's blood pumped into me. I did have a friend who pointed out to me that it could be a celebrity's blood or something! Maybe I'll get superpowers.
The biggest problem with leaving the hospital was securing the oxygen tanks and machine that I have had to use these last few weeks. I will spare you all the drama, but suffice it to say it was a lot of stressful, late-night driving back and forth... Thank you Emmy :)
I have been staying with my dad lately.. it's where we set up the oxygen machines and it was recommended that I have company for a while... for the first week or two I was pretty useless. It did not take long for all of us to realize hauling oxygen tanks around is not fun or easy, and so my sister and dad got me... KEVIN!
I use Kevin constantly. Unfortunately, it is kind of like hauling an anchor around. Looks like I'll still be on oxygen for a while, but I am slowly becoming weaned off of it. Once or twice at the beginning, my oxygen tubing would get unplugged and I'd have Buzz's reaction to breathing foreign air:
The whole experience has earned me a new nickname from my family: Aqualung! Don't ask.
I had a brush with hospital danger about two weeks ago. I had to go into the hospital to meet with a different doctor about my anemia problems, and while there, she noted my low oxygen level despite Kevin, and she thought I looked pale and sickly, so she had me "transported" (wheelchaired) over to the Emergency Room so they could "draw some blood." I was very, very hesitant because I did NOT want to be admitted again. This is an actual text I sent my sister while they were wheeling me over:
"Shit shit shit shit shit they just brought me over to the ER. To "draw blood" but they're all finicky about my oxygen level. They can't MAKE me stay, can they?????"
I became even more scared when they slapped on a hospital bracelet and pushed me into the deep recesses of the building. I was babbling, close to tears, as I pleaded with the nurses, "They just want some blood drawn! She didn't say I have to stay did she? She didn't! I swear! Just blood!" So they stuffed me in an exam room where I rung my hands nervously. "Sharpshooter" came by again and took some more blood. They gave me a chest x-ray. And finallllllllly a no-nonsense doctor came by and told me he thought I would be just fine. I've never wanted to hug a stranger so much in my life. Shortly after, a nurse came by and told me I was free to go. Before she could read on my chart that I was supposed to be "transported" out, I wrapped myself in my hoodie, grabbed Kevin, and scuttled out of there.
The one upside to that hospital visit? EVERYBODY complimented Kevin!
So here I am, almost a month after that first, fateful doctor's visit. I am feeling pretty damn good. Still on oxygen, and I still get a little out of breath when I walk a long way, but I don't have to give myself the stomach-shots anymore, and I'll just be on Coumadin for a while. The downside is, no one has any clue WHY I got these blood clots now. There will be intensive tests in my future, I predict!
But for now, I can add this experience to my list of things I would certainly not have survived if I lived a few centuries ago...
I know this is a long blog, and thank you for reading! I hope to get back into blogging again. I just took a few weeks off... I'm sure you understand!
Have a Happy, Chocolate-ful Easter!
Sarah
