Hell Week

Hard to believe that less than a week ago, I mentioned life-or-death medical decisions. Also hard to believe that, less than a week ago, I rolled out of bed, showered, dressed and had breakfast, rummaged in the kitchen for stuff for dinner, threw in a load of laundry, hopped in the car, went shopping, stopped at the cleaners, got gas, came home and made a conscious decision NOT to clean the attic, or put mulch on the flowerbed. Hard to believe that last week I could do any or all of those things. Hard to believe that last week was normal.

This week, I'm doing nothing. I wake up and wonder if getting out of bed is worth how much it might hurt. I weigh each action against its consequences. How long can I stand up before my leg hurts? How much can I do before I am tired out? I measure my movements according to the places in between where I can sit and rest. I curse myself for not being organized and for having pants and shirts and sweaters and socks spread out over two rooms, two closets and three dressers. I feel ancient and fragile and far more helpless than I want to be. And scared. Don't forget scared.

I AM slowly returning to normalcy. This morning, my back didn't scream when I sat up. I managed a shower and got dressed without pausing between the two for a rest. I came downstairs and actually made myself a couple pieces of toast and poured a glass of orange juice. I heated up my lunch. I may make a cup of tea this afternoon. Small victories.

I've had issues with my ankle swelling up for YEARS. I got a new pair of walking shoes a week ago Sunday, and while I was trying them out at home to see if I wanted to keep them, the inside of my left ankle swelled up and started to hurt. So--with JC nagging me--I made a podiatrist appointment to see if I'd pulled something or strained something. I went in last Friday and the guy found nothing. My ankle was still swollen, but it had stopped hurting, and I wasn't too concerned. He recommended getting an MRI so we could track down the issue, and to (meanwhile) wrap the ankle in an Ace bandage to stabilize the ligaments. So I did that when I got home Friday evening.

That night, my leg was swollen to the knee and hurt..sort of like shin splints, only all around instead of just in front. I spent Saturday gimping around and sitting with the leg elevated (the swelling had not gone down overnight). Sunday was more of the same, and JC nagged me into going to an Urgent Care center after lunch. I was still thinking a strained ligament or something like that. The doctor said I should get a Doppler to rule out deep vein thrombosis, but the only place available on a Sunday was the ER. So we went to Alexandria Hospital and sat.

I got the Doppler, but not before a nurse noticed (when I got up and walked across the hall) that I had three visible knots on the back of my calf (who looks at the back of your own leg?) and (amazingly) I was picked up immediately and wheeled right in for the Doppler. When I was done, they were there with a doctor to admit me and a dose of blood thinner to inject into me. He said I'd get three more days of injections, and then coumadin for the next six months with regular blood tests to check on the dosage.

So..bottom line: it turned out to be a little worse than they thought. Initially they said I had a clot or clots essentially the length of my leg. On further looks at the Doppler stuff, they saw it was a femoral clot, which meant it was even closer to my heart, and so they needed to treat it more aggressively: TEN days of the injections and coumadin still for 6-9 months. Blood work every two days, tapering off to once a week for the duration.

Sunday and Monday: Hospital, bad food, bed rest, no sleep, general discomfort, LOTS of blood drawn, but stuck there, whether I liked it or not. Tuesday they released me with instructions on how to do the injections and saying "activities, as tolerated" I ended up not tolerating much. That night, my lower back was killing me and I was running a low grade fever--which the doctor told me when I called Wednesday morning, were the exact symptoms of intraperitoneal hematoma, which is a rare side effect of blood thinners, and I'd better come back for a CAT scan and (MORE!!!) bloodwork immediately. Oh, and if those proved positive, I could plan on being readmitted and having to have a filter surgically implanted. This was just getting better and better.

Four hours, some noxious barium drinks, a CAT scan, and several black and blue attempts at finding new veins to poke at, they told me everything was fine. The back was just my ordinary bad back (aggravated, I am sure, by the godawful hospital bed) and the fever--who knows? But...I am home, and actually feeling semi-human. I hate all this stuff, but no matter how much it hurts, it sure beats not waking up in the morning. Which apparently was a very real possibility if I had ignored the symptoms and figured (as I usually do) that it will get better or go away. I am now a card-carrying hypochondriac and will do anything that my doctor tells me to do. Bed rest? Yessir! I am there. How long?

The oddest part is that I have none of the risk factors: no smoking, no drinking, no drugs, no family history of clots or strokes, no HRT, no injuries to the leg, no plane rides, no long confinement to bed, no nothing. This just happened. Out of the blue. And fast. I suppose if it hadn't been so inexplicable, I wouldn't have gone to the doctor at all..but when things happen suddenly, for no apparent reason, it's worth checking out. And fast.

And the take-home lesson from all this? Don't take it all for granted. Don't put off till tomorrow. Don't believe it can't happen to you. Pay attention when something is wrong because it's better to get a negative diagnosis than to find out too late that the "impossible" just happened. I honestly believe that JC and Sarah and Kay and all the friends who said "Go get that checked out" may have saved my life. Thank you all.