Above Ground

Ok, so January was interesting. I spent the first week of it in the hospital, and the second week at home. This past week, I returned to my 'normal' life, which included going to work, a follow-up doctor's visit, blood work, getting into the car and driving solo, a quick drive by and 'hi' to Manfriend and his mother (the visit lasted all of 10 minutes before I felt tired and returned to my sofa at home) and going to my parents' house to see my sister and the most adorable child on the planet, my niece, Miss Lily Isabel.

I have an uncle, who when I get on the phone and ask him how he is, he always responds with the witty retort, "I'm above ground." We both laugh, even though there's still a cringe moment associated with the response, as he's been the recipient of six angioplasties. No, that's not a typo - SIX.

Well, peeps, I'm here to tell you that being above ground is a very, very good thing. I am grateful to have received excellent care at the hospital. I am grateful to have had the support and concern of my family, friends, Manfriend and his family and friends. I am grateful to be home with my nutball dogs. I am so happy to be able to make goofy faces at my niece and hear her giggle.

I'll be blatantly honest: None of what happened to me hit me until I got home. I made an error in judgment and started to read about DVT (deep vein thrombosis) and PE (pulmonary embolism) on the 'net as soon as I got home. DVT - ok, not bad. Not great - but not bad in and of itself.

The complication of having a PE though, not so much. Every web site said the same thing: "life threatening."

On that day of research when I was home, I looked at my dogs, who were sleeping comfortably next to me on the couch, and I thought: Who would they go to? Sure, my parents and Manfriend were great about taking care of the dogs: stopping in each day, feeding them, giving them people time. But that was for seven days. If I wasn't here to return to them, who would they go to? I didn't have a will, because I was 36 and healthy. That's when it hit me. And I cried for about an hour, hugging the both of them, realizing I was scared for them, and yet so grateful to be here and not...elsewhere.

I am grateful for so many things right now. Despite a weird beginning to 2009, I feel blessed. This is my wonderful life, and I take nothing for granted in it.

Metallica Convert

My first post-illness event was Metallica, and lemme tell ya' what: They were AWESOME! (Photo is courtesy of my Manfriend's friend.)

I just have to say that my last concert was Jimmy Buffett, so this had a little different vibe to it. Manfriend and I went last night, and I didn't know what to expect. Even Machine Head and The Sword, the two opening bands, were quite good. (Update: According to Manfriend, I was delusional. Apparently I only saw Machine Head. My apologies to The Sword...)

They played some good ones (okay, so I know like three songs, and they played two out of three): Enter the Sandman and The Unforgiven. And they played songs from their new album, Death Magnetic, including That Was Just Your Life.

What I found interesting was the gamut of fans. They had people our age (mid 30's), the 20-something set, people in their 40s, and the luxury suite next to us contained parents with their kids aged 8 - 10, who were headbanging along to each of the songs. Of course, since we're in Philly, one of the sections started cheering for the Eagles, and the crowd went nuts.

One of the things we missed was the lead singer bringing out his daughter and having Philly sing Happy Birthday to her.

I love this town!

Graceland Revelation: Thank you, Lisa Marie

No, the revelation is NOT that I like peanut butter and banana sandwiches (seriously - they wondered why Elvis died young?). But Graceland's Lisa Marie Presley, along with a hematologist from my hospital stay, provided some insight into a previous issue that leaves me a little on the speechless side, and a lot on the hopeful side.

As part of the littany of questions I had to answer, a hematologist at the hospital asked me if I had every had any surgeries. I replied that I had had two, due to miscarriages. He replied, "You know, the miscarriages may have been due to a clotting issue you might have."

No, I didn't know that.

Yesterday, my best friend J calls me. I had told her the hematologist story, and then she saw this news:

PHOTO EXCLUSIVE: Lisa Marie Presley's Twin Baby Girls!

I'm like...oookaaay. What does that have to do with me? Then I read it. Here's an excerpt:

"I really wanted these babies," says Presley, 40, who tried for two years to get pregnant before conceiving the twins.

"My blood was too thick and would clot, which caused several miscarriages," she tells PEOPLE. "The moment I took blood thinners, I got pregnant."

I just stared and stared at these two lines in the text. Could this possibly be why I wasn't able to carry to term? While all my blood tests came back and said my blood did not show any signs of hypercoagualative states, this still could be the answer to all of my questions!

As my friend J said, while I went through Hell for a week, nothing but good can continue to come from the experience. I can only hope.

Now, does that mean I'm going to run out and get pregnant right now? Uh, NO. Let me be clear: No. With a side of no. With a T-shirt that says No.

But, what this means is that when I am ready, this might be something I need to consider. I will be on Coumadin for a year, but while it is the blood thinner of choice, it is also not good for developing babies. So, if I would want to get pregnant in the next few years, I may have to re-visit this topic and determine if heparin is the way to go.

My 2008 Hangover

Wanna ask me how my 2009 is going?

I've started off the year with new vocabulary. I learned the meanings of Deep Vein Thrombosis, Pulmonary Embolism, Greenfield Filter and May-Thurner syndrome.

So, last Friday, January 2, 2009, I wake up and I am in serious pain. My left groin is throbbing. I get up, thinking I pulled a muscle. Nope. Can barely put pressure on the leg to walk to the bathroom. "This is fun," I think to myself. An hour later, I notice my entire left leg is swollen. Hmmm. That can't be good. I tell Manfriend I don't feel well, along with the symptoms, and he suggests a doctor's appointment.

Now, no offense to doctors, but I can't stand going. I have to be uber-sick.

Apparently, I was uber-sick.

By the time I got to my 1:45pm appointment, my entire leg was not only swollen, but it was purple. My doctor took one look at my leg and said go to the emergency room immediately. I drove myself there, they took one look and said, ok - you're staying.

Again, not one for doctors, I wasn't happy with this. What do you mean, staying? For how long?

That depended on the ultrasound of my leg.

I have the ultrasound done, and the technician took one look at me and said, "This isn't good. Are you short of breath? How do you feel?" I reply other than my leg hurting, I feel fine. She informs me I have a blood clot that stretches from my knee cap to the top of my left groin. Ok, that really didn't sound good. With that, I was admitted to the hospital. I called my parents, Manfriend and my best friend, J, who all equally freaked out. Manfriend was the first to arrive. Then the parents. They saw the leg, and all of them freaked out more. I'm placed in a hospital room, and given Lovenox and Coumadin.

The next day, the nurse administered the Lovenox shot, and something happened. I felt like someone had shoved long fingernails into my chest. Ok, that's definitely not good. I get a CAT scan. Turns out some of the enormous clot in my leg broke off and entered my lungs. It did not, thankfully, reach any part of my heart. Otherwise... I might not have been here to type this post.

The CAT scan also brought other news: I don't have cancer. That was a freak-out moment. "What do you mean, I don't have cancer? Since when were we looking for CANCER?" I also have a cyst on my right ovary. Oh, goodie.

After the lovely pulmonary embolism revelation, the doctors inserted a Greenfield filter via my right groin. (Being a sci-fi geek at heart, this is fascinating to me. It kind of looks like a freaky metal spider out of The Matrix movies. ) The Greenfield filter is in place to ensure if I do get blood clots in the future, they do not travel to my lungs or to my heart. So far, the Greenfield filter is my favorite thing that has come from this.

The good doctor also informed me I would have a pulmonary breathing study, a venal exam, and several blood tests to determine if I had a blood clotting disorder.

The next day, I am administered the pulmonary breathing test, which consists of taking a deep breath, holding it in, holding my nose and simultaneously breathing out as hard and as long as I can into a plastic tube, and then sucking in breath again. My tests were within normal range considering I had a pulmonary embolism.

A couple of days later (I think it was the following Tuesday), I was taken down to a place called Interventional Radiology, where they asked me to lie on my stomach as they took pictures (this was the venal study), and then with some local anesthetic, they inserted a catheter via the back of my left knee. The catheter inserted had tiny holes in it. Attached externally, the doctors plugged in two IVs, one for heparin and one for something called TPA. These were both used to bust up the ginormous clot in my leg. Here's the kicker: I had keep my leg flat for 24 hours. This led to a lot of back pain and a lot of Dilaudid, a serious painkiller of which I took full advantage. It also messes with your head. At one point, I was convinced someone was stocking shelves all around my bed. Manfriend also said I got into an imaginary argument with him about Indians, as I asked him, "What about the Indians?!?!" Yeah. Nothing but fun and giggles.

The next day, I was carted back down to Interventional Radiology, where they said the treatment was working well, but they wanted me to remain on it for another day, which meant another day of lying flat, and more Dilaudid, and one shot of Ativan, because my nerves were completely frayed. One note, I got to see the Greenfield filter. X-rays of your body are also kind of cool.

More Dilaudid. More Ativan.

My final day in Interventional Radiology, I got to see more pictures of my leg, and it looked like it was all clear. They removed the catheter, but told me I had to remain on the heparin for a while.

Two days ago, Friday, January 9, I was sent home with a Lovenox kit (which I hadn't looked at until I got home and realized it was the Spanish version of the literature), compression 'leg warmers' (that's what they look like! I feel like I can relive my 80s childhood!) and prescriptions for Lovenox (which came in syringes), Coumadin, Prilosec, a follow-up ultrasound, and PT/INR blood tests to check my "levels." The doctors and nurses wished me luck, and one nurse continually reminded me "someone was watching over me last Friday" and "I had no idea how lucky I actually was."

After all the blood tests were completed, it was determined I do not have a blood clot disorder. I was told that I have something called May-Thurner, which means that on my left side there is an artery that crosses over a vein. This is normal in most people. However, in the case of May-Thurner, as I understand it, the artery compresses the vein, which can sometimes lead to DVTs.

I am home now, and grateful to be at home. My parents, friends and Manfriend have all been wonderful.

I am still getting used to the concept that I am not invincible. I was all gung-ho on returning to work this Wednesday, but I'm not so sure after yesterday. It took me a good two days to type this post. The Lovenox makes me dizzy and it gets difficult to look at a computer screen for too long as a result. Ironically, my left leg feels like nothing happened to it, but my right leg is another story. Due to the Greenfield filter insertion, my right groin and surrounding area is very tender, which makes it difficult to sleep and to get comfortable. I feel run down after showering. Yesterday was a big day, as I took my first shower post-hospital stay (the word "orgasm" comes to mind), paid my bills, fed the dogs, had my parents and my friend L came over with her five year old daughter (who is a riot, very well behaved, and along with my niece Lily makes me want to have kids of my own) to visit. By the time they all left, I felt like I had run a marathon.

On a positive note, I lost seven pounds while in the hospital, so I'm at least tackling one of my New Year's resolutions.

New Year - Old Resolutions

Thank God it's 2009 and 2008 is OVER.

And now, the dreaded resolutions.  Personally, I'm not big on resolutions.  While there are good intentions initially, I find it rare that people actually follow through with them.  I'm one of those people.  

But, this year, I am going to really try to keep to them, and there's motivation involved.  There's a website called StickK, where people can register, list their resolutions, assign a coach to make sure they are making progress, and even wager money, so that if the resolution isn't performed, the money can go to a favorite charity...or a least favorite charity (I think it's referred to as an anti-charity).  

With this in mind, I have three resolutions:

1. Lose 20 pounds and maintain the loss throughout the year.
2. Write the manuscript for the book.
3. Hand-write letters to people throughout the year.

I have to register these on the site, and list 'coaches' for each one.  I'll post the progress on the blog throughout the year.  

Happy New Year!!!