Smile Mighty Jesus, Pulmonary Embolism's Got me Down

Oh, that giant needle is going into my arm? Cool!

When asked about their vision of hell, some people would certainly answer "an ER waiting room." It is difficult to argue against this one. Not only are you waiting. And waiting. And waiting. But then, you are waiting some more. However, Tom Petty was incorrect when he nasally crooned that waiting is the hardest part.

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Open Letter to Tom Petty
Dear Tom Petty,
Contrary to what you believe, waiting is not always the hardest part. Sometimes the hardest part is watching someone vomit yellow bile into a clear ziploc bag. Other times, it is the necessity of touching surfaces you KNOW are contaminated with MRSA. Sometimes, it's listening to someone scream in pain as they are being poked and prodded. In conclusion, Tom Petty, waiting does suck but there are worse things out there.
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I digress.

After being taken back to an assessment room, the doctor spoke to me within 5 minutes. She listened to me, took my concerns seriously, and ordered blood tests to determine the D-dimer level in my blood, among other things. D-dimer is an anti-clotting substance found in your blood. If the levels are high, it suggests the possibility of blood clots. Before I was even notified of the results, I was taken for a CT scan with contrast to see if there were any clots in my lungs. After both of these tests, I waited. And waited again.

When the the doctor had the opportunity to review my results and began speaking to me in low tones, I knew she had bad news. She confirmed the presence of a clot (or clots) in my right leg, which I expected. This is called deep vein thrombosis (DVT). Then she dropped a bombshell: She also found a small blood clot in my right lung, which is called a pulmonary embolism. The process of the clot forming and then embolizing is called venous thromboembolism (VTE).

After I heard "blood clot in lung" I stopped listening and started crying. People DIE from this. People like my very own grandmother. Before I could rejoin the conversation about my course of treatment, I had to take a few moments to curse my terrible luck and (probable) genetic link to clotting disorders. Thankfully, the nurse was kind enough to give me an ativan so I could once again form complete thoughts....

To be continued...
(Next chapter: Treatment)