She told me to get to the ER right away because I was the very lucky survivor of DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) resulting in a pulmonary embolism (blood clot in the lungs). I woke my husband and started on the life journey of blood thinners.
At first I was scared that the slightest paper cut would cause an immediate bleed out, but now, it's become routine and I don't think about it. In fact, the only down side is the ban on leafy green vegetables and the med-alert bracelet I wear 24/7.
There are quite a few of us on blood thinners, so our doctor has set aside various times for walk-in PT (Prothrombin Time -- a measure of how long it takes blood to clot) tests. Mine have been routinely good, so after the test, I treat myself to a small spinach quiche.
Yesterday was such a day.
There were six or eight people in the waiting room when I got there. It's not usually a long wait because the test only takes a minute or two. We were all sitting quietly or leafing through a magazine when one of the women started to tell her companion about how disappointed she is in her new "government subsidized housing for seniors" because the people living there aren't at all friendly as were her neighbors in her old home.
All they do is whine and complain, she said and then started to say something about a neighbor who's 78 years old. At that one of the other women in the room, says, "78! Why that's young!" We all started laughing and I said, young and getting younger by the day!
Then we all started telling amusing stories on ourselves and laughing, even some who looked like they were in great pain and hadn't laughed in a long time joined in. Not everyone in the room saw the joke and a couple of clods had their long disapproving faces on, but then some people can't be helped.
It's hardly a news flash that laughter works. The hard part is seeing something to laugh about when so much of one's life is lived in pain and fear. Add to that worry about finances and it's easy to see why laughter isn't part of many lives.
8 comments:
Lucky you !
You've joined the "every extra day's a bonus" club - assuming that you weren't already a member.
It's the only club that would have me as a member, that I am proud to join.
Two years ago, nearly to the day, our across the street neighbor called my wife, who was then in the final throes of nursing school.
I overheard the other SWIPIAW go immediately into the health professional diagnostic mode, recommend an immediate visit to the ER, and volunteered to take her.
However, as her husband's office was only a few miles away he came home and took her to the hospital.
Where the pulmonary embolism reared its ugly head and killed her, despite being in the ER and surrounded by all the best modern medicine has to offer.
My doctor told me that I was the only one of her patients with whom she'd had a conversation after a pulmonary embolism. All the rest of them died.
If that is enough to pour ice water down my spine, I can scarcely imagine what it does to you.
Actually, I am no less confused about what happened that night than I was then.
I like your positive attitude. I refused to join any breast cancer support groups because the members seem to see themselves as victims. Like you, I see myself as a grateful survivor with so much to enjoy and laugh about. Keep well.
Couldn't agree more about support groups and psychology/psychiatry in general. There may be a place for it, but I haven't seen evidence of it doing much good and lots of evidence of doing harm, to wit the outrageous dosing of young boys with psychotropic drugs because they're "hyperactive" aka acting like little boys.
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