They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die....
Sometime in the spring of 2004 (I don't recall exactly when), I developed a 'rash' of sorts on the back of my left calf. It was kind of itchy, but I thought it was a bug bite, or heat rash. Even when it developed little blisters, I didn't really give it much thought. My mother (who had just previously developed a blood clot in her leg) thought that it looked like it might be a blood clot, and while I was visiting, drove me to a walk in clinic. The diagnosis was cellulitis.. an infection of the tissue under the skin. I was prescribed antibiotics. When I told the doctor what my mother had said, he looked perplexed, and suggested I go to the ER right away, to get a scan... just in case. I asked if I would be admitted, if it was a blood clot, and he said yes, so I explained that I lived over an hour away, and couldn't be admitted.. no one to care for my children while my husband was at work. We compromised and I agreed to go to the ER in my town the next day. Of course, I felt rather silly, so I called my doctor and made an appointment with her instead. She agreed that it was an infection, and that a clot was highly unlikely. I finished that course of antibiotics, but the infection grew, and the rash and blisters turned into an open, weeping wound, which I diligently bandaged at home. Unfortunately, not knowing the -true- cause, this was in vain, and the wound grew...and then I got a small one on my right leg too. As the weeks passed, this weeped more and more fluid, until I was desperate and began to use anything I could find that was absorbant... local drug stores had very little available that could contain the mount of fluid coming from these wounds, and what I found was expensive... I began using maxi pads to absorb the drainage. First it was one.. then two, as the wound got bigger. My doctor kept prescribing antibiotics, I kept bandaging...it finally got to the point that I was changing these pads (2 at a time) 4 times a day.. and still, it wasn't getting better. I was despondant... I grew very depressed, I felt like no one could help me, or stop this...thing...that was wrong with me. My doctor was at a loss. I admit, not proudly, that I had suicidal thoughts. Finally I went to my doctor and pleaded, and threatened.. I needed help NOW !! She recommended a daily home care wound nurse, who began coming every day to clean and bandage the wounds. This nurse told me I had lymphedema...FINALLY....an answer...and a solution.
THIS was why I had swelling. THIS was causing the wounds, and the drainage. And while it is incurable, it IS treatable! I was happy to finally be able to explain and fix what was happening to me. And, it wasn't a blood clot...which had been my fear ever since my mother mentioned it might be.
Treatments were tolerable physically.. cleaning and bandaging the wound (which was not painful), and to control the edema (swelling), tight bandage wraps to help move the excess fluid out of my feet and legs, along with having my legs elevated as much as possible.
(For more information, see my Lymphedema page)
Monday September 6, 2004, mid-afternoon
I was in the living room doing whatever I had been doing.. I don't even recall.. I went upstairs to use the washroom, and found myself huffing and puffing like mad. I had to stay sitting for about 15 minutes before I could catch my breath properly. I thought to myself "Boy, I'm -really- out of shape!".. but didn't really give it a second thought. Perhaps I should have.
Friday, September 10, 2004, approx 3:10 AM
I fell asleep sitting in the living room chair while watching tv.... I awoke with a dry mouth and full bladder. I was annoyed with myself for not going to bed to have my legs up like I was supposed to. I thought I'd head to the kitchen for a quick glass of water, then go upstairs to the washroom, and into bed. So I got up and headed for the kitchen...My kitchen is about 40 paces from the chair, and by the time I got to the sink, I could hardly breathe. My head was spinning, my vision was coming and going, and I needed to hang onto the sink for fear of collapsing. It was just like Monday.. only ten times worse. I thought if I could just make it back to my chair and sit, I'd be ok. I don't know how I made it back, but I did, collapsing more than sitting. But I still couldn't breathe, and began to hyperventilate in order to get oxygen. I was blacking out for short periods of time, and started to panic. Something was SERIOUSLY wrong!
I tried calling out to my husband, upstairs, asleep.. nothing came out. My chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it, and I was hyperventilating.. shallow, rapid breaths. I was cold, and sweaty. My head was swimming, and I don't know how, but I knew I was going to die. There was no question in my mind that my kids would come downstairs in the morning and find me dead. I began to panic, and that only made things worse, and I blacked out again. This all seemed to take only seconds, but looking back, I know it was about 20 mins or so. I'm not sure why, but for some reason my husband comes downstairs, sees me, and asks what's wrong... I tell him I don't know, but am fading fast, do something! He says he'll get dressed and drive me to the hospital.. a 15 minute drive. I tell him there's no time, I'm dying, call 911. He looks at me funny, but calls. I black out. I wake up to someone putting a mask on my face and calling me, rubbing their knuckles into my chest, it hurt. The fire dept is there, giving me oxygen, asking me questions, telling me I am having a panic attack, until I tell them no. Questions, questions...I can barely stay awake, I just want to sleep. The paramedics arrive, and they're telling me I have to walk outside, the guerney doesn't fit in the house.
Two huge fireman grab me under the arms and I'm standing, my legs buckling under me... my mind is going in all directions.. a couple of my neighbours are there, asking what's going on.
I get outside and they strap me onto that guerney and put me in the ambulance, the woman puts something in my mouth and tells me to chew it.. it's an aspirin, yuck. She is trying to get an IV started, and poking and poking, she tells her co worker my resps are 12 and i'm "tachy" so we better hurry. Off we go, and she keeps telling me not to go to sleep, try to stay awake. And all I can think is.. "I'm dying." It's true, you know... your life really does pass before your eyes. You see all sorts of memories that you had forgotten. I thought about my boys, and how much I'd miss them. I was sad, I didn't -want- to die.. but I was also peaceful, and not really scared.
We pull into the hospital, and they rush me right in. Doctors examine me, ask me what happened.. tests, and more tests, constantly on O2...finally, they tell me I have a PE, and I'm very lucky to be alive. Another 5 mins....the doctor says, but never finishes the sentence. More tests, and I am told I have a DVT in my right leg, which is where the PE originated. I am put on Warfarin (Coumadin) a blood thinner, for 6 months.
Tests at the hospital, and subsequent tests by a vascular surgeon to find the cause of the clot show that I have none of the genetic markers that would predispose me to this condition (clotting diseases). I am told that smoking, combined with hormonal birth control (Depo Provera) are likely what caused it. I am told I am not allowed to take hormonal birth control anymore, and to stop smoking. Tests by the vascular surgeon also show that from the clot and/or lymphedema, I have venous insufficiency.
PE- Pulmonary Embolism- a blood clot in the veins leading to the lungs. A clot blocks these veins, so that the lungs themselves get no blood, and therefore no oxygen. Without oxygen, they cannot function, and stop working. Without your lungs, no oxygen gets into your bloodstream, and lack of oxygen means your heart stops working. It is fatal in about 30% of cases, usually within the first 30 minutes.. either by suffocation, or cardiac arrest.
DVT- Deep Vein Thrombosis- a blood clot in the deep veins of the leg
Venous insufficiency- venous (veins) are sluggish, slow, diseased, blocked, compromised, or otherwise not 'working' as they should be