200th Shot

A shot a day, keeps the blood clots away.  

an anniversary of sorts

tonight as i was leaving work i tugged on my pant leg to let it loose from catching on my left calf.  it is something that happens from time to time - my pant leg getting stuck on my left calf.  after the odd motion, i felt i should explain to my co-workers that my left calf is bigger than my right calf... because of my blood clot.  my blood clot is long gone as far as i know, but the scar tissue remains in the vein, making it difficult for the blood to get back up to my heart.  because of this, as far as my understanding allows, my left calf is two centimeters bigger than my right one.  i measure it from time to time to make sure it is consistent, especially if i am experiencing any leg pain. in that moment, waiting for the elevator with my co-workers, i realized that it was 5 years ago today when i was diagnosed with my blood clot in romania. 

looking back on it, i see it as just a crazy experience, because really it was crazy.  i don't feel much emotion or have much of a reaction.  yeah, i had a blood clot when i was 20 in a foreign country on a study abroad... it was nuts.  that changes though when i look back to read my blog posts and see the pictures of it all.  they take me back to those scary days and make me really think about what happened. 

i remember a distinct moment a couple of weeks after returning to the united states -even after i had been diagnosed, started treatment, and was home with my family- when i was sobbing in my mom's arms.  i had been reading my friend's posts about the experience (he helped me get medical attention and was with me every step of the way while in romania) and his words transported me back to those moments that had been the scariest of my life.  i couldn't handle it. it was too soon for me to be re-experiencing them, it was too soon to acknowledge those moments as reality. 

so many aspects of the experience were absolutely terrifying. it's amazing to me that i could hold it all together, being so sick, half-way across the world. you can look in the archives for the nitty gritty of the story, i don't have it in me to revisit the details tonight. even now, reflecting on those weeks of increasing pain, and feelings of alone-ness and uncertainty, i find myself on the brink of tears.  first, from the feelings of intense fear i can all too well remember, and after more reflection, from feelings of deep gratitude.

how did i get through it all?  i am rather uncertain at times. then i remember the details of what unfolded in romania, then austria, and then back at home.  the little miracles that helped me get through, and stay positive even (why am i smiling so much in the pictures??), and the big miracles that saved my life.  there are truly too many miracles to even begin a list. all i know, is that i couldn't have done it on my own, God was with me.

three years

exactly three years ago i was diagnosed with my blood clot...

in romania. it was a traumatic experience for sure.

i think my favorite version of the whole ordeal is from robby, my field facilitator. i feel like my record glossed over the things that i didn't want to necessarily remember, and robby's doesn't. i often forget how scary it was. i think back and say to myself that was kind of crazy, but re-reading it makes me remember. remember that it was terrifying, remember how scared i was. looking back on the experience it was one filled with love and support from strangers turned into friends. one filled with miracles, absolute miracles.

read robby's account here: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4.

October Thoughts

Don't you just love Conference? I sure do. It is so uplifting to hear from so many of God's servants. What a blessing! I am already looking forward to the November Ensign.

October conference always reminds me of when I was diagnosed with my blood clot two years ago. I was diagnosed and immediately put on anti-coagulants the Wednesday right before conference and I was admitted into the hospital in Bucharest, Romania late Friday night when my conditioned worsened. I was able to download a couple of talks with the sketchy internet connection during General Conference and they offered some comfort during a time when I felt... well, terrified. "Come What May, and Love It" by Elder Wirthlin was one of the talks I downloaded and it was just what I spiritually needed to make it through those tough times.

I am so grateful for the living prophets. They are inspired men of God and they know Christ. They teach us the eternal truths we need to know. God is our Father. He cares for us and He loves us. Through prayer we can council with God and find peace and comfort through our hardest trials in life. We are never alone in our trials. Christ is always there waiting for us to turn to him. I know these things are true. God is good in every way.

P.S. Here is a video of where I lived in Romania that Robby just posted... It's kind of run down, but I miss it!

my last day

today was my last day taking coumadin.

yes, sir!

i have been taking anti-coagulants everyday since october 1st, 2008. i am so happy to be done with the pills, the blood tests, the ultrasounds, and the doctors visits (which cost us over $30 a month). it will be nice to be more "normal." i can eat whatever i want (like i am going to incorporate green veggies into my diet... we all know that won't happen!), i can take medicine when i get sick, and i don't have to worry about bleeding to death if i cut myself.

but frankly i have mixed emotions about it. weird, i know.

first of all, i am a little nervous. i just hope there aren't any complications and that i don't get another blood clot. that would be inconvenient. second, this whole blood clot adventure has really become part of me and i am sad to leave it behind. it's feels like i am abandoning a part of me, the part of me that is also connected to romania, which makes my heart hurt a little. it's hard to explain, but it really does make me sad. my blood clot has shaped me as a person and i feel like now i will be pretending that it never happened. this must sound psychotic... maybe i should start a support group for blood clot survivors (haha).

anyways, even though i'm not sure if i want to cry or run around screaming with delight... i think a celebration is in order none the less. maybe i will buy that colorful swim suit, go out to dinner, have a party with a pinata!, or buy a new spring outfit. maybe all four?!? hmmm... this will be fun.

i think i will wait until the weekend to have a more legit celebration.

who wants to join me?

Almost done!

I went to the doctor yesterday to figure out what to do with my trusty blood clot.

I wasn't sure how it would all go,

but...

My doctor was confident that we could take me off of the rat poison and that everything would be fine.

It is kind of nerve racking to just stop taking the medicine that saved my life almost a year and a half ago, especially if we aren't going to do an ultrasound to see what my veins are doing. But I have decided it is time to start trusting the doctor, something I haven't done for quite a while (evident in the post after my visit in July).

My left leg still fluctuates from being 1 to 2 centimeters bigger than my right leg, but I have been told from the beginning that my leg would probably be like that for the rest of my life. He didn't want to do an ultrasound on my leg because he said some doctors do them and some doctors don't and he is one of the doctors that doesn't (last July I got an ultrasound because I told him I wanted it). He also told me that usually people that have blood clots are only on anti-coagulants for six months and then they are fine. I have been on the medicine since October of 2008, and I am really ready to be done. We also discussed the "high risk" situations that I will have to be careful of in the future, so I think I am feeling good about all this.

Last night I figured out that if I stop taking rat poison that I will be saving over $30 a month in medical costs- pills and monthly blood work can really add up. It will be nice to have some extra money... maybe we can call it "Katie's Shopping Budget." I like the sound of that!

my pill taking days will soon be over! WOOHOO! I can't wait! There will have to be some sort of celebration for sure. I better start planning one...

Where this whole fiasco started:

me in the Bucharest, Romania hospital- 10.2008
wow... there were some tough days

I bruise.

I acquired this bruise exactly one week ago. And yes, it still looks this gross. (I took this picture 25 minutes ago.) I ran into the foot board of the bed. Pretty hard actually, it hurt and was swollen for a couple of days. It has been mellowing out a little, but I can't believe it still looks so disgusting after a whole week.

Jeremy and I were talking about my nasty bruise this morning as we were walking to class. He said to me, "Do you think your blood thinners are preventing your blood from clotting?" I smiled and said, "Well, they're anticoagulants."

Definition of Anticoagulant from Wikipedia:

An anticoagulant is a substance that prevents coagulation; that is, it stops blood from clotting.

Jeremy quickly realized what he said and we laughed all the way to class.

I married a funny boy... and blood thinners do make you bruise more easily.

Part 4

Robby's story ends with this...

"I need to do more homework and less blogging. Katie is home. That makes me happy and sad. Happy, because she is safe. Sad, because she added so much to our group and had a passion to do the work with a good attitude."

It can be found here.


I guess I will sum up the rest of the Adventures since Robby had homework.

I ended up having to stay in the Bucharest hospital for 3 days. I was blessed to have visitors with me for most of my time in the hospital. It was either President and Sora Lundberg, Robby, Dr. Hansen, or Dr. Brady. The insurance people kept telling me that they were going to fly me out that night, and that night came and they were going to fly me out the next morning. That morning came and they were going to fly me out that afternoon. It wasn't very fun. While I was in the hospital the Romanian nurses told me that I didn't need to take the shots that Dr. Brady prescribed me, but Dr. Brady told me I still needed to use them. Every morning and every night I would have to limp to the bathroom, dragging my IV pole behind me, hide in there and give myself a shot in my stomach of anticoagulant. Those hurt. My first day in the hospital, after my night of practically no sleep, was the Saturday of the October General Conference. I was missing it! Luckily, I got a weak internet connection and with Robby's help we were able to download a talk or two. One of the talks we downlaoded was "Come What May, and Love It" by Elder Wirthlin. If any of you thought that talk was written for you, I'm sorry, but that talk was written for me. It was just what I needed to renew my faith and hope. It was powerful! After Robby and I were uplifted, we noticed a professional socer game going on outside my hospital window. Robby watched, described it to me, and took pictures so I could see what I was missing. I thought it was pretty cool. My second day I was in the hospital, I finally saw a doctor. He looked at my leg, gave me some compression socks (I really hate compression socks!), and asked if I wanted to go to Vienna. I told him yes and he said he would tell the insurance and hopefully get me flown out of there soon. (It was a very legit procedure.) I was sure that I was going to be leaving that day, but they couldn't fly me out right away. We had to wait for a doctor to come from London and then he would check my records, my leg, my blood, and listen my story and then he would fly with me to Vienna. But he didn't come until the next day. When I came to understand that I would not get to see those kids in the orphanage or hospital again... my heart just broke. I felt like I had just gotten there. Four weeks of my internship in Iasi, Romania was just not enough. Since we knew I wasn't going to back to Iasi, two students from my group, Rhett and Rachel, packed up all of my stuff and took the 5 hour train ride to bring it to me. It was so nice to see more familar faces that morning. I also got a surprise call from Jeremy while I was staring at my breakfast food! He called Robby's cell phone and I got to finally talk to my fiance! It was so nice to hear his voice. I didn't get to talk to Jeremy for very long because some nurses came in and started yelling at me and rearranging the way my leg was propped up, so I told Jeremy that I had to go. I was so mad at that point. I was "eating" breakfast and I was on the phone and the nurses just didn't care. The nurses also kicked out my friends because there were too many people in the room. It was sad. I had to say good-bye to them and tell them to take good care of the kids that I had grown to love. Hugs were shared, tears were shed, and they were on their way back to Iasi. I think it was around noon when the doctor from London showed up. When he checked my blood he said that I had too much anticoagulant in my system and that I would have to wait another day to fly if the levels didn't come down that afternoon. I prayed so hard that my next blood tests would come back with the results I needed. Luckily, the next PTINR test was just under the number the doctor had said. YES! I was going to Vienna. But not right away because we had to make special travel arrangements for me to fly. My mom at this point had already arrived in Vienna and was waiting for me there. I had been laying in a bed for three days in the same clothes and I was determined to get up and shower before I flew. Robby told the nurses that I wanted to shower, I just wasn't that fluent in Romanian. After trying to tell the nurses over and over that I could shower by myself, I just gave up. There was a nurse about my age that helped me shower. That was super awkward. I swear the last time that I was naked in front of someone was when I was like 5. She held the water above my head while I lathered and rinsed my hair and body. I was grateful to be clean at the end of it all. I worked slowly on packing up my stuff to prepare to go to Vienna. I wasn't very mobile, but I wanted to organize my things. President and Sora Lundberg and their son came to visit me and say good-bye. They were such an incredible positive influence. Eventually the time came when the London doctor came back and assured me we were really going to leave and that the travel plans were all set. I couldn't believe it! The nurses wheeled me down the hall, into the scary elevator, and out to the ambulance. They even left the needle in my hand (ouch) for the IV- thanks guys. The next I know I am strapped on the stretcher in the ambulance and had to just grab Robby's hand and tell him good-bye. It all went by too quick. I didn't feel like I got to express how grateful I was for everything he did for me. So here you go Robby!

To Robby-

Thank you for helping through, hands down, one of the toughest times in my life. Thank you for humoring me by taking pictures of every thing that happened. Thank you for letting me talk to my family and fiance on your cell phone. Thank you for eating my gross hospital food so the nurses would think that I was eating. Thank you for telling the nurses that I wanted to take a shower after being in bed for three days. Thank you for letting me cry when I just couldn't take it anymore. Thank you for telling me that everything was going to be ok.

I was in need and you were willing to serve. I will be forever grateful to you!


-Katie

After we got to the airport, the London doctor took care of everything and just wheeled me around in my wheelchair. We were lucky enough to be given access to the business lounge! It was abounding in goodies- chocolate, chips, soda, pretzels, all sorts of stuff. Here is my post from the lounge. The plane ride luckily was uneventful. I sat at the back and used an empty chair to prop my leg up on. All the passengers watched me as I limped to the back of the plane with the help of an attendant and an big needle in the back of my hand. They were probably so curious. The doctor sat next to me and took my vitals every once in a while during the flight to make sure I wasn't about to keel over. We made it to Vienna and a stretcher and ambulance was waiting for me when I arrived. Great. haha! Well we made it to the hospital quick because they had the lights going. I had gone from everybody speaking Romanian around me, which I kind of knew, to having everybody speaking German! All I knew in German was thank you. Haha. I made it to the hospital and was so happy to see my mom. It was so wonderful! The London doctor gave my Vienna doctor the records and they talked for a bit and then he took of (back to London I assumed). We pretty much blogged religiously from there on out because we had continuous internet connection and not much to do since the nurses wouldn't allow me to leave my bed. So you can read about our time in Vienna by looking through these posts.

Well thanks for reading about my Blood Clot Adventures. I think this was more for me so I could make sure the experience was down in writing.

Have a wonderful day and continue to be grateful for all you and I have been blessed with!


P.S. Wasn't General Conference just great!

Part 3

Getting Katie to Vienna Part 3

We stayed the night in the Mission home. This is where we got to know Sora Lundberg, Pres. Lundberg and their son Joshua. As mentioned before, Joshua was born in Barlad, Romania, and was adopted by the Lundbergs about 5 or 6 years ago at the age of 3. Sora Lundberg saw Josh and fell in love with him and devoted the next few years of her life to the adoption process. I have a soft spot in my heart for those who adopt children from these places, except Angelina Jolie, I don't know about her.

I have a lot of good painful memories about this mission home. It was really weird being back there again. I'd been there 3 years ago, because Dorothy was well liked by President Ashby and was finishing her mission tour and they let us stay there before Andrew and I took the train to Iasi. There is a lot of ambivalence there for me. I was really excited and stressed to go back and see Alex then and I was in the honeymoon stage of a new relationship with lots of longing absences and missing and you know all those romantic things that consume you and you look back later and wonder why. I'm in a good place now, but it was mildly difficult to be in those locations again if I didn't focus on the tasks at hand. It was a symbol of an important period, and that's all.

I spent most of my time there out of the apartment. I was looking for a place to charge my cell phone and it turns out they don't make a charger anymore. That quest went in several different directions and I thought of the triumph of finding the blasted thing, but that never came. I got used to the subway system though and I brought home shwarma. I felt like it was a pretty big deal to stay connected with the school, but I never found the charger.

The calls continued through thursday and Friday. Thursday morning, we went to Dr. Hanson's office, where Dr. Brady gave us a prescription for more drugs and a little more advice for Katie. We went straight back to the mission home and I went out looking for a pharmacy after failing to get the Wii to work for Katie. The rest of that day isn't important, except that I started calling some of our emergency contacts again. Also after a frivolous search, I wish I would have stayed with her.

Friday is when things got real. Katie started hurting really bad. The pain and fear(?) got to her a couple times and I couldn't do anything but be there with her. We called the doctors and they came down a couple hours later. I called home (Iasi) and had Mario make sure two students came down with our passports, some clothes, the charger and all of Katie's things just in case we had to go to Vienna, Austria. I'd heard stories about how things went in the past and so I also knew where we could end up. Also, the doctors were informative about the care she needed.

Katie had a fever of 101 and the pain was spreading up her thigh. I was running up and down the stairs getting information to call SOS, our medical relief program and various errands for the doctors. I called Ashley and Landes and her parents called us. There were at least 3 phone calls going at a time. I started understanding the reason they called our insurance company HTH highway to hell. The delays started there as well. They didn't want to evacuate her without the approval of an approved doctor who would have to see her at Floreasca. Katie was pretty upset about that and I was dreading going back there.

We drove on significantly less crowded streets to the hospital around 11:30. Dr. Brady and Dr. Hanson and I and Sora Lundberg all went and waited for her to be seen. Dr. Brady started talking to the Emergency admittance doctors and giving them the diagnosis. They informed him that she needed to stay in the hospital. This process took several minutes of waiting that seemed much longer. They eventually kicked everyone out except Katie and Dr. Brady. Then they kicked Dr. Brady out. Eventually they put her in a wheelchair and took her to get her chest x-rayed for any signs of the clot moving that direction. Lungs = death.

Dr. Brady convinced them to get her a private room, which after passing by the normal rooms where 10-15 people on beds were lying in pain in the dark, we realized was a blessing from heaven. One of those deep fried chicken tender mercies. With bbq sauce. And honey mustard.

This room looked like America. I don't know if that makes sense, but it did. And the nurses seemed more cooperative and the harshness dr. that followed us left. We spent awhile with Katie and I figured out a plan for tomorrow. I think I was on the phone half the time. Dr. Brady would stay with her, while we went home and rested. He was flying home the next day after all and so he wouldn't be able to stay with her after 11:00AM, which would then be my turn.

Dr. Brady ensured her care would be better as he could spot the facade care vs. the necessary motions. They put an IV in her with saline water and gave her anti-inflammatories. I trusted her with Dr. Brady. He was smart, fiercely loyal, and defiant to the prevailing errors. I respect those things.

Katie is an amazing girl. She kept a level head through what most people would be freaking out about every 5 minutes. She kept her sense of humor and her faith. She took strength from the support of her family and fiance and the people around her. She even had fun.

I'll continue the last couple days in another post.

Original post here.

The story will finish up tomorrow!

Part 2

more of robby's words:

Getting Katie to Vienna part 2

Joseph Smith said something about starting right that I can't exactly remember. That was our big problem at Floreasca. I think we went in the wrong entrance and were looking for the wrong place. Find the Ecografie room and ask for an ecografie dopler. Easy enough right? We walked in and followed the sign to a dead end hallway and they all said it was closed. So we made our way to the emergency room. We stood outside for a minute and then realized we just need to walk in. A lady told us to go to the place that we had just gotten back from. I told her we were already there. She walked down with us to make sure and see if someone would let us in. She joked a little about Katie's limp and kind of urged her to go faster. We didn't really think it was funny. There was no one there. This person told us to go back to the Emergency room. So we did. They told us to get paperwork, so we did. They checked her vital signs and drew blood. I asked if they were doing a PTINR. They said no. I stabbed a bit with broken romanian but then I let them go ahead. They took the blood. They made an attempt at bedside manner. Smile, I said to Katie as they drew the needle, the nurse and I chuckled a little to ease the tension and then I translated. "Look, american blood!" the nurse mused to her colleagues. I told her to be careful, because it was precious. She probably thought I meant expensive though (it's the same word). If I would have done it again I would have said, "Hey look, it's red! What color is yours?" But I'm neither Ghandi nor Martin Luther King. I was also beginning to feel the angry guard dog emerge from me. That probably doesn't seem like me too often, but you don't eff with my interns... They are ineffable.

Eventually we got pointed to the radar... er ultrasound. I had to wait outside, but they spoke english so I felt a little better about her going with them. I sat for a minute and answered a few calls. There were phone calls going on between all of these events between me and either 1) Matt Brady, our doctor/vindicator of medical justice, 2) Sora Lundberg, our surrogate mother, and 3) Katie's real mother or father, duly distressed. I also started noticing the people around me. This is a difficult one for me to venture towards, because I can trivialize our experience or theirs. Ours is a shock, because it was deathly serious and the care was not particularly trustworthy (we were warned of this by Dr. Brady, and it was confirmed through some of our experience). The hard stuff to see on their side was the fact that if they didn't have money some things they needed would never be done. This was the best hospital in the entire city. Beyond reruns of ER and scrubs, this is the best they got. It was a hospital, but for some reason seemed a little more grave. Back to me: I came to a realization on a call with Dr. Hanson that there was pretty much no chance that we would make our train back. I was OK with that. I guess that's when we were introduced to Sora Lundberg (Sora means sister; she's the mission president's wife here).

She seemed a little overwhelmed by our request for some help finding a place to stay for a few days. I would find out later that their car was broken into a couple days before and that they frequently had missionaries in and out for health problems. Sora Lundberg is an amazing woman. She had been to Romania about 25 times for a couple days or weeks each time in the process of adopting their son Joshua (formerly Marian) from Barlad. It took 3 years and the starting of an NGO to place him in their family. Her NGO is called Bridge of Love. I recognized the organization, which was fun, I think I e-mailed her for help with Alex a couple years ago. Her story is incredible and she understood the pain and joy of loving these kids, which was a breath of fresh air for me.

We got the results from her test and this is where things began to change. I read the concluzie. I didn't need to be fluent in romanian or have a medical license to see that it said she had a big problem by the words intinsiv and thrombo in there. Well I had a doctor help me with that one before. We called Doctor Brady and he told us to go get the perscription filled. We would have gotten away too, but we thought we had to pay. We showed the results to the nurses. Everyone stopped joking around after that. They looked over it and told her to go to the emergency room emergency room across from the room we were in (the check you out and stuff emergency room). She got pulled into the room and it seemed like nobody really knew what to do with her, which kind of set me into let's get the f out of here mode. They eventually put her on a stretcher in a spot in the room and I was like showing people the prescription and I was like OK so are you going to give her this and they were like no, we don't have it. I told them we can go to the pharmacie and buy it and give it to her and that we don't need the hospital. They didn't really listen too hard. Then I was concerned, because the beuracracy smell was coming through. I stood next to her as one of the doctors asked her questions and then he told me I had to go sit beyond a curtain away from them. I couldn't hear, but I kept looking and Katie's body language and voice tone implied that she was resisting which relieved me. I don't know why, but the entire experience was comparable to being arrested and detained for several nights, although let's not get ahead of ourselves. When finally, after sitting for awhile and anxiety building sufficiently I lost my patience, I started making some noise. I didn't see that doctor which was good because then I wasn't worried at all about offending him. I started saying "Nu vrem sa asteptam, vrem- sa- PLECAM!" as if I was talking to a disobedient 5 year old (which is the demographic I'm most comfortable speaking to in romanian). Oh yeah that means, "We don't want to wait, we want- to- LEAVE!"

The doctor got defensive at that point and said OK, she has a blood clot, every step she takes puts her at risk for the clot to break off and move into her lung. We need to keep her here; she could die. This is nothing to smile about. This is nothing to laugh about. This is nothing to shout about (which he said as he looked at me). We were in the process of signing a paper in which we were instructed to write: I understand the risks of leaving this hospital. Doctors kept telling her more things to write afterwards which she scrawled quickly and haphazardly as additions and afterthoughts. Of my own will. Including the risk of death. "Any thing else?" we asked. This may have been where the laughing and smiling lecture came in, "Who was laughing when she led us to the radar and took her Sangele Americane?" I thought, but held my tongue. Then we left.

We asked some nurses where to pay. They told us it was free. We figured it was probably because they thought we were crazy for leaving the hospital. We walked to the Pharmacie. I kept hearing, "break off into the lung," in my head and saw a 3D animation from an episode of HOUSE. Too much walking. We went to 3 pharmacies before we found the medicine we needed. We took a half hour taxi back to the clinic.

I felt like we just outran the cops. I can't really emphasize enough how difficult it seemed to get in, get what we needed done and get out of there. We'll come back to the hospital in a later post though.

Katie got a crash course in the administration of the Romanian version of Lovenox, a blood thinner[meaning I had to learn to give myself shots in the stomach... yuck!]. Dr. Brady sobered us a little bit with the gravity of the situation. We were aware of the gravity, but sometimes we have to keep the laughing going. Sometimes I think we take pictures and document things to distance ourselves from the reality of the situation, by becoming spectators in our own lives. I'm starting to get epic thoughts like a stoner so it's probably getting late. We'll come back to this one.

See his original post here.

Blood Clot Adventures will return tomorrow!

In Robby's Words...

Exactly 1 year a go today, I was diagnosed with my blood clot. (so happy 1 year anniversary to me! I guess.) Robby was our field facilitator over in Romania and was with me for almost every part of the Blood Clot Adventures in Romania. He wrote on his blog, in great detail, about the whole experience. I thought it would be interesting to revisit his account. Since the posts are so long, I will be posting one a day until Sunday. Hope your okay with it Robby.

Robby's words...

Getting Katie to Vienna Part 1

It's been a stressful couple days. We didn't really take things seriously until we got here and it's been a difficult process. I got to be a real facilitator for a couple days I guess.

Katie's been complaining about her leg for awhile now. I feel bad that I haven't been more understanding in the past couple weeks; that I hadn't probed more. It took her parents calling me to realize that it was serious. On a leisurely walk to the orphanage is when things started for me. I guess it's been going for awhile for her with pain that no one besides Jesus really knows. Her mom called and told me to get her some medical attention, because there was talk from her doctor that she may have a blood clot. I came in to language a little late and asked Mario to see what I should do first to get medical examinations. She told me I should bring her in to see Dr. Pantezescu, the resident doctor at the orphanage. Dr. Pantezescu had Sera, the physical therapist look at her and he began giving her a massage which only made her hurt worse. He prescribed some lotion and aspirin (bad diagnosis #1). I spoke with Mario briefly and she seemed confident that it was nothing to worry about. Katie on the other hand was emotionally and physically hanging by a nerve. She tries to put on a happy face as much as possible, but every once in awhile she let out what was really going on. I think she was mostly frustrated that no one took it as seriously as it really was. After I sent her home in a taxi, I decided to go back and talk to Dr. Pantezescu. She didn't understand what I was trying to ask her about some medication Katie hadn't told me about until after we were outside. I remembered another Holly-ism or maybe Ashley said it, but I could hear someone's wiser than me voice say something to the effect of, "Cultural sensitivity is fine, but don't worry about stepping on people's toes when your personal safety or health is concerned." I was skeptical that it was a blood clot and I was easily appeased by the naysayers. We planned a trip to Bucuresti though. I went and bought train tickets and we were on a train by 5:30 the next morning with 7 hours planned before our return trip. Plenty of time I thought for the tests to come back negative and for us to get some medication or at least reassurance and come home.

Some of the time was an adventure. Some was mundane. Some was just waiting. Some was us laughing to make the situation seem less than too real.

We got in at 11:30 and I made her get shwarma, because I thought she was hungry and might really enjoy it (because it's like heaven in a burrito), but I think it just made her mad, because we had to walk a bit and it hurt her a lot to walk. Like she had a friggin' bloodclot, man! If she's reading this, I'm really sorry about that. [haha! I was so mad, but it's okay... the shwarma really was good!]

We took a taxi to Dr. Hansen's clinic in Sector 5 I think it was could be wrong. It was a long taxi ride (close to a half hour). They had a hard time finding the place. We saw a bunch of clinics on the side of the road that were built into old blocks. We thought it was most likely one of those. The taxi driver was pretty much ready to drop us off anywhere considering his job mostly done having gotten us into the general vicinity. We finally saw a little gated side street amongst some dirty auto shops and across the street from a couple clinics. When we pulled in and saw this...
...I was pretty sure we were in the right place.

A Dr. Brady who was finishing his residency at Iowa state and who once served a mission out here (96-98) was working as an intern with Dr. Hanson. He was young, tough, and well trained in modern medicine. He was an angel while we were crying frightened, river, dark, drowning.

He did some blood tests, but with a visual feeling and questioning, he said something to the effect of, "My money's on a clot." But to make sure we went to Floreasca [the hospital, pictured below] to get an ultrasound (which was the main reason we were in Bucuresti). He also sent us with a prescription for just in case things came out positive.

The quest for an ultrasound is another story completely and so I'll separate these and continue typing the story in another post.

See Robby's original post here.

The Blood Clot Adventures will continue tomorrow.

bored?

not anymore!

play this game

p.s. i'm going to keep taking coumadin for a while

p.p.s jeremy and i have been married for 5 months! woohoo!

rat poison, needles, and goop

I went to the doctor on Wednesday for the good ol' blood clot.

He listened to my heart and my lungs- they are doing well. Then he looked at my legs- told me my left calf is definitely bigger (I know... by 2 cm, I measure it often). He messed with my legs a little more asking if anything hurt. Nope.

Then we talked for a looooooooong time.

He told me all about blood clots (like I'm a beginner). He drew pictures of how messed up my vein probably is (which he did last time, too- thanks!). He talked about how things were back in his day. He talked about studies that had been done, recent and not so recent. He gave me his opinion about compression socks- I added it to the others I have heard. He also gave me a small lecture on how blood thinner is not the correct term for my Coumadin (or rat poison), because it doesn't actually thin my blood. Coumadin is correctly called an Anti-Coagulant and it stops my blood from clotting. So when I eventually stop taking it, my blood won't suddenly thicken up and form tons of clots...ok. And he told me of all the high-risk activities I should avoid- sky diving, etc. I think that was about it for the idle chit-chat.

Then he got down to business.

He gave me my options, and let me choose: be referred to a lung specialist, be referred to a blood specialist, be referred to a vein specialist (but they are surgeons and will probably want to take your vein out), be referred to my original doctor who is now out of state and now I have different insurance, get an ultrasound (to look at the blood flow in my left leg) and then see if I can stop taking my Coumadin, or just stop taking Coumadin and see what happens.

My doctor was all for the last option of "just stop taking Coumadin and see what happens." Did he know how big my blood clot was to start out with? I don't think so! He didn't really see the point in getting an ultrasound because in almost every case the vein opens up, so we might as well just skip it and take me off of the stuff now. But if I had shortness of breath, etc that he would want me to come in- Yeah right, I would have to go straight to the ER. He asked me how I felt about it. Obviously, I said I would feel way more comfortable getting an ultrasound first.

So he ordered one. Battle won!

The nurse called the Imaging Center for me and they had a spot open that day. She asked if I had a car. Yes. Perfect, Go there right now. Ok, I have to get my blood drawn for my PT/INR test, do I have time? Yes. Ok, thank you.

I got my blood drawn- they use the same vein every time and I feel like they should know me by name now.

I went outside and remembered that Jeremy had the car and he was at work. Luckily, it was close and I had a set of keys with me, so all I had to do was find the car. After 10 minutes of searching in the heat of the afternoon: Bam! Found it! I hurried to the Imaging Center for my requested ultrasound.

A cool, red-headed, freckled face girl (I don't even know her name) took me to the room for my ultrasound. I put on the paper shorts and we got started- goop and all. (They put the goop on a little warming plate these days so its all nice and warm when they slosh it all over you. I was wishing that it was cold because I had just been running around a parking lot searching for my car- yes, cold goop would have been way more refreshing.) She turned the screen towards me during the ultrasound so I could see the veins in my leg. Every so often she would squeeze my calf and I could see the blood go through the veins- sweet! Things were looking good- at least that's what she told me. But she had to check my leg three different ways. There was about 40 minutes of squeezing my leg, adding more and more goop to it, and scanning every inch to see what is going on, while I watched the screen eager to know what it all meant.

When she was done she told me that the blood flow in my leg is looking really good in my thigh and also in my lower leg, but behind my knee the blood clot still survives-ugh. So by the looks of the ultrasound my leg is getting way better! YAY! And then she gave me a little towel to get the huge amounts of gel off of me leg, those towels really should be bigger, and I was off to get back to work. (I was on my lunch break... a really looooooong one I guess.)

So that all happened Wednesday...

And I just got a call from my doctor today- while I was writing this post actually- with my lab results (still WAY low) and also the official ultrasound report. Again we talked for a looooooong time. And after everything- the studies he's read, the questions, the conferences he's been to about DVT, etc- he has left the decision up to me.

I have the weekend to talk to my husband, my parents, and you devout readers (haha) about whether I should continue taking the rat poison or just stop. And then I can call him next week and tell him what I want to do.

There are risks either way. I would go into it all and get you totally confused and not knowing what to do either, but I am so sick of writing about it and thinking about it right now... my head is swarming... and I kind of feel like crying- don't hug me or else I will certainly start.

i take rat poison

today i got the results for my blood test from last week. it turns out that it was way low. my blood was clotting at 1.4 and it is supposed to be between 2 and 3. that means my blood is too thick. so my coumadin dosage has become way more complicated. (hah... its not that bad) i used to take 1.5 mg a day (half a pill). now i take half a pill on all days except for monday, wednesday, and friday. those days i take a whole pill. i also have to go back next week and get my blood drawn again to see if there is any improvement. nothing like getting pricked more often... but they always give me a cool bandaid (like curious george) and they have a basket full of dum dums (i usually take three). those people are pretty neat!

How old am I?

Sometimes....I feel like a senior citizen. These are just my "morning pills" for the week.

i'm running out of blood

jeremy and i went to genetic counseling today to see if our future children will be plagued with all of my genetic issues. i had to get more blood drawn to see if there was anything else wrong with me...and i set a new personal record for number of vials taken at one time:

16

I Eat

My workout plan has failed...

By this time I should have worked out 6 times... Welcome to reality! I have worked out twice, but this failure has nothing to do with a lack of determination. After working out on Monday, my lovely blood clot leg was killing me. It just ached and reminded me of the limping days back in Iasi, Romania. Although Romania was amazing, the limping days were not so much (my buddies were seriously considering buying me a cane).

Needless to say, I put a stop to my rigorous plan to get toned and have turned to extreme dieting techniques to fit into my wedding dress.

Who am I kidding? I eat whatever I want, whenever I want. Evidence: a doughnut for breakfast yesterday after my bowl of Lucky Charms, two bowls of sugary Fruity Pebbles for breakfast today, corn nuts, popcorn, and candy for snacks throughout the day.

I think I am on my way to looking fabulous!

(at least I don't look malnourished)

News: Good & Not So Good

I just got back from the doctor. I had an appointment with my Hematologist. My mom came with me and we waited 1 hour in the waiting room and 30 minutes in the little room to talk to the doctor for 10 minutes. It was ok though, my mom and I just planned out the whole week. After waiting all this time I thought I deserved some good news. Too bad the doctor didn't agree. Turns out that I am positive for the Prothrombin/Factor II/G20210A Mutation on top of the Factor V Leiden Mutation which means I'm even more prone to blood clots. You can click here for some information on my newly discovered gene mutation. I don't feel like rambling on with medical stuff (even though that's what I'm doing). The ultrasound showed that there has been little improvement of the blood clot dissolving since the last ultrasound. The doctor said he thought there was little improvement because the clot was so big. I am to continue taking blood thinners for at least 6 more months while getting my blood drawn at least once a month to regulate my dosage. The swelling in my left leg might be a life long thing I have to deal with if the vein is damaged, but it is still too early to tell since the blood clot is still hanging out. So there you go...

Let's have some good news....please!

JEREMY COMES TONIGHT!
Yay! Please hurry! I need you sweetheart!

Verdict Just In...

My dad is the wonderful parent that blessed me with the Factor 5 Leiden mutation.

I think he owes me an extra big present for Christmas this year.

The results are in....

Thank you so much for all of your prayers and fasting in my behalf. The Vascular Surgeon in Vienna that met with us for a short while told me how lucky I was that I was still alive. I know that the prayers and fasting in my behalf have helped me immensly. I know that I am not merely lucky, but I am very blessed. Thank you for all of your love and concern. Now to the medical report...

I tested positive for the Factor V Leiden mutation. This means that I am prone to blood clots and the rest of my family gets to join me in the blood testing fun. The Doctor I saw today has ordered some more blood work to be done and also another ultrasound in December. I will go see him at the end of December to see if the clot is still there and to get the results of the blood tests. If the clot is there I will continue to take Coumadin every day and we will check later to see if it has dissolved. If it is not there then I will be homefree, but I will still have to take a baby aspirin everyday to thin my blood. I will probably have to take a baby aspirin everyday for the rest of my life, but that is easy. I just pray that the blood clot will dissolve by the end of December. That would be so nice if I didn't have to worry about it anymore. The Doctor also said that I didn't have to wear my favorite stockings unless I noticed swelling and that I could ease back into my normal day activities. Yay!

Here is some information pasted directly from good ole' Wikipedia about the Factor V (roman numeral 5) Leiden stuff: Studies have found that about 5% of caucasians in North America have factor V Leiden. The disease is less common in Hispanics and African-Americans and is extremely rare in people of Asian descent. Up to 30% of patients who present with deep vein thrombosis (DVT) or pulmonary embolism have this condition. Factor V Leiden doubles the risk that a person will have a DVT during their life, but it is unclear whether these individuals are at increased risk for recurrent venous thrombosis. While only 1% of people with factor V Leiden have two copies of the defective gene, these homozygous individuals have a more severe clinical condition. The presence of acquired risk factors for venous thrombosis -- including smoking, use of estrogen-containing (combined) forms of hormonal contraception use, and recent surgery -- further increase the chance that an individual with the factor V Leiden mutation will develop DVT. Women with Factor V Leiden have a substantially increased risk of clotting in pregnancy (and on estrogen containing birth control pills or hormone replacement) in the form of deep vein thrombosis and pulmonary embolism. They also have an increased risk of preeclampsia, as well as miscarriage and stillbirth due to clotting in the placenta, umbilical cord, or the fetus (fetal clotting may depend on whether the baby has inherited the gene). Note that many of these women go through one or more pregnancies with no difficulties, while others may miscarry over and over again, and still others may develop clots within weeks of becoming pregnant.