You Know That Feeling Like Your Leg Is Trying To Kill You?

No?

Well, I can’t say I was anticipating it, either. Nevertheless, here I am. I suppose technically it is a week since the blood clot started to form, it’s only been three days since I recognized the symptoms and went to the hospital. When I say “I”, of course I mean myself, Google, my hypochondriac wife and my medically-trained sister. 🙂

At first, I was reluctant to go to the hospital. When Stephanie suggested going to a clinic instead, I jumped at that. However, none of the clinics in this area were open past 5, and it was already 4:50. It turns out there is an after-hours medical system in Alberta, where you can call in to a number and get connected with a doctor for non-emergency situations. But I didn’t know that at the time, so off to the hospital we went.

To me, my biggest issue with going to Emergency is taking the patient space that someone else might really need. I felt somewhat silly, standing in the triage line, apparently healthy, while people holding bandages to their face or unable to stand at all were in line with me and people were being wheeled by on stretchers. In fact, there was a fellow there who was responsible for directing traffic, and he asked me if I was just visiting someone.

I suppose that is the problem with a silent killer.

Once I saw the triage nurse, I sailed through the next stages. I was texting Tammy at each step, and when I noted my smooth progress, she replied: “Oh good. Should we be worried?” But then things slowed down. Once I was getting lined up for a blood test and then an ultrasound, I did a lot of waiting. The worst was waiting for the ultrasound. The blood test had turned up a positive chemical signal, so an ultrasound would determine once and for all what was wrong with my leg. I had hoped to that point that the blood test would be negative and I would be sent home. But now I knew something was wrong and had to wait a long time in a room with a TV that was emitting a horrible whine.

I knew not all was well soon after the start of the ultrasound. The middle-aged, middle eastern woman running the test was relatively talkative to start, but then went silent and was very attentive. The nonverbal signals I was getting from her were not encouraging.

It wasn’t too long after the ultrasound (and me with only about 5% battery remaining on my iPhone) that the doctors shared the results with me. Doctor Adam and Med Student Matt indicated that since it was below the knee, there wasn’t an immediate danger. Adam was even noncommittal about prescribing me medications. They didn’t really tell me much, other than to make an appointment to see my doctor this week, and follow up with another ultrasound after the medications were finished.

Tammy picked me up around 11:30 pm, with two sleeping kids in the back of the Golf. They had initially gone to Market Mall and Staples to kill time, but went home when the mall closed at 8:00. Tammy brought me a PB&J sandwich and milk. I was starving, having not had dinner before going to the hospital. We all flopped into bed, exhausted.

The next morning, Tammy went to Rexall to fill my prescription. There was our first indication that the doctor at the ER might have soft-pedalled the message. I hadn’t really given much thought to what it meant to take blood thinners, but the list of things to not do and to watch for were alarming, to say the least. Putting a card in my wallet to alert the EMTs that I was taking them if I got into a car accident? Huh? Watch for signs of internal bleeding? Wha????

And then I went to see my doctor yesterday. She is not a very emotive person, and if anybody was going to understate a situation, I think it would be her. But she spent about ten minutes covering what to watch for if the clot got worse/started moving/tried to kill me. She doesn’t want me driving a car. I should wear pyjamas instead of restrictive underwear and pants. No socks with tight elastic around the ankles. Don’t sit at a desk for extended periods.

So now, I think my leg is trying to kill me.