(This is cross-posted to my LJ, if anyone cares.)
So I went for my annual physical last week - last Thursday, to be precise. When it was over, I mentioned that my left lower leg, ankle & foot had been swollen for about a week. Neither I nor my family thought much of it, as that leg’d been swollen once before & the vascular doc hadn’t found anything. We figured that this swelling was the result of irritated lymph nodes or some such thing, as I’ve had a buttload of surgery on my legs.
My doctor, being the thorough internist that she is, was somewhat concerned: The fact that I’d been on the Pill for the last 4 months in combination with the fact that my legs are pretty sedentary (I use the wheelchair) made her worry more about the remote possibility of a blood clot than she would if only one of those factors were present. She sent me right over to another office that specializes in sonograms & Doppler radar…stuff… to have both legs Dopplered from groin to ankles.
I assume you can sense what happened next.
For those who’re slow on the uptake: Sure as shit, there was, indeed, a blood clot. It was rather large, I found out today. It stretched much of the length of my leg. Yummy, I know.
I didn’t know that then; all I knew was that my dad had to take me to the emergency department of the local hospital, where I was poked four times by this stupid woman who refused to believe that she couldn’t get a vein. Once, she inserted the needle, pulling it out when she couldn’t get a flow. Well, she must’ve blown the vein; when she pulled that needle out, I gushed. I then got another tech; she got me right away. I don’t fault the first for not getting a vein; I’m a hard stick. I fault her for her hubris & for telling me “I’m pretty much it” when I intimated that perhaps we should call someone else in.
Anyway, the hospital was relatively quiet. My roomate was a nice older lady in her 70s or 80s who’d been there two weeks for pneumonia. She left on Saturday - I was alone in the room for the rest of my stay.
It’s kinda funny; those who came in (nursing staff, nurses’ assistants, whomever) asked my age & why I was in. I forgot that most 20 somethings aren’t in-patients. When I expressed amusement at the staff’s asking my age I was informed that the floor rarely houses young adult patients; I was a novelty. The staff I met is generally on the young side, so they appreciated my being there. I even watched five minutes of “Showtime at the Apollo” with a guy my age who was doing some overnight cleaning. 
I also saw a higher percentage of male nurses than I’d seen in previous hospital stays - I had two male nurses & at least one male nurses’ assistant. I thought that was really encouraging. And they were all eye candy! Come to think of it, the female staff & the male physical therapist were attractive as well. Maybe it’s a requirement - gotta be aesthetically pleasing to be on the nursing staff. 
Only sucky thing about having a male nurse was that I preferred a female to help me pee & such - took a bit longer to find an available female.
I spent Thursday evening 'til this (Monday) evening with my legs elevated straight up in a “V” angle from my pelvis. I got twice daily injections & twice daily pills to help thin the blood. The injections were partly a mechanism to wean me slowly onto the pills - Coumadin (sp?). I’ll be on the Coumadin for six months.
I gotta be careful, as I’ll bruise much more nastily & easily/cuts will be tougher to staunch. No shaving or drinking alcohol & much more attention to how I move. Also gotta wear a knee-high compression stocking whenever I’m not laying down. Other’n that & a few more blood tests & doctor visits, it’s not a big thing. Mom’s wanting to enclose me in several layers of bubble wrap, but that’s what a mom is for, I guess. I don’t blame her for worrying - I s’pose I’m probably lucky.
So that’s what I did on my summer vacation - and missed only one day of my summer class. 