I scroll through my online prescription account at my pharmacy, looking at the number of refills I have on my medicines. A drug called nitroglycerine pops up on my screen. (I no longer take this medicine; it is used to dilate the blood vessels of the heart.) I am instantly transported back to last summer. It was a time in which blood clots plagued my life. I nearly died when a massive clot traveled to my lungs. I think about the d-dimer test, a test which is used as an indicator for blood clots. I think about Lovenox, a shot given subcutaneously to break up blood clots. I take a moment to praise God I have not had any blood clots since September 2020.
Twenty-four hours later, I develop a sharp pain in my chest. I ignore it. The next morning, my PICC line arm is slightly swollen and discolored. I groan. This likely means there is a blood clot attached to my PICC line.
A series of events happen. A trip to the ER. A d-dimer test. Two shots of Lovenox. The frightening memories of last summer come roaring back. I praise God that despite everything happening, I do not have the horrible chest pain and the severe shortness of breath.
This morning, when I got out of bed, my left calf ached in pain. I went to the kitchen. I was struggling to breathe. Soon, I found myself gasping for breath. I go to bed. I cannot catch my breath. I huff and puff. My ventilator is alarming. I get out of bed and more around. I twist and turn. Finally, I feel the pressure and tightness in my chest vastly decrease. I praise God, the blood clot must have moved. For the rest of the day, I am short of breath. My left calf aches. My PICC line arm throbs with each heart beat.
I wonder how this will all end. Will the clots pass on their own? Will my body break up the clots like it did last summer? Will I have to go back to the hospital? Will I have to get a new PICC line? So many questions swirl through my head. I cling, cleave and hold fast to God that He will provide a way.
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