{Go Red For Women} When A Doctor Fails

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We have talked about the statistics. We talked about the warning signs and about what to do when someone is having a stroke. What we have yet to talk about is that sometimes doctors fail.

On October 14, 2009 I went to the Alina clinic in Woodbury for my yearly exam and birth control prescription renewal. The doctor was more concerned about whether or not my insurance would pay for the pap because I was a few weeks early. She said “Ya know they only pay for one per year. Your last exams was in November 2008. So they might not pay and you will get a bill.” The doctor actually left the room for a few minutes so I could think about whether or not I wanted my exam. Still to this day I can’t believe she did that.

When she came back in the room she was rushing and barely listening to anything I was saying. I was getting annoyed so I changed my tone and said “look I am really tired, my right leg has been throbbing, I have redness and swelling in my calf and upper thigh. This isn’t normal for me.” The doctor looked me in the eye and said “well you said you haven’t been walking as much. Go home walk and drink more water. Here’s your script. Bye.”

With those words she left the room and I got dressed. If she wasn’t concerned then I shouldn’t be. So I didn’t give it a second though and I went on about my day. As the days went by I wasn’t getting any better. I had shooting pains and major swelling in my leg. Again I brushed it off, drank some water, and walked a little more. I had bigger things to tackle. I finished out my last few days at the pharmacy benefit management company and looked forward to staring my new job that Monday. I didn’t have the time to be sick, so my health it was shoved to the side. After all the doctor she wasn’t worried so I wasn’t going to worry either.

Monday came and I was super pumped for my new job. By the end of the day I did not feel well. The shooting pain was moving up my leg into my stomach and I had this massive head ache. When I got home I took some Tylenol and went to bed. I woke up fine on Tuesday and set out to conquer day 2 of my new job. I felt fine all day Tuesday. Wednesday afternoon would prove to be difficult. I had this pain it felt like someone was dragging a knife up and down my right side. My leg was so swollen it barely fit in my pants and I just felt sick. When I got home I took some Tylenol and went to sleep.

Thursday October 22, 2009 I woke up feeling fine. I had slight pains in my chest, I chalked it up to a cold and headed out to work. Fuck me, the freeway was bumper to bumper and I was worried about being late. I continued on I94, as I drove the pain in my chest kept on getting worse. It felt like thousands of knives poking me and when I tried to take a deep breath it felt like trying to inflate a tiny balloon. Again I said to myself “don’t worry you will be fine, all you need to do is make it to work, take some Tylenol and drink some water. My condition worsened, by the time I reached Saint Paul I could barely breath, my arms were going numb, my heart was racing, and I, I was fighting. Lexington Parkway, I made it there and took the exit. I drove all the way back to Woodbury. I remember thinking do I go home or do I go straight to the Hospital.

I chose the hospital and that is where my morning unraveled. The doctor ruled out a heart attack and he was leaning towards a respiratory infection. I apologized profusely for taking up their time. My blood oxygen level was below 50% and the doctor paused for a moment and asked if I was on a birth control I told him “yes, Yes I am. I am on the Nuva Ring.” The Doctor explained the risks of blood clots and the D-Dimer test to me. He told me, its most likely not that, but we want to be safe. The results came back and the results were not good. I was in trouble. I was sent off to CT and with in forty minutes the blood clot was found. I had a blood clot the size of a ten cent gumball in my left lung. It was wedged in the main valve leading from my left lung to my heart. My lung had signs of infarction, I had 20% tissue death in the lower portion of my left lung. My heart was barely getting any blood nor was my body getting the vital amount of oxygen it needed.

The Doctor ordered the highest dose of Heparin possible. He talked to me and tried to explain everything that was going on. A nurse he noticed that my blood pressure was climbing. I remember looking at the nurse and saying “I feel really light headed, like I am sinking, and and……..” In that moment I lost my words. In that moment I had a stroke. The staff gave me clot busters and started the Heparin drip. I was not going home for a while. At 26 years old, just five days shy of my 27th birthday I almost died. My life was forever changed and I was left to chart my course as a survivor.

In the coming days I would learn that my stroke was 100% preventable. On October 14, 2009 I described the tell tale signs of a possible blood clot in the leg. She knew I was on the Nuva Ring which was known to cause blood clots. All my doctor had to do that day was listen to me. She had the ability to order a D-Dimer, that test would have signified that I had a clot somewhere in my body, instead she dismissed my concerns and sent me home. Preventable was the hardest pill I had to swallow. I went through hell because a doctor didn’t give a fuck about me, she was more concerned about my insurance company paying than my health.

I had to endure three weeks of Lovenox injections, seven months of INR checks and take warfarin sodium in an attempt to keep my blood thin. Worst of all because of her oversight that day, I can no longer carry a child. OBGYN’s are suppose to bring babies into this world, not take away a woman’s fertility. They are suppose to advocates for women’s health and not be the reason a woman’s health fails. I was on a birth control, so as I told her “Hey my leg hurts, its swollen, red, and warm to the touch.” A red flag should of went up and she should have done her duty and ordered the D-Dimer. Her lack of concern made me dismiss a shit ton of red flags. I thought “the doctor wasn’t concerned, so why should I be concerned?”

The beautiful thing about a woman’s body is that, it never steers her wrong. I should have listened to my gut and pushed for a second opinion. That one doctor changed my perspective and now I fight for my own health. I am not afraid to ask for a second, third, or forth opinion. I will not give up or in until I find someone who is just as passionate about health as I am. I will be damned if I ever get dismissed by a doctor again. To be honest I don’t trust doctors anymore. They are only as smart as the paper their license is printed on.

The OBGYN I saw that day is fully aware of what happened to me. She actually called me and apologized. I said to her “Your apology cannot bring my lung function back, it will not restore my ability to have a baby, and it will not make your lack of concern OK. You can shove your apology up your ass. What’s done is done.” I cannot undo what she did to me, but I sure as hell can make sure no other woman endures my fate. If my story saves one woman or makes one woman pause and ask her doctor “what is my risk.” Then the hell I went through on that day was worth it, because I was able to make a difference in another woman’s life.
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{Hearts On 22} Scales Are For The Birds

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I have never been one to follow the crowd or listen to critics. I rather stay in the woods and join the teddy bear picnic. Society tells me I am fat and that I should change. Change, means losing weight and striving to be there kind of beautiful.

There kind of beautiful is not my kind of beautiful. I’m not exactly fat, some call me fit. Others, well they just call me fluffy. Society wants me to be ashamed of my tits, my hips, my stomach, my ass, and my curves that go on for days. Once I was ashamed, I strived and I tried to be skinny. But, skinny wasn’t me, we didn’t work out and I put my size 14 jeans back on.

My size 14 ass has seen a lot of shit. When I look in the mirror I see curves with a dash of strength and a twist of determination. My body, she is powerful and she is amazing. She has never let me down. She beat the odds to walk another day. Scars are stories that left an imprint on your soul. My scars, shit I’ve got more than I can count. The newest one is a really cool neck scar and it is a reminder to always fight for answers.

Answers never come easy and sometimes you kind of wish you stayed in the woods. People stare at my scar, they look me up and down when they find out I had a stroke and lord they hit the floor when they find out I have a son in heaven. We are never told that sometime the fairytale sucks and that shit gets deep. Life isn’t fair and we are never prepared for the short deck. Yet we must always play the hand we are dealt and love the only body we will ever have.

My body is beautiful. Beautiful because it carries my surviving heart from place to place. I will never be a model, a hottie or hell even a heartthrob. I am simple and unexpected, and someone out there cannot get enough of my kind of beautiful.

Rock what the good lord gave you, put down that diet book, throw out your scale, and girl start loving yourself! Strength and determination are fucking sexy and they look good on YOU! Girl, you are not a bird, stop eating like one and enjoy food. As in really enjoy your life and have a little fun along the way. Kiss a stranger, dance in the rain, be daring, and never ever give up on your sweet self!

{Hearts on 22} Why I Go RED

Left: 2009 /  Right 2013  Looking back and celebrating 4 years of Survival

Left: 2009 / Right 2013 Looking back and celebrating 4 years of Survival

On October 14, 2009 I had my annual check up and birth control renewal appointment. My Doctor asked me if I had any concerns. I said yes. “Yes I do, I have this incredible pain in my leg and it won’t go away. My leg is deep red in spots and I am having head aches.” The doctor said and I quote “oh you just need to exercise and drink more water. You will be fine.”

October 22, 2009, 7:00am I was driving through rush hour traffic when my chest started hurting. At first it was just annoying and I thought “oh I will just take some Tylenol when I get to work. It’s nothing.” The pain kept on getting worse and worse, my heart started racing, at this point I could barely breath. Again I though “I will make it to work, take Tylenol and I will be fine.” I kept on driving. My situation wasn’t improving, my arms were starting to feel numb, I was becoming light headed. I thought to my self “should I call my mom. No, don’t do that she will panic. Should I pull over and dial 911? No, don’t do that you don’t want to be stuck on the side of the road. Oh look Lexington parkway. Take the exit.”

I did take that exit and somehow by the grace of God I drove myself to the hospital in Woodbury. The last thing I remember is seeing the security guard hold out his arm and I collapsed. I woke up to a nurse telling me “I can either cut your clothes off or you can help me take them off.” The staff had all ready hooked me up to monitors and an EKG machine.

The doctor came in and said “well we know you are not having a heart attack but something is wrong. I think you might have an infection in your lung. Well take an X-ray and get you some meds and you will be out of here in no time.” Ok I said. Then he stopped turned around and said “are you on birth control.” Yes I said. He ordered more tests.

My heart had been in sinus tachycardia for over an hour, my oxygen level was below 40 and I was fading fast. The D-dime test came back positive and a CT scan was done. A blood clot the size of a 10 cent gum ball was blocking the main valve to my heart and my body was being starved of oxygen. Within minutes of this discovery, I had a stroke.

The ER staff was kicked into high gear and the life saving efforts began. Clot busters were injected, they gave me the highest possible dose of Heprin, and my life was saved.

But what gets me is this “this all could have been prevented if my OBGYN had truly listened to me, she could have ordered the d-dime test and the clot would have been found and it would never have traveled to my lungs.” I almost died 5 days before my 27th birthday. I got the best gift in 2009 and that was my life.

So please listen to your heart and mostly your gut. If something doesn’t feel right keep on pushing until you find the one doctor who will listen to you. Don’t end up like me, I learned the hard way. Now I never take a doctors word at face value and I ask questions.

One moment changed everything, I was robbed of my youth and now I am going RED because no woman deserves to fight alone.

“What Will You Gain When You Throw OUT The SCALE?”

Photo by Stephanie Ryan Photography

Photo by Stephanie Ryan Photography

I always dread the end of the Christmas season and find myself counting down the days to wait for it, wait for it….. WEIGHTLOSS SEASON! Every January my TV is filled with commercials spouting “What will you gain when you lose” or meet the new you. There are commercials for every gosh darn weight loss pill, program, and so on. My favorite tagline from an ad is for Lipozine “Why does it work? It cost $300.00. That’s why it works!” Really a $300.00 bottle of pills is going to help me lose weight? I don’t think so. My biggest beef is with Kellogg’s Special K cereal. Their ads always start out empowering with statements such as “You are more than a number.” Then they quickly go down hill.

As a society we have become so focused on the little box that sits on our bathroom floors. We let it guide our self-worth and our lifestyles. I can tell you that I too once lived a life powered by my bathroom scale and counted every God damn calorie that I shoved into my mouth. I ate rice cakes, 100 calorie packs, and many unappetizing low-calorie microwave meals. My life had become “Count, eat, sleep, gym, morning weigh in —– repeat 24/7 365. Then one day I ate a cupcake, I didn’t dare figure out the calorie count, and for once I was ok with it.

As I was learning to love my body, my bathroom scale began to gather dust. I stood one night and looked at myself in the mirror. As in really looked at myself, I saw my body from a grown up perspective. I was reminded that I get my facial features from my Aunt Cherie Leigh, I have her freckles, large forehead, and high cheek bones. I noticed that my collar-bone sticks out and that my boobs are still holding their own. My back fat, (yea, I’ve got it too!) curves, and dimpled backside no longer bothered me. Instead of flaws I saw strength.

For the first time in a long time, I smiled into the mirror. I am not a size 8 or even a 10, yet I am happy in my size 12/14 jeans. I no longer strive to be like the girls in the magazines. I want to be the best possible me. I need to take care of the body that God gave me. The flaws disappeared, instead I focused on the fact that my body survived a pulmonary embolism and carried a child for a short while. The scar on my lower abdomen is a reminder of my bladder reconstruction surgery and to have hope for a better day. The scars on my knee remind me to keep on walking until the road before me ends. My curly hair, I finally love it and no longer wish for straight hair.

My big flat feet proved to be the perfect canvas for a tattoo. Tattoos, I’ve got two! One on my foot of four bear paws to remind me that my son Alucious is always with me. I have a book-worm studying a law-book on my lower right back (Ha! You thought it was a tramp stamp!) it reminds me to never stop fighting for justice.

You see I no longer want to spend my life looking at a scale. Instead I want to celebrate all of the above things and live a life full of worth. A life filled with white frosted cupcakes, walks with my dog, and backyard BBQs. I don’t need to be a size 2 to be beautiful. At a size 12/14 I am the healthiest I have ever been in my life. I no longer need those 100 calorie packs, rice cakes, and crappy low-calorie microwaved meals to eat “healthy”. I learned how to eat healthy, as in real fresh from the farm foods. I cook more and actually get excited about eating. I have more will power than ever before, I can pass up the bakery, cookie, and snack isle in the grocery store. I am not missing out on the treats, instead I buy just one cookie or cupcake to satisfy my craving. That’s all I need.

I do not need a low number to tell me that I am empowering, joyful, healthy, beautiful, or sexy. I will never let the number on my bathroom scale define myself worth again. I just wish Special K cereal would changer their ads and make women feel empowered in their current state and not ask them “What will you gain when you lose?” Because really the true question is “What will you gain when you throw out the bathroom scale?”

{Hearts on 22} Love With All of Your Heart

Sophia and featherChristmas is when I miss Charlie the most. Mostly because he got cheated. Cheated out of meeting Sophia. He was anticipating her arrival and received status updates on the progress of her birth. A trial kept him in New York and he couldn’t wait to hang up his traveling suit and snuggle his niece in his arms. Charlie never got to see her smile, hear her laughter or feel her tiny hand in his. Sophia never got to meet the man who dreamed of taking her to Paris and who would have spoiled her beyond her wildest imagination. Charlie died loving the tiny girl he never got to meet.

As I sit back and reflect I can’t help but to think about all of the people who have never laid eyes on their niece or nephew. Sure deadly drunk driving accidents stick in our minds. After all one drunk driver took Charlie an 4 other people out on a wintry Valentine’s Day. That was one moment in time, yet in that moment hundreds of women lost their lives to heart disease and stroke. Hundreds more died that day from a Pulmonary Embolisms or other hormonal contraceptive related side effect. Those lives never make the news, they just fade quietly into the timelines of history.

If it were not for my care team I would have joined the fading time line. I would have been another casualty not a news worthy story. There isn’t a day that goes by where I do not thank God for keeping me on this earth. For answering my silent prayer and giving me the strength to fight. For giving me the strength to stand up and shout my story from the roof tops. With each word spoken I began to heal my broken heart, I penned my name on a legal services agreement and became a plaintiff in the Multidistrict Litigation against Merck. I put myself out there in hopes that I could save one woman from enduring my hell. I love with all of my heart and in a sheer moment of utter disaster my passion was born.

My purpose is clear “educate those around me about the dangers of hormonal contraceptives, blood clots, stroke and pulmonary embolism warning signs.” I will not rest until the Nuva Ring is pulled from he market and until doctors properly inform their patients of the risk associated with the use of hormonal contraceptives. Charlie was the one who pushed me to share my story with the world. He took up my mission and would stand in the wings watching me with tears in his eyes as I brought tears to the audience. I am alive today because I listed to my heart.

When Charlie died my heart was broken and it healed each time I held our niece in my arms. Each time I heard her laughter, held her tiny hand in mine, and listen to her whisper Auntie” for the first time. To think the Nuva Ring almost robbed me of those moments. My birth control almost cheated me out of being an aunt. The Nuva Ring almost claimed my life and it changed me in more ways than I could ever explain. However it will never ever stop me from loving Sophia with all of my surviving heart. Sophia will grow up with the notion that she is one lucky little girl. Because she could be holding a picture of the woman she calls Auntie. Instead she gets to hold her aunties hand and play. She is lucky because God allowed her Aunt to be the 1 out of 5 who got to walk away from a massive pulmonary embolism on October 22, 2009.

As I watch Sophia unwrap her gifts I will be thinking about all of my sisters who lost the battle. About all of those who would gladly take my seat at the table and those who are fighting with all of their hearts. Families will gather and thousands of children will hear stories about the women they never got to meet. Heart disease, strokes, and pulmonary embolisms are taking to many aunties out of the equation. To many children are walking in memory of the woman they never got to call “Auntie” and never got to love with all of their hearts.