Drugs. That’s what I remember most from the hospital. It seemed like every half hour, a nurse was coming into my room and injecting me with or having me swallow drugs. I could barely stay awake. I remember falling asleep with half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich hanging out of my mouth while I was visiting with my Dad. I remember he let it dangle, then I woke up and chewed on it some more. Being on pain relievers – heavy duty ones at that – is a weird sensation. I won’t say that I liked them, but the few moments without them were excruciating. I think I would rather feel spaced out, but that is unnerving in a different way. It wipes away your memory. And God knows what you might say. As evidenced by these few shining examples of incoherent text messages.
Yet, I was calm as could be when I texted Judi at 5:30 a.m. to tell her I was in the hospital. She had previously wished me a happy-first-day-of work:
We laughed about that later. I was also told to sleep by the nurses because I was becoming “delusional”:
![]() |
(Apparently I did) |
![]() |
“I just knew I would get something out of you being gone, Mama!” |
Me: May I please speak to Dr. H?
Nurse: Sure, hold on please, I’ll get him right away.
Waiting for what seemed like forever.Nurse: He had to go to the hospital for an emergency, but I have him on the other line. He needs you to come in to see him first thing in the morning.
Me: What? Why? The paper says three weeks!
Nurse: He believes your clot may be getting larger, which is very concerning. He wants you to go get a scan at the hospital in the morning before you come here. He wants you to stop taking Coumadin immediately and only take your injections. He wants you to take Aspirin daily. He’ll see you tomorrow at noon and explain everything then.
Me: Okay. Should I panic?
Nurse: No, but if you have any chest pains, shortness of breath or pain like before you came to the hospital, you need to go to the E.R. right away! Dr. H. takes the Pulmonary Embolism very seriously and if he wanted you to panic, he would let you know.
Me: Okay?
![]() |
Source |
The hope is that I do not experience another PE, but if I have any symptoms like that night, I am to go to the E.R. without hesitating. I got that now.
I may not need to say it, but always listen to your body. You never know when it might be trying to tell you something important. When you refuse to listen, it just goes haywire and forces you to take in interest.
Just look at me, I’m living proof.
What the #$%! Happened. In June 2012, I was incredibly lucky to survive a pulmonary embolism (or blood clot in my lung) that broke off from a clot that had formed deep within a vein in my lower leg. Read my story here.
Pace Points: Could YOU Have a Blood Clot? Learn more about my symptoms of DVT and PE and how you can help make sure you don’t have to experience the same thing!
“That’s Why I Pray.” God is not finished with me yet – and that’s why I’m still here! Do you believe in the power of prayer to make a difference? Do you believe there is hope when all seems hopeless? Do you believe in better days? I do now more than ever! The lyrics and meaning of this song got me through some seemingly hopeless moments in the days after my discharge from the hospital.
Wow – how scary!!! I’m glad you are ok!
“I will live to run again.” YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!
you WILL run again and i wouldnt fear that anyone thinks you are letting them down. i know its hard to be there and not be running but i know you will still be there as much as possible and that your positive spirit and presence will keep the Lucky 13s going strong! sending healing thoughts always dear friend!
So overwhelming — one day at a time!! You’re such a strong woman — and you have a phenomenal support system — there’s nothing you can’t do:)
So, so scary. I’m glad they caught it early enough. I hope you heal really fast.
I know that you have the strength to persevere, Sara, you are one amazingly strong woman. I am thrilled to hear that you will be starting your new job in July! I am continuing to keep you in my thoughts and prayers!
It seems categorically wrong to laugh while reading this post given the seriousness of what you were experiencing, but when I read those text messages again, I admit that I giggled because it was also the first of many that I received that read, “OMG…laughing so hard…oh, it hurts, but it’s good!” And only you would apologize later for texting me at 5 something in the morning to tell me you had a PE. So so glad you went to the hospital and they took everything seriously.
The texts cracked me up. I bet I would do the same thing! That’s wonderful news that it’s treatable and it sounds like you have a wonderful support system, a great new employer, and a wonderful doctor!
No words, just hugs. You are indeed a lucky 13, through and through!
Wow, what an experience. So glad that you’re okay, that you have a supportive new job and family, etc.