I Thought I Was Just Getting Older
The official date I use for my blood clot story is July 27, 2020—the day I was admitted to the hospital.
Looking back, though, the story really started weeks earlier.
It was the summer of 2020, just a few months into the COVID-19 pandemic. Around the same time, I had turned 45 years old. I was active, healthy, and exercised regularly, so when I started feeling unusually fatigued in June, I didn’t think much of it.
I assumed I was getting older. Maybe I was pushing myself too hard at the gym. Maybe it was stress. Maybe it was even COVID.
Blood clots weren’t on my radar.
The Symptoms Didn’t Seem Connected
As the weeks went on, the fatigue was joined by something else: leg pain.
The discomfort was hard to describe. Sitting at my desk or driving became increasingly uncomfortable. Sometimes I felt tingling in my feet. Eventually, I developed calf pain.
I knew calf pain could be associated with blood clots, but I also knew that blood clots were supposed to cause swelling, redness, or discoloration—and I didn’t have any of those symptoms.
So I convinced myself it was a muscle strain.
I rested. I iced it. I avoided running for a few days.
But the pain didn’t go away.
Even then, I never connected the fatigue and leg pain. In my mind, they were completely unrelated.
The Lightning Bolt
Everything changed one night at the end of July.
I had gone to bed when suddenly a sharp pain shot through my chest.
It wasn’t mild discomfort. It felt like someone was driving a knife into my chest.
The pain was so severe that I couldn’t sit up normally. I had to roll out of bed because every movement hurt.
I spent the entire night trying to explain it away.
Maybe it was indigestion.
Maybe I had somehow strained a muscle.
Maybe it was a broken rib.
By morning, the pain had eased. I convinced myself it wasn’t serious.
The next day, my family spent time with friends on a lake. I was exhausted from being awake most of the night, but I pushed through.
That evening, I carried my youngest daughter upstairs after she fell asleep in the car.
Something I’ve done countless times suddenly felt impossible.
By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I was gasping for air.
It felt like I had just sprinted as fast as I could.
Still, I didn’t connect the dots.
A Second Night—and Growing Fear
That night, when I laid down in bed, the chest pain returned.
This time it was worse.
I sat upright in the position that hurt the least and spent hours scrolling through my phone, searching heart attack symptoms and trying to diagnose myself.
I didn’t call 911.
I didn’t wake my wife.
I didn’t go to the emergency room.
Part of me was convinced it was something minor. Another part was afraid of going to a hospital during the pandemic.
Looking back, I was incredibly fortunate.
“You Need to Get to the Hospital”
The next morning, I called my primary care physician.
He happened to be on vacation, so I spoke with a nurse covering for his office.
As I described my symptoms, she stopped me mid-sentence.
“You need to get to the hospital.”
Those words hit me as hard as the chest pain.
Until that moment, I hadn’t truly considered that something serious might be wrong.
Suddenly I was thinking about my wife. My daughters. My family.
I drove myself to the emergency room.
The staff immediately brought me in for testing.
Even then, I remained convinced they would send me home.
The Diagnosis
The emergency room physician was exceptional.
He sat beside me and explained that my symptoms could be one of several things. A blood clot was on the list, but he told me I didn’t fit the typical profile.
Still, he promised they would find answers.
Over the next several hours, doctors performed bloodwork, imaging scans, X-rays, and an ultrasound of my legs.
That’s when they found it.
A large deep vein thrombosis (DVT) extended from behind my knee down toward my ankle.
Additional testing revealed multiple pulmonary embolisms (PEs) in my lungs.
I was immediately started on a heparin drip.
For the first time, I realized this wasn’t just a pulled muscle or a strange virus.
I had experienced a life-threatening blood clot.
The Moment That Still Gives Me Chills
Initially, the plan was straightforward: begin treatment and discharge me home.
My wife had already arrived at the hospital and was literally completing paperwork to take me home.
Then it happened again.
The chest pain returned.
This time it was far worse than anything I had experienced before.
I nearly fell out of the hospital bed.
The medical team quickly administered morphine and changed course. Instead of going home, I was admitted for several days.
To this day, I think about how close I came to leaving the hospital just minutes before that episode occurred.
If that pain had struck while my wife and I were driving home, I don’t know what would have happened.
An Unexpected Answer: Factor V Leiden
One of the few silver linings to come from my diagnosis was discovering that I have Factor V Leiden, a genetic blood clotting disorder.
As the father of four daughters, that information suddenly took on enormous importance.
Women face unique blood clot risks during pregnancy, while taking hormonal contraceptives, and during other life stages.
Knowing that this genetic condition exists in our family gives us information we can act on.
It allows us to ask questions, have conversations with healthcare providers, and make informed decisions that could one day save a life.
Finding Purpose Through Community
After my diagnosis, I found the National Blood Clot Alliance.
What surprised me most was how much comfort came from connecting with people who understood what I had been through.
No two blood clot stories are exactly alike.
But hearing someone say, “I’ve experienced that too,” can make all the difference.
The anxiety, uncertainty, and questions that follow a diagnosis can feel overwhelming.
Finding a community helped me realize I wasn’t facing those challenges alone.
It gave purpose to what had happened to me and inspired me to help others learn about blood clots before it’s too late.
What I Want Others to Know
I can’t say for certain why I developed my first blood clot.
What I do know is that many of the warning signs were there.
Fatigue.
Leg pain.
Shortness of breath.
Chest pain.
Individually, each symptom seemed easy to explain away. Together, they told a very different story.
If sharing my experience helps even one person recognize the signs sooner, seek medical attention faster, or ask one more question, then something good can come from what happened.
And if there’s one lesson I’ve learned, it’s this:
Listen to your body. When something doesn’t feel right, don’t ignore it.
It might save your life.
