Two years ago this Saturday, I died for 27 minutes from a pulmonary embolism caused by an estrogen-based hormone patch.
I had ablation surgery 12 years ago — a procedure that destroys the lining of the uterus, typically done to treat heavy menstrual bleeding — which put me into perimenopause (and then menopause) very quickly; I wasn’t even 50 yet. So, I went to a new OBGYN and told them about my menopause symptoms. Although I had undergone a thrombectomy just 10 years earlier, my history of blood clots didn’t seem to factor into the decision to prescribe hormone therapy. I also wasn’t tested for Factor V Leiden, a genetic condition that increases the risk of blood clots. Instead, I was prescribed a high-dose hormonal patch.
A week later after hiking, my leg was swollen and hurt. I told my husband to get ready to go to the hospital because I knew something was seriously wrong. He started packing the car, and then I lost all memory of anything beyond that point. Apparently, I had called 9-1-1, but it’s strange not to be able to remember this. I must have known I only had seconds to live. I passed out onto the floor.
“Critical Trip to the Hospital”
Engine 41 of the Los Angeles Fire Department gave me life-saving CPR throughout the entire 6–10 minute drive to the hospital. The chest compressions were so forceful that they broke bones in my chest.
When I arrived at the emergency room, I was put on the ER’s only ECMO machine at the time. ECMO is a form of life support that temporarily does the work of the heart and lungs when they can’t function properly. The machine takes blood out of the body, adds oxygen, removes carbon dioxide, and returns the blood to the body, giving the heart and lungs time to recover.
My chances of survival were just 30%. Doctors also estimated that even if I survived, there was a 90% chance I would have severe, permanent brain damage and might never regain consciousness or awareness.
The Road Back
It’s taken two years — but here I am! I still have a lot of medical issues, but I am walking and talking and my brain continues to heal a little every day.
I am still working to see specialists for the damage the pulmonary embolism caused to my lungs. I am learning to walk again and I can swim.
Since discovering that I have Factor V Leiden I’ve begged my children, who are young adults, to talk with their healthcare providers about their family history and getting tested themselves. They haven’t pursued testing yet, but I hope they’ll make it a priority.
What I Want You to Know
Life is a gift. Everything that exists is energy. How we use our energy matters. It has given me new purpose to get involved.
Be patient. If you have a caregiver — be kind to them. Advocate for yourself or find someone that will. Join a group or two — making friends with people that have gone through similar experiences will validate you. Live every single day to its fullest and stop and smell the roses.
