I am writing to share my story with you and to express my gratitude for the guidance the NBCA has provided during my journey and recovery.
After a life of travel, excitement, activity, and adventure — most recently zip lining in Costa Rica, traveling the Caribbean seas, exploring the mountains of Aspen, and actively playing pickleball — I moved to Tampa on March 27.
I had no idea that two weeks later, everything would change.
The Day That Changed Everything
On April 11, I experienced sharp, excruciating pain in my upper back radiating down to my chest.
I was so short of breath that I could barely finish a sentence without gasping for air.
It felt as though an elephant was standing on my chest, suffocating me.
At first, I tried to explain it away.
Maybe I had pulled a muscle moving.
Maybe it was heartburn.
Maybe it was just anxiety from the move.
But the pain didn’t stop. I eventually collapsed — alone, in a relatively new city.
Getting to the Hospital
Fortunately, I was able to get to the nearby hospital.
My vitals and EKG were initially normal.
Despite this, the shortness of breath and pain persisted.
The attending physician made the decision to perform a CTA angiogram.
That scan revealed scattered bilateral pulmonary embolisms — blood clots in both of my lungs.
A Shocking Diagnosis
I am a CPR instructor working in the healthcare field.
I had no known risk factors.
This diagnosis was shocking.
I was referred to a hematologist for genetic testing. The results came back negative — meaning my blood clots were considered unprovoked.
While it’s unclear if my history of three miscarriages in the mid-2000s is related, we may never have a clear explanation for why this happened.
Where I Am Now
I am currently taking apixaban and recently received encouraging news: a repeat CTA scan showed that the clots are shrinking and dissolving.
I am two months into my recovery journey. I’m currently unable to play pickleball or return to my previous activity levels — but I find great comfort in connecting with others who have shared similar experiences.
The Part No One Warns You About
The unknown of it happening again is scary.
I feel like I’m always on standby, waiting for more bad news — especially since I recently started coughing up blood and found myself back in the emergency room.
Anxiety is at an all-time high.
If I get a pain in my leg, my brain automatically goes right to DVT and skips every other diagnosis in between.
This diagnosis has affected me emotionally, physically, and financially. It has multi-level impacts and significant consequences far beyond the physical.
Constant worrying and high anxiety with every little muscle pain or unusual symptom now consumes a large portion of my day.
Would you like a hot cup of tea? Oh wait — let me check with the server first, to make sure none of the ingredients interact with my new medication!
Finding Strength in Community
I believe it is vital to advocate for others to listen to their bodies when something feels wrong.
I am eager to help inspire others and serve as a resource for those navigating similar diagnoses.
Education is crucial, and I am grateful to have found such a strong support system within this community.
We are all in this together as warriors.
I am proud to say I survived the scariest moment of my life after hearing the most frightening words: pulmonary embolisms.
What I Want Others to Know
PE’s have no boundaries.
Mine came without any notice or warning.
I will most likely be on a blood thinner for life.
April 11th will be a day that lives in infamy. But it is also the day that connected me with other survivors — and gave me a deeper appreciation for how special and valuable every moment, every breath, truly is.
I don’t think I could have run a marathon, even before the PEs.
But I’d love to be waiting at the finish line one day, banner in hand, supporting my peers who are running in honor of themselves or someone they love.
