The untold story of the Blood Clot and how I became a HO

I was at dinner with my parents this past weekend celebrating my father's birthday and we were recounting the events of the week, part of which involved my health, and as I was driving home, I realized that there is a story that some know bits and pieces of, but many probably don't know the full account... so what better place to share than here on this blog, as if I had not gone through what I've been through, it wouldn't be here.

Here, for the first time (drum roll please) is my account written down... so I apologize if it is long, but this is my life.

So for those out there that don't know, when I was 19, I was diagnosed with a blood clot in my right leg. In addition, I had the awesome experience of a pulmonary embolism in my lungs (which is actually a good thing considering the alternative of aneurysm and/or stroke). I have to preface that I am very lucky to be here. I take each day and try to live life to it's fullest, remembering "what could have been" -- obviously some days I do better than others with that thought. :)

See, a blood clot is very hard to diagnose. I was a VERY active, healthy 19 year old Division I swimmer. I was giving my all to my craft, and I loved it. Swimming was my LIFE. I loved ECU, I loved my team, I loved the competition, and I HATED losing. I trained my ASS off and I was good. I went to ECU to swim and that is what I did. I loved the water.

I remember that we went to AU and then to JMU for a Saturday/Sunday meet - which meant that we had Monday off (yipee). It was my first time swimming "at home" -- American -- and I was excited that my family could be there (even though they were at all my meets because they loved me!). I remember doing my 200 breast and getting out and just being in pain - its funny because later I would end up working at AU as an SID and I have these horrible memories of the pool there and being in pain. The next day we went to JMU and I had to swim against a girl named Sam -- and I remember my coach putting me in lane 8 (I always swam in the middle) -- and I finished very poorly and I remember not being able to breath well... it was just not a good day.  We went home, I chalked it up to a bad weekend in the pool and I would be fine.

The next practice was a Tuesday morning and I recall nothing but the kick set. This sounds so gross, but I hocked up a loogey (everyone does it -- and if a swimmer tells you they don't pee in the pool also, they are lying, all swimmers do it). Anyway, the loogey had a massive amount of blood in it and I immediately ignored it and swept it into the gutter... um yah. So obviously a HUGE loogey of blood was not exactly sucked down and Coach Kobe fished it out with a fin and was like WTF. Obviously, being the petty sophomore who was so embarrassed I didn't say anything... probably not the smartest move on my part.

Time went on and I continued to try to practice over the next couple of days, only to be in more pain. I went to the team doctor, who told me that there was nothing wrong with me that they could see. I went through training, my mom came down and yelled at the training staff and still nothing was found. Anyway, long story short, I was in pain, I was a bitch because I wasn't sleeping and couldn't swim and life pretty much sucked.

So after about 2 weeks, I was in the student center and my dear friend Kelly and I were there and I sneezed and as it happened a bunch of blood came up with the sneeze. She looked at me and said "ok bitch, you are sick. we are taking you to a real doctor I don't care what you say", so after practice that day, she packed me up, and took me to a doc-in-a-box.

After examining me, the doc-in-the-box said, I am not sure what is wrong with you, you have a choice... go to the hospital now or go home and go when it gets worse. Kelly, being the loving friend she is, said "no way. you are a bitch you are going to the hospital NOW" So off we went to Pitt Memorial... and the rest of the evening is a bit blurry.

I remember being in INCREDIBLE pain in the waiting room -- it was like my body was telling me that I needed help NOW. I got doped up with a bunch of drugs (woohooo for me, baddddd news for Kelly), having to pee and there being a pregnant lady in the bathroom about to give birth (ok that might have been the drugs) and a pelvic exam that ended with Kelly yelling at the doctor to stop looking at my hoo-haw and start looking at my leg because it was 4X the size of my other one (note: in all college ER's you are automatically expected to have either a STD or be preggers if you have pain in your stomach)

I woke up the next am and there was a nurse coming in asking me if I wanted to speak to the priest to repent any sins (ie, you are about to die)  --  of course being the kind person I am I said "what the F are you talking about, go get me a doctor"  When the doc came in he told me I needed to make a decision because  I had a clot the size of texas in my leg and I was either going to die, lose a leg or both within the next four hours -- oh and I have about a 10% chance of coming out of all of this 100%... so of course, I said - just talk to my mom.

Next thing I know I am being wheeled into surgery to do some sort of crazy shit that my body ended up rejecting -- BUT I didn't die (cue applause).  Long story short again, I had a huge ass blood clot from my hip to my shin and they got all but 4 inches out, which still remain a part of me today.

I spent 10 days in the hospital. I was a HORRIBLE patient. Think about it. You take an active, happy athlete and take her out of what she loves and tell her she may not be able to do it ever again... what do you think you are going to get??? I was devastated. It was my life. And to be told that the chances were slim to none that I would be able to compete again killed me. I went home on Thanksgiving Day and I remember driving back to DC not knowing what the future held.

Most don't know but swimmers don't shave their legs in season - they wait until the "big meet" -- so I was a hairy mofo... and I remember sitting in my shower, shaving my legs and it was such a significant thing for me -- because that was the true ending to my season. It was the reality that it was over. All my hard work, all my sweat, tears, training was over...possibly forever - and it was horrible. It was a moment that will forever be in my heart. I have had my heart broken by too many men - but nothing will break me more than that moment, when I realized that it was over. I remember sitting in my shower (I couldn't stand for more than 5 minutes without incredible pain) and just crying. Thankfully, I was able to swim and kick ass even more than before, so that heartbreak isn't so bittersweet like the others.

So when I came back home I was lucky enough to see a doctor that was top in the nation for blood clots. One thing that puts things in perspective is that doctors that specialize in blood clots also are the doctors that treat cancer patients -- and they totally trump me when it comes to importance. I am so lucky next to what they are going through. I almost feel as if I am not worthy and that the doctors time is better spent on saving them than looking at my stupid clot. Dr. Kessler is the top in the nation -- I am lucky to have him even blink an eye at me, much less see me as a patient. he truly knows his shit. I had Dr. Bogey at ECU, who was the vascular surgeon who saved my life and I thank my lucky stars for him every day. He was amazing, and incredibly patient with me, and I try to keep in touch with him now (apparently his son is a swimmer at ECU of all things -- how ironic)

Anyway - Dr. Kessler told me that I should kiss my marathon dreams (which I laughed at the time) goodbye and that if I were to finish my swimming career that I should be thankful to be back in the water. I was determined and I came back my junior year to a new and amazing coach (love ya and thank you Chris Feaster) and built myself back up - through a LOT of hard work and pain.

My senior year, I came back again and kicked ass and even became nationally ranked (not bad for a chick with a ho) and finished proudly as the most improved swimmer for ECU. I wore, and still proudly wear a ho on my leg, which provides circulation from my foot to my heart and even though I was told to put the dreams of marathon running aside, as this blog shows, I have proudly finished three and a half marathons... so I guess you can say "SUCK IT BLOOD CLOT"

But seriously, I do wear my ho all the time. It is a part of me. So if you see me walking down the road and you aren't sure if I forgot my other stocking, trying to make a fashion statement, or I am just strange, don't judge. Some may not know what it is all about and I won't bore you with the whole story, just think before you act or speak. Each person has a unique story... and my ho is mine. It is what makes me who I am. I love it. Granted I don't love it when my leg hurts and swells, but I have been known to get a few chuckles out of it - even 12 years later the joke of being a HO doesn't get old... it hasn't slowed me down yet, and I don't plan on it anytime soon. I've had some trouble with it over the last week but I am optimistic that nothing is wrong (and the doctors say that too) -- so blood clot be damned - I am going to keep living my life!

As for diving, I was nervous when I started  - what would the air do, what would the compression do at depth -- but I've done the research and it there is nothing that says I can't dive - so I am not going to let it stop me and the doctors agree!

This bitch of a clot didn't stop me from swimming before, finishing three marathons, so I am sure as hell not going to let it stop me now. Plus, I make the ho look DAMN GOOD (and a wetsuit too!)

Anyway that is the long, but exciting story of the ho and the clot!

TGIF...

It is crazy for me to think that there is even a remote possibility of being able to change my life so much... I know Bali is probably a total long shot, but it would mean a HUGE change and an opportunity for me to truly follow my dreams and do something that I could only DREAM of. I am trying not to think about it because I don't want to get my hopes up.

I am not going to lie, I've had a rough week. A really shitty, rough week and all I can think of is wanting to be underwater. I have my mask hanging up on my doorknob in my bedroom and all I want to do is dive. It truly is my safe haven. It is where I can go and just be most comfortable - there is no stress, no emails, no work, no heartache, nothing else exists when you are underwater. It isn't hard for me - it comes easily and it is my "happy place" - Yes, I have running, but that is HARD. It doesn't come easy to me like swimming always has. It hurts. It makes me tired -- but it does the job when it comes to getting my mind off of things, so that is helpful but it doesn't put me at peace like diving does.

Thing is, the dream of being able to do that EVERYDAY and to be able to teach others to love it the way I do would be amazing. It doesn't matter if I go to Bali or not - I am going to be instructing one day regardless - it is like cycle. I am going to do it and I am going to be good at it just like I do when I teach now. :) I guess if I had one big wish right now I would wish it to be warmer right now so I could go jump into the quarry! (and I would if there was a chilly willy dive this weekend...)

Regardless, the whole experience with Blue Season Bali and the whole Best Dive Job thing has made me feel incredibly loved by my friends and family - I never thought that I would see so much support from people who know me. It is just amazing - so for those of you who read this, thank you for all your love and support. It makes me feel like an incredibly lucky person and the wonderful things you have said has gotten me through some not-so-great times (especially this week, so thanks!) :)

And as for running, I looked at my training schedule and I need to get my ASS in gear if I am going to do this. Seriously I need to hook it up and get a nice long run under my belt... I can DO THIS!

Time is running out...

It is crazy how time flies. I was just looking at the best dive job site and it is so crazy that the contest to win the Best Dive Job is almost done... I applied on Nov 5 -- I think that was one of the first days that the contest opened -- and I got out to a good strong start, getting a lot of support from family and friends right off the bat.

As December rolled around, work got busy (hummm, that must be since I work in the gym business and I have to get ready to help with all those New Years Resolutions!!!) I was lucky enough to be able to travel a lot in December and I just realized that soon they will be deciding who will get the chance of a lifetime. I hope, cross my fingers and wish on every star that it will be me -- even though it is a long shot, but I need as much help as I can get. I don't know how many people follow this blog - maybe my old TNT teammates swing past it every once in a while and will log on and make a comment... regardless, take a moment and make a comment to help send me on a trip of a lifetime.

AND in addition into trying to make a dream come true, I need to put my feet on the ground and move forward regardless of what happens with Bali. If I am going to run this race or any race for that matter, I need to get my shit together. I need to refocus on getting back in shape and running. I can do it. I know I can. I've done it once and I will do it again.

Anyway if you are reading this, then you should be reading my application to win the Best Dive Job too... so log on and make a comment !

It's time to move on, it's time to get going... what lies ahead I have no way of knowing...