Get a Leg Up: The Further Adventures of Clot Boy

So my blood apparently is as thick as maple syrup, probably that fake kind, like Aunt Jemima.

Which is a glib way of saying, I have gooey blood clots again. I am back on the rat poison, with a leg that feels like the Pittsburgh Steelers defense fell on it. But only when I stand. Or sit. Or walk.

This all came to a head - or a foot, in this case - about three weeks ago. I've been having breathing troubles for some time. I walk up stairs, I sound like a horny obscene phone caller. I had tests in October - the year anniversary of the first time I had clots on my lungs - and all came back fine. I thought I was in the clear.

But even then I said my breathing seemed a bit labored on stairs. So I thought, better ask about getting a stress test, in case it's the ticker this time. I mean, my gene pool is dirty with coronary issues.

In the meantime, my leg started hurting, a slight pain in the left calf, a sore vein in the upper left thigh. So two weeks ago, I went to the doctor to talk about both issues.

She sent me to the hospital for an ultrasound, and then they found the baby growing on behind my knee. And they contacted Oprah immediately. Alright, I'm lying. They found nothing on the calf but a surface clot on the thigh.

I was told to keep the leg as elevated as possible, to heat it, and to schedule the stress test in a week or so. Only thing is, by the end of that week, the leg hurt more, especially the calf. It felt like a sports injury, like a sprain or tear, of which I know from experience. And the simple act of sitting on a bar chair caused my foot to fall asleep - that sharp needles and pins kind of numbing in the heel and big toe.

I called my doctor that Monday (Feb. 9) about it, and she said to go for the stress test, but she would order up a chemical version in case I couldn't walk well enough.

Well, I couldn't. In fact, the nurse took a look at the big toe, and it was turning a nice shade of Chicago winter sky. And that wasn't because of the registration hoops I had to jump through - as in I didn't properly pre-register for my test, so I had to hobble over to admitting, then back. Lucky, I had a friend with me.

So the nurse looks at the foot, says the stress test is off, but sets up one down the road for me that takes three hours and uses a dye, and sends me back to ultrasound. Still no baby, but this time, there is a deep vein clot on the calf and the surface clot. So they admit me - which took two hours for a bed to become available.

Another good buddy brought me a sandwich, which is good, because crabby from hunger AND in pain, well, I could have turned into Wolverine.

But I wound up in a single room, which was nice - with an IV in my arm for four days.

I had a VQ scan the first night, which showed a very high probability that I have a clot or clots on my lungs again, too. Interesting test: they make you breath in radioactive oxygen to get the images. The test was administered by a Korean woman with a nice sense of humor. She told me I looked like a genie and asked me to grant her three wishes.

I was poked and prodded for the remainder of the week - but I remain a medical mystery, like a weak episode of House.

My hospitalist put me on blood thinners. A hospitalist is a doctor who manages the care for patients while they are in the hospital. It frees up general practitioners to treat more people and/or spend more time with those who come to the office.

I like the way that every medical person asks you to tell you what happened the first time they meet you. If you're paranoid you would think that was to see if you are faking it. But I think it would be pretty hard to fake a blood clot. And it's not like a store sells some kit to cause one on purpose.

Anyway, the stay was pleasant enough, as far as hospital visits go. The staff was quite friendly and I felt like Brad Pitt for the attention I was getting. I had my laptop, but the place had odd blocks set up - I can understand no xtube, but no blogger sites either, or social networking sites, or pretty much anything with video. And no Internet radio feeds either.

It beat work. But I think if you asked most people these days, would you rather be at the office, or have an IV in your arm and be in bed for four days, choice B would win in a landslide (provided the person answering has good insurance, as I am fortunate enough to have. For now).

Still, the leg hurts, I can't walk for more than a block without the pain. I sit as you might at a desk or restaurant or meeting, and it gets uncomfortable. The toes and heel still seem to tingle. Only when the leg is elevated does the pain subside.

That's why I didn't ask for painkillers. Tomorrow I hope to learn what the doctor thinks my activity levels should be and what to do to manage the pain. The leg clot will eventually dissolve, they told me. It's taking its time, and blocking the flow to my foot, the bastard.

I also want to see of the can find a specialist who can pinpoint what the hell is causing this. There are mysteries in life and I don't want this to be one of them.

I am too much of a puzzle as it is.