In which I sound like a cranky ingrate

Scenes from Matanda, Malawi
This girl is going to have to walk 1km home. Photo from kym54 on Flickr.

This week, if you’ve seen any of my action on Twitter or Facebook, you probably know that I was admitted to the hospital on Monday for blood clots in my lungs. Three years ago I had a pulmonary embolism while I was in the hospital. To avoid the out on my third strike, I’m going to have to live the rest of my life regularizing my leafy green intake and taking Coumadin.

So, fine. I had a blood clot (again!) and I could have been one of the 100,000 Americans that die every year (one every 5 minutes) from a blood clot.

But I’m not. I survived. I’m very happy to be alive. I don’t really know how I would feel if I hadn’t survived this, but I know that my wife and children were quite upset when they came to see me in the hospital — their lives would be completely different had I not survived. And so, I’m happy for them that I’m sitting here in my back yard listening to the cicadas while my daughters play with the bugs they’ve caught today.

If the blood clot didn’t result in brain damage (i.e. a stroke), then the inconvenience of Coumadin is probably the most debilitating long term effect that most people suffer. There are even (very expensive) drugs available that take care of thinning the blood without being affected by diet. I’m on one now because the Heparin I was in the hospital for wasn’t getting my INR up quickly enough. But it costs $40 per dose. Paying $280 per week for preventative medicine doesn’t really work for my budget when there is a cheaper alternative (Coumadin) that has been working for 60 years.

But now when I tell people I’ve had two blood clots, they tend to freak out. “That sounds scary!” Or “I‘m praying for you.”

I understand this. When a friend of mine showed me a clot that he had in his leg, I was pretty surprised that he was up and about and not falling over in front of me. “Shouldn’t he be more worried?” I thought.

But now I think I understand his point of view a little better. People die from blood clots. Like I said, an American dies once every five minutes from one.

Maybe it is just that those of us who have had one (or two!) of them and survived realize that we are past the deadly part — we’re alive and life keeps happening.

I appreciate that the possibility of death looms every second that I’m alive. I appreciate the prayers of others for my health and my family’s well-being. Really, I’m grateful!

But I’m also grateful for drinkable running water. Water is essential for living, but most Westerner’s don’t spend time thinking about how blessed they are that they don’t have to walk to a communal well every day to get their water. And I don’t spend time telling them how lucky they are to have running water.

Death looms, but I’m alive.

It takes a lot of infrastructure and work that we don’t usually see to get plenty of fresh water, but I can take a nice long shower.

I’m lucky to be alive. There, I’ve acknowledged it. Can I just get on with living?

2 thoughts on “In which I sound like a cranky ingrate”

  1. I walk a kilometer for beer sometimes, since I don’t have a driver’s license. Anyway, that blood clot story is scary! So, what do I do to prevent blood clots? Eat ?

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