05/09/2019
Hi friends, give this a read this mental health awareness week and know you’re not alone if you’re struggling.
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I’ve thought and thought about this and struggled to put it into words but here is a story of one of my more recent struggles.
For those of you that don’t know me my name is Maria McDowell, I am a yoga instructor at Viva La Lemon Yoga Studio. Many of you knew me before I began teaching here and to some of you we’re new friends because of the studio. What some of you may not know is I have had my own mental health struggles, mainly with anxiety. I have wrote previous posts/blogs about it if you’re interested in the backstory of me first identifying what was even going on back in 2017.
For the most part once I realized I had anxiety and received treatment I have been in a state of thriving and managing my mental illness. However this winter I found I moved into a place of not thriving so much for about a month.
I need to take you back to July 2018 to understand where this story begins. On July 1 I began having episodes of extreme shortness of breath and my right leg had been hurting for a few days. Immediately my thoughts went to pulmonary embolism but being a stubborn nurse I ignored the signs. On July 2 I woke up and was extremely short of breath with a racing heart, I knew I couldn’t ignore this, I went to a walk in clinic and was sent to the ER. Not too long after arriving I was receiving a CT scan and getting a needle in my stomach to thin my blood.
I remember sitting in the hallway on a stretcher after my CT and the doctor from the ER had followed me down to watch the test be done. (Since all this took place I’ve worked in the ER and I’ve learned the doctor doesn’t usually tag along for your CT.) He walked out of the room and said, “it’s what we thought, you have a pulmonary embolism.” I wasn’t too shocked and asked where? He said, “everywhere”, and walked away. I began crying in that hallway terrified of what was next, I thought a small little embolism no big deal but an embolism everywhere!?!
I stayed in the hospital for 2 days to have my heart monitored as an embolism that size should have caused damage to my heart. As one doctor said, “if you were an older lady this would of killed you.” Luckily I had no damage to my heart.
I also received an ultrasound of my right leg to find multiple deep vein thrombosis. This is where the clots originated. The following 2 weeks was the worst pain I ever experienced in my life, I couldn’t walk 10 feet without excruciating pain, I had to sit around all day with my leg up. I couldn’t even sit at the supper table because my leg hanging hurt too much. Slowly the pain got better and 2 months later I was happy to be able to run 200m without pain. I remember 2.5 weeks after it happened I was determined to return to work, I figured if I could walk a square block I could go back to work, I had to stop half way and sit on the sidewalk.
Through all of this physical unwellness I stayed very positive. I was happy my body had kept me alive. I was grateful for having being physically active before and building up cardiovascular strength to keep my heart pumping when others hearts may have stopped. I was happy a month later to be walking as I know some with DVTs never get rid of the pain and can’t mobilize well.
When this all happened I was put on Dalteparin injections for a month, a needle in the stomach to thin the blood. After this I was put on oral blood thinners till I saw the hematologist (a blood specialist).
And this is where my story of mental unwellness begins. I saw the hematologist on January 23 and they told me I could quit my blood thinners and in a week go get blood tests for blood clotting conditions. I was nervous to quit my blood thinners, what if I developed another blood clot and died this time.
I kept these thoughts at bay and a week later went and had my blood tests. Another week went by and I got a call from my family doctors office to tell me the hematologist phoned them and they wanted me to have liver function tests done. I was about to go to work and I remember driving to work and bursting into tears, I thought for sure something was wrong with me, why would they want more tests!?I feel like I walked through my day in a daze so fixated on what was wrong with me.
I worked for a few days and couldn’t get to the lab to have the tests. I got the blood tests done right before we drove to Minot to fly to Las Vegas. I had myself right worked up inside, going over all the thoughts of how I was for sure going to die or get sick in the states and not know what to do.
For any of you who have struggled with anxiety you may know it can often manifest as physical symptoms. I kept thinking I was short of breath or that I felt a pain in the back of my leg. I somewhat voiced these thoughts to my boyfriend but tried to laugh it off as nothing. I made him repeat the signs of stroke to me. I was also extremely irritable, so overwhelmed with fear that minor unimportant things made me so upset.
We got to Minot and boarded the plane and I thought, “well this is it, I’m for sure going to have a heart attack up there, I hope someone knows CPR.” We took off and made it to Vegas and I was still alive.
I enjoyed my week but was constantly thinking about how any moment the shortness of breath would strike. I had taken a bottle of Aspirin 81mg with me to take once a day to try and make myself feel safe being on a blood thinner.
The week finished and I again was afraid I would die on the plane but once again survived. I had myself so worked up though I was convinced I had chest pain the whole flight home. We landed and drove the three hours home and my chest pain worsened, I had stabbing jaw pains, I felt it between my shoulder blades and down my left arm. I thought I was for sure having a heart attack.
Laine said well if you think you’re having a heart attack I’ll take you to a doctor. I said once we got back into Canada I would go. Once in Canada I said once we’re back to Brandon I’ll go. We got back to Brandon and the pain had improved, I only felt it in my jaw. I said since it was gone I wouldn’t go to the doctor.
I knew I should go to a doctor, I knew this wasn’t physical illness but mental illness yet I couldn’t face that fact. The next day I called my doctors office, the line was busy and I tried to call 7 times in 30mins before I got through. My Doctor was already full for the day. I probably cried for an hour I was so upset. The next day I called at 9 on the dot when they opened, they said they were full. (My doctor does same day scheduling for afternoon appointments but just switched to it so his staff haven’t quite perfected it yet.) The clerk asked if it was something serious and she could maybe get me in, I told her “just some mental health troubles.” She made an appointment for me 8 days later. I was upset with myself, maybe if I hadn’t said the word “just” she would of realized it was serious.
It worked out though that I couldn’t get in immediately, over those 8 days I started to climb out of my hole and realize I was ok. I wasn’t dieing, I didn’t have more blood clots. It was all going to be ok.
I saw my doctor 8 days later and he did his due diligence and got me an EKG and bloodwork and it was all ok. He explained to me that the hematologist had wanted liver function tests just because they noticed I had one random elevated test months before, not because I had some clotting condition.
It was probably another month before the jaw pain went away. I think this was a combination of me clenching my jaw less and my anxiety improving.
Through some reading I found that these feelings are common to those who survive critical illness. Common in those who stay in the ICU, survive sepsis, survive cancer and really survive any major medical conditions Some specialist call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and some call it Post Intensive Care Syndrome. The research varies but some say at least 10% will experience this and some say up to 60% of people will. People with these conditions related to medical illness have fear of another episode happening, obsessively research the thing that almost killed them, develop feelings of your death being imminent. Sometimes this PTSD manifests as muscle weakness, memory loss, depression, anxiety, nightmares.
I’ve never officially been told I have PTSD but I would say a lot of the above applied to me. I was living in constant fear. I’m not going to say the thoughts are all gone now but they’re certainly a lot less.
Things that helped me move through this episode were talking to a friend, seeking out help from my doctor, practicing yoga, doing CrossFit, practicing mindfulness, reading the books ‘the untethered soul’ and ‘eastern body, western mind’, continuing to take my anti-anxiety medication as prescribed.
Being a nurse I see it all the time, people coming into the ER with all these physical symptoms that are actually symptoms of their underlying anxiety. Fear of another major illness because of previous major medical events. I’m not saying all chest pains should be wrote off as anxiety but maybe when you see a friend struggling with a bunch of vague physical ailments, yes take the physical symptoms seriously but also ask about their life, talk to them. Often there is much more going on.
