By: Emily Hartman
Autumn has always held a special place in my heart. It’s that time of year when the air turns crisp, leaves transform into a riot of colors, and I eagerly anticipate creating cherished memories with my family. This year was particularly thrilling; I was finally on the mend from a significant surgery and ready to embrace all the joys of the season—apple picking, pumpkin carving, and Halloween festivities.
However, the summer preceding this fall was tumultuous. I struggled with severe premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) and underwent a major surgical procedure. I counted down the days until I could enjoy some much-needed respite and quality time with my loved ones.
Then, in an instant, everything changed.
While walking my daughter to school just a stone’s throw from our home, I felt an overwhelming heaviness in my chest and struggled to breathe. My heart raced, and a wave of panic washed over me, but I masked my fear as I whispered goodbye to my little girl, unaware that it could have been my final farewell.
The reality of my situation hit hard when I learned that nearly a third of those diagnosed with pulmonary embolism do not survive. I slowly made my way home with my son, a journey that typically takes five minutes but stretched into twenty. Once there, I called my husband to express my concerns, insisting we visit the emergency room after he dropped off our son at school. My son, now six, still depends on me for so much—teaching him about the world, especially how to navigate life with severe food allergies.
Despite my anxiety and breathing difficulties, I initially assumed I was suffering from pneumonia or pleurisy again, having a history of asthma and chronic illness.
I was quickly placed in a bed with an IV and subjected to a barrage of tests. The ER doctor delivered the news with a mix of gravity and reassurance—high D-dimer levels indicated a need for further investigation. I felt my heart sink. What was a D-dimer test? It turns out this test measures the risk of blood clots and served as a crucial first step toward saving my life.
The good news was that I would soon have my own room and a CT scan to check for clots. I was administered Lovenox, a blood thinner designed to prevent existing clots from worsening and new ones from forming. An echocardiogram and a Doppler ultrasound of my legs came back clear, providing a brief moment of relief.
Although I had never experienced a blood clot before, I was aware of several risk factors—particularly from taking birth control pills containing supplemental estrogen, my recent surgery, and a period of bed rest. The Mayo Clinic lists additional risks such as pregnancy, cancer, and long travel periods, which can all heighten the chances of developing clots. It was shocking to think that as a woman in my 40s with no previous history of clots, I would find myself in such a precarious situation.
I spent three days in the hospital, where the staff was compassionate and knowledgeable. I missed my family deeply and felt frightened but found solace in their support. My humor helped, too; I affectionately dubbed one nurse “Nurse Ratched” every time she administered a painful injection to my bruised belly, a once nurturing space now resembling a pincushion.
Ultimately, the CT scan revealed multiple bilateral pulmonary emboli. I would need to remain on blood thinners for at least six months, alongside regular blood tests and scans. Although some patients recover quickly, my journey would be long and challenging, particularly as I was still reeling from my recent surgery.
My anxiety, already an issue, spiked dramatically. Daily tasks became overwhelming, but I recognized the importance of staying active to prevent further clots. I’m currently on medication to help manage my anxiety while I navigate this new reality. I hold on to hope that once I finish my blood thinner regimen in the spring, life will return to some semblance of normalcy.
I face the next six months with trepidation, but I draw strength from my family, friends, and medical team. Taking it day by day, I look into the eyes of my children and my husband, grateful that I’m still here to experience life with them. This close brush with death has deepened my appreciation for every moment.
I urge everyone to learn about the symptoms of pulmonary embolism and discuss the risks associated with birth control pills—especially those that contain drospirenone, which can significantly elevate the risk of blood clots. Awareness is key. After all, I didn’t recognize the signs but trusted my instincts that something was wrong. My visit to the ER that day was a lifesaver, allowing me to look forward to enjoying autumn again.
Now, more than ever, I cherish this season.
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Summary
Emily Hartman shares her harrowing experience with a pulmonary embolism, highlighting the importance of recognizing symptoms and understanding risk factors associated with blood clots. She reflects on her near-death encounter with gratitude for family and life, emphasizing the need for awareness of medical conditions that can affect anyone, regardless of age or gender.