A little history lesson about my life to begin with.
Back in 2014, I woke one morning to find I could hardly breath. I found it increasingly difficult to catch my breath and even complete a whole sentence.Panic alarms in my head went into over drive, I really thought I was going to pass out.
My wife ring 111 to get some medical assistance/advice as it was getting worse.
The guy on the other end didn’t seem to understand I couldn’t talk, as every breath was being kicked out of me every time I tried to speak.
Eventually, he understood I was in a bad way.
First the paramedics arrived who assessed me and confirmed that there was something present in my chest that was causing concern. After administering Codeine and gas and air, the radioed for an ambulance.
After arriving at the hospital, I was transferred to a cubicle and waited for the nurse/doctor.
When they arrived, they advised me I needed routine blood tests. ‘F**k!’ I thought, ‘I hate needles’, who does right?
So, having avoided blood tests the majority of my life, I was now facing more anxiety. Eventually I had to reside to the fact I needed these tests.
I was also advised that I needed a chest x-ray to “rule out” certain things.
It seemed to take forever, and I was getting more frustrated and stressful as the time went on.
Finally, the doctor came back and explained I need to go up AMU (Acute Medical Unit) where are would be required to have some more tests, namely blood oxygen tests, and to make matters worse, the blood had to be extracted from my wrists. OUCH!
After yet more waiting and after the tests I was informed that I need to be injected with Clexane…”WTF?” I thought whilst calmly asking the nurse what that is…
“Its an anti-coagulant, it is prescribe for people who we suspect as having a blood clot”
“A blood clot? how? why? what’s happened?”, I stuttered.”You have a suspected PE”, she replied
“What’s a PE? I’m not medically trained” I thought the level of sarcasm was enough to make light of the situation.
“A Pulmonary Embolism, basically a blood clot has formed and broken away and found it’s way to you lungs.”
At first, it didn’t register what she had said, I knew it was serious, but the enormity hadn’t sunk in.
I was discharged from hospital around 8.40pm, having spent some 11 hours in hospital.
I got home, and it hit me like a steam train, the words what the medical staff said echoed around me head.
‘I could have died that day’…
Those six little words devastated me, I sat most of the night in disbelief, in silence and utter shock.
August 2014, I nearly exited this world. The more I thought it, the worse I felt and questioning myself I wondered what and why this was happening to me.
To make matters worse, I had heard that a school friend (Kev – God bless his soul) had suffered a Pulmonary Embolism, but never made it.
Now when you hear all that and have it running around your mind constantly, it is very difficult not to feel depressed.
Sadly, that is what happened.
For a long-time and to be fair, even now I still have bouts of depression, and the worst part is it can come at any time, without warning, just that little thought inside your head repeating “you could have died”.
I know a lot of people reading this will think I should be grateful to be alive, and I should cherish it. The fact is, I do, but depression can be overwhelming. You could have 1 million positives in your life, but that 1 thing can destroy it all in one go.
More to follow…