I remember sitting in Truro hospital, roughly 200 miles away from my family, and there was a poster on the wall. It seems an odd thing to recall but when I was sitting alone in some waiting room, I was trying to find any way to distract myself.
It was May 2011, I was in my final year at Exeter University and in the midst of exams, my dissertation and interviews for teaching courses. To add to those worries, I’d twisted my knee doing a high kick at my Tang Soo Do club and was awaiting the results of an MRI scan. I’d only just had keyhole surgery in 2010 for a cartilage tear in my right knee and I was worried I’d damaged it again. The very last thing on my mind was a blood clot.
In the first week of May, I’d travelled from Falmouth (in Cornwall where I was studying) back home to Southampton by train, and then had gone from there up to Oxford for a PGCE interview. It was after the eight hour travel from Cornwall that I noticed a dull ache in my left calf. I went to the doctor while I was home in Southampton and was advised to rest.
However, when I returned to Falmouth the pain was so bad I couldn’t put my heel down on the floor. I went to another doctor’s surgery there and they asked what my concerns were. I explained about the pain worsening, how I’d had several long train journeys but despite resting my leg was no better. The GP asked me lots of questions, but it was only when I mentioned a certain combined contraceptive pill that she seemed concerned. Despite the fact I was on the pill for my Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, she explained that it has a higher risk of blood clots. She referred me to the hospital, gave me an injection of heparin “just in case” but reassured me that she’d probably see me back once they’d ruled anything more serious out.
Unfortunately, I had to sit my History exam the following morning - sitting still for about three hours! Luckily my University were very accommodating and put me at the back of the room and let me go for ‘walks’ outside the room with a chaperone! So, I sat the exam, worried about my leg all the way through it, before I then caught the bus to hospital.
They did the D Dimer test, which detects small protein fragments present in the blood. The nurse Heather told me it would be very unlikely the results would come back positive but unsurprisingly, they did. I was a bit shocked, being only 21 years old, but the symptoms seemed to match. An ultrasound confirmed that all veins in my left calf were blocked.
I was given heparin, put on a six-month supply of Warfarin and had to have my INR (blood clotting speed) measured regularly. However, once the six months was up, I ceased all blood thinners and left the waiting room for the last time, a wiser and more careful person.
Or so I thought.
It was in May 2013, when I was 23 years old, that I next found myself facing a doctor with the word ‘DVT’ on my lips. Almost two years to the day that my first DVT had been diagnosed. How cruel.
Since the first clot, I’d been careful. No more sitting around - I was making sure I moved around once every hour if I needed to. I didn’t go on long trains or flights without moving, I was on a completely different contraceptive pill to control my PCOS and errant hormones and I’d had a repeat of my keyhole knee surgery in 2012 to finally ease the pain.
Yet, I was very surprised when I woke up one morning with a painful cramp, especially as it was in the other leg. It felt again as though there was a hard lump in my leg, and the feeling was similar to my clot before. I know the doctors had warned me that the first clot could damage my veins in my left calf, leading to a higher chance of recurrent clots later on. But this was in the other leg; surely clots can’t appear in the other, unaffected leg?
After a few hours, I discovered that they could.
I was baffled, and the staff in the assessment centre were also slightly bewildered too! I did have a second DVT, but instead of my left calf again this one was behind my right knee. My doctor has sent me here to ‘rule out another DVT’, yet I’d not expected it would confirm one. They had tested me before and tested again, but there was no evidence of anything genetic or anything linked to a blood disorder. It was a different contraceptive pill, it was a different leg. They put it down to bad luck and after another six months of Warfarin I was waved on my way, with all the questions and none of the answers.
To this day, seven years later, and I am still worried about DVTs. I think when something this serious happens to you, it changes your perspective on your health. However, I refuse to let DVTs rule my life.
Naturally there are things I cannot do, such as taking any hormonal medication and further lower limb surgery is a big no, but there are still many things I can do! I’ve changed career to become a Teacher, incredibly rewarding in itself, and I’ve kept up my martial arts and enjoy being a Girl Guide leader. I continue to raise awareness about the risks of DVT and while I may not be on the next flight to Australia, I will continue to enjoy myself and travel with my partner. That is, ensuring I have plenty of space to stretch my legs and stay hydrated of course.
Thankfully, my sense of humour has remained intact! Sometimes I just have to laugh about things, especially when I am fortunate to be able to do so. (Although I draw the line when the tea lady asks if I’d like one lump or two. I’ve had enough lumps to last me a lifetime!)