This fashionable accessory used to be something I wore everywhere, every day.
You can't really see the inscription, but it says, "I take blood thinner."
I ordered this bracelet online in 2000 (yes, they had Interwebs way back then), after my doctors put me on the blood thinner/rat poison Warfarin, to lessen the likelihood of another blood clot zooming through a congenital hole in my heart directly to my brain -- a scary thing that happened to me on June 27, 2000.
I picked this bracelet because it comes with a tiny compartment where I can store a piece of paper with my name, date of birth, primary doctor's name, medical history, medications taken and emergency contact. It's hard to get all that on a piece of paper that will fit into that little compartment, but I did, with 9 point Arial type.
Eighteen years later, I need a way to alert EMTs and ER docs about what's going on with my body, in the event that I can't talk. And it just so happens that the principal reason I need this bracelet is the same as it was in 2000 -- that I take blood thinner (Xeralto this time), which means it might be harder to stop my bleeding, that I might be bleeding internally, or that I really shouldn't have a spinal tap or spinal anesthetic. If I hadn't found the bracelet, I would have ordered another one -- maybe one with a bigger compartment and easier-to-read engraving.
I'm feeling fine, by the way.
I've gone back to the gym. I am allowed to exercise for an hour at a time, as I did before, but my doctor advises less intensity; that means no more interval training on the stationary bike, and no more raising my heart rate into the 100s.
Reluctantly, I'm still following my doctor's advice to stay out of the lap pool and therapy pool. But I've been tempted to go to the pool, just to use the scale in the locker room. (Yeah, right.) The truth is, I miss the people as much as I miss my water time -- not just the Dans and Katie, but the women in the locker room and all the folks who, like me, found healing for their broken parts in this place.
But a doctor's order, especially from a doctor whom I trust and who "gets" me, is something I take seriously. And that same doctor is still trying to figure out what I'm dealing with here. I'll go see her again next week.
Lots of people live with AFib, and the words "heart failure" suggest a condition more scary than mine actually is.
For that reason and others, I am strongly considering participation in next week's American Heart Association Heart Walk, in Warner Park, which is close to my North Side Madison home.
I'm a heart disease survivor and a stroke survivor. I want more women to be survivors, too. And I really, really want a red UW Health long-sleeve T-shirt, because I gave the one from my last heart walk (about 16 years ago) to Jay. It's looking a little ratty now. Maybe Jay will join me and get a new one of his very own.
Madisonians, here's where to sign up: http://www2.heart.org/site/TR?fr_id=3566&pg=entry.
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