BALDIE BOO

I often get asked, “What changed?” How did I go from a broken girl who was letting alopecia shatter the last pieces of her soul to a girl who is out here living her very best life? There are many layers to this answer, but the biggest one dates back to 2 years ago today. Tuesday November 7th, 2019.

Leading up to that Tuesday, everything was hunky dorey. I thought I felt a cold coming on, but it was November and what’s Fall without another cold to remind me why I loathe chilly weather? Sunday I went to the gym and lifted my normal weights and ran my normal 3 miles and enjoyed a lovely day of being a crazy cat lady. Monday morning rolled around and I noticed I had an ache in my chest. I briefly debated going to the doctor, but figured they’d tell me it was viral and send me home with a bill and no relief in hand. Every cough and laugh made the pain just a little bit worse. After consulting my online physician aka Google, I diagnosed myself with pleurisy and called it a day. After work I headed to the gym per usual. I’m a sweat an illness out kinda gal tried and true. Today was different though. I got on the elliptical and could barely breathe. Something about that movement was bugging my lungs. Annoyed I got off the elliptical and got on the treadmill. It literally felt like someone was stabbing my lungs and I had to stop. Which should have been my red flag, but I have a known history of ignoring red flags. Instead of going home I got more annoyed and decided to lift weights. While adjusting the cable tower I noticed a sharp shooting pain up the side of my ribs through my shoulder. My dumb ass just ignored it and continued my workout. “Great, a cold AND a pulled muscle?!?!” I thought. I was NOT a happy camper.

Tuesday I woke up and the pain was STILL there. Both in my chest and up my side and shoulder. I was perplexed. Things got stranger as the day progressed. The walk from my car to the office was EXHAUSTING. I felt off the whole day. Finally, common sense sank in and I made the decision to go to the doctor. The doctor gave me an asthma treatment, took some blood for a d-dimer blood test, and sent me on my way. She told me if the blood test came back positive, they’d call me and I’d have to go to the emergency room to check for a blood clot.

I walked into my apartment ready to eat a quick snack and go to the gym…because I am an insane person. I assumed there was no chance in hell this test was going to come back positive. Then it happened. The most excruciating awful pain I’ve ever felt in my entire line. It literally felt like my ribs were exploding out of my body. I called my mom and wailed to her on the phone for an hour. I tried sitting, standing, laying and everything in between. Nothing was working. I popped 5 ibuprofens in hopes of some relief (10/10 do not recommend). This was the pulled muscle from hell…or so I thought. Just as the ibuprofen was starting to kick in, the doctor called. The test was positive and they wanted me to go to the ER right away. I knew there was no way I could drive because if the pain came back, I’d probably crash my car. I called my friend Sally and without hesitation she took me to the hospital.

Reading this back, I realize all the signs are there, but at the time I still assumed I was fine. While waiting for my MRI results, I predicted the Dr. would come in, tell me I had a respiratory infection and tell me to go home. Yeeeeeah about that. Instead the Dr. came in and told me I had a massive pulmonary embolism branching into both sides of my lungs that was also straining the right side of my heart. SURPRISE! She was shocked that I looked as okay as I did and that my oxygen levels were fine because it was such a large blood clot sitting right smack in my pulmonary artery. Also those pains I was feeling? Not so much a pulled muscle. It was caused by a pulmonary infarct. AKA the blood clot was blocking of blood to cells in my lung that then died. Definitely guessed wrong on that one. I got admitted into the hospital to be monitored and started a course of blood thinners. After 2 days, lots of visitors, and my parents flying into town, I was released.

Thank you Snap Chat for this Hospital bed selfie…

Everything happened SO quickly that I struggled to wrap my brain around it all. Instead I just threw myself another classic Supriya pity party. Why me?! Why did I have to move to Colorado with a crappy BF and stay in a terrible relationship and go through a terrible break up and then get alopecia and lose all of my hair and then get a pulmonary embolism?! Why why whyyyy? A few weeks later I had a follow up appointment and my doctor said something that really hit me. She said if I hadn’t gone to the doctor that day, I would have likely died. The embolism would have either grown or moved and cut off blood supply to my heart. I had spent sooo much time dreading my 35th bday only to learn I almost didn’t make it to my 35th bday.

That was my reality check and one hell of a wake up call. They (whoever “they” are) say life is too short. Well folks, “they” are right. It finally started to click that this wasn’t a why me situation. It was a holy shit balls did I get lucky situation. It was an OMG I could have died but I lived situation! It was an I don’t have my hair but I have my life kinda situation. I let those thoughts simmer inside of my brain as February and the big 3-5 crept closer. That birthday, February 3rd 2018, I thanked God, the Universe, and everything in between for giving me the gift of making it to that day. I made a decision to start living like I’ve never lived before. Because it took almost losing my life for me to truly start living again.