Pulmonary Embolism

Hey community, I hope everyone having a good time.

I want your perspective if you’re up to share!
6 months ago I got hospitalized due to pneumonia, pulmonary embolism, multiple DVT in my calf, I spent a week in the hospital until I want critical so I got discharged.

Since then I developed anxiety sometimes leads to panic and I end up in the ER doing all kind of checkups to make sure my pain is addressed and I’m healthy..

I’ve been working with therapy since then, doing mindfulness practices, and CBT techniques, my anxiety decreased but it’s still there..

two months ago I got diagnosed with anxiety disorder and adhd. Oh btw I’m 40 yo, so yeah it was quite the news for me… the doctor prescribed for me Prozac for my anxiety, but somehow I developed resistant, I don’t like medication and I already take pills for hypertension, anticoagulants (blood thinner) and another one to balance the high colestoral caused by the blood thinner pill…

The doctor emphasized on the benefit of Prozac on the long term, and she said there is no interference, let’s try and see how my body react…I’m still unable to come around and take the pill for some reasons…

Anyone has similar experience can share their insights, or what would help you making the decision if you were in my place?

Thanks for taking the time and reading my post 🩵
#Anxiety #ADHD

Hi, my name is StopTheClot. I'm here because

#MightyTogether #PulmonaryEmbolism #DeepVeinThrombosis

So, I've never really been into children, I've always loved animals. I'm married, now aged 55. I've had countless dogs, cats, even horses. I did livestock for the fairs when I was young, I know and have experienced the life and death cycles of the all too short lives of our pets. And I've had some really special animals over the past, from my first dog when I was 5, to the dogs and horses I have today. I also have a long history of depression and anxiety. I have ptsd from medical trauma (I had a pulmonary embolism due to AFib and the ER doc had told me that my situation was very dire and might not survive, it was extremely frightening for me) so COVID was initially quite terrifying for me and still remains a point of fear (I still mask) due to my underlying health conditions. OK, enough of the background.

I have two rescue dogs, Bella and Lola. Lola we got as a puppy, and she is one of a kind. I've never had a dog like this. Smart, emotive, intuitive, funny, vocal, beautiful, unique...much to the point where I have found myself grieving her loss in advance, if that makes any sense. We became even closer over the pandemic, working from home, and then she had both knees replaced so I was her nursemaid and she lived in my bedroom where she's pretty much stayed ever since.

I often find myself looking at Lola and saddened, sometimes to the point of tears, knowing that I will lose her and feeling like when that day comes, I won't be whole again. I'm not sure how this has happened. I've never fixated on an animal like this before. It's like knowing that someone has a terminal illness. In an animal's case, it's knowing that their life is short. But instead of enjoying her while I have her, every day feels bittersweet because it's a day less instead of a day more. Now she's aged 8, and as a larger breed, the feeling that time is growing short is getting more intense and my grief seems to be growing with it.

I know the obvious answer is to see a therapist. I just wonder, has this happened to any of you, whether about an animal or a human? Or is this really way out there? It's so painful, it's such a painful thing to look at her with such love and such hurt at the same time. I sometimes feel like I won't survive her loss when it happens. Despite having family, and friends, that the absence will be too much for me. Maybe this is a pandemic/lockdown mental health issue. I just don't know. But I had to get this out somewhere, even if it's weird. Because I don't understand it and it scares me a little. Thanks for listening, and I hope you can be kind.

#Grief #Depression #Anxiety #PTSDSupportAndRecovery #PulmonaryEmbolism #AtrialFibrillationAndStroke

#SexualTrauma . I have recently suffered a pulmonary embolism, blood clots in my lungs. As part of the follow up I have to have a transvaginal scan. I know it’s important, but I am terrified about the memories, flashbacks, dissociation etc. My abuse started at the age of about 5 with things being pushed inside me before it escalated over time.

I have avoided smear tests and sex for a long time, even though I’m married, but the thought of this scan, of the position I will have to lie in and what they will push inside me is really scary.

I don’t have anyone one to come with me, I wouldn’t want anyone to be there while those parts of my body are exposed. I will probably be fine during it, but react when I get home, when I’m completely alone.

I also have bipolar disorder and can be prone to harming when distressed. I wondered about letting my psychiatrist know to see if he could just talk me through how to get through this, but he is difficult to get in touch with and I done have an appointment for another 2 months.

I wondered about writing it down and giving it to the radiographer person. I’m not sure I can find the words to say it out loud.

I would welcome any suggestions, it’s important that I do this and it could be the difference between life and death if I get another embolism.

Thank-you
#CPTSD #Bipolar2Disorder

I was able to manage to go for three years from early 2018 without wilfully hurting myself physically. I abstained and somehow managed to avoid succumbing to the urges to cut myself and hurt myself in general.
I promised my partner back then that I would not.

I went on to suffer a pulmonary embolism a few months later but get married to my partner a year later after a lot of melodrama from the families. Through the rough patches of marriage, the pandemic, major mood swings and self harm triggers right in front of me often (having to deal with my partner's) I managed to stay 'sober' so to speak.

Up until a few days ago when everything got to the point that I could not take it anymore. My family were being terrible to both my partner and myself, the amount of gaslighting could have blown up the house and it turned out that I was weaker than I thought.

I succumbed to the urge.

My mom kept drilling the point that my partner was bad for me, that we were molly coddling each other, that I do not have ADHD and should focus on doing my work efficiently, that and that the only reason I am still stuck depressed is because I say that I have depression and that I should just think positive.

I have never indulged in any substances and do not mean any disrespect to people who have had to grapple with substance abuse, but I really feel like an addict who has relapsed.

I did it once and then again and then again and I've been doing it since. I spoke to my therapist about it, they gave me some ideas to cope, I tried them, pushed them to their limits and then just started cutting again.
I had a suicidal episode the other night and despite formulating multiple plans on how to make all this stop I somehow managed to lock the knife in a drawer and exhaust myself crying on the floor.
I've been incapable of focusing on anything since.
My partner thankfully came and picked me up from my place the moment my therapist informed them of what happened that night.

I know I should be relieved that I'm away from home right now, but I feel hollow, I feel guilty for making a fuss and worrying them, I feel guilty for not being able to even sign-in to work since Wednesday, pretending that I was sick.

I'm just so exhausted. Part of me doesn't want to go on, but part of me doesn't want to die.