Endoscopic view of flowing red blood cells in a vein, illustration

 


In the early 1970s, I read P.S. Your Cat Is Dead, a novel by James Kirkwood, Jr. This is what I remember: A man, who has had a horrible day, including being dumped by his girlfriend on New Year’s Eve, comes home to find a burglar in his home. He reacts with fury, attacks the burglar, and ties him to a table. Then, as if the man’s day hadn’t been bad enough, the burglar tells him that his cat is dead.

So why am I starting with this story? Well, our friends and those following my blog know that my husband Bob and I have had some physical challenges the past few years, including Bob’s near brush with death three times. Last I wrote, I struggled with eye issues while Bob was dealing with a painful back. My eyes are another story, not worthy of comment. You’ll understand why as you continue reading.

First, the good news: Bob’s back surgery was a success. That was early July.

The rest of the story is told in cliff notes because some of it is too private to share. Bob had his surgery on Tuesday, July the 5th, and was sent home two days later. The following two days were hellish, and by Saturday, I had to call 9-1-1. In the ER, they drained massive amounts of fluid that had built up in his body. He was then admitted to the hospital and stayed there for the next three days. Although not well when released, he was no longer swollen like a pregnant woman at the end of her ninth month. Again, I will not go into details about what he endured and what I witnessed over the next few weeks.

Fast forward two months and numerous doctor’s appointments (primarily online), scans, and tests later. And this is where P.S. Your Cat Is Dead comes into play because it’s about someone having awful, and then, oh, by the way, there’s more.

To the shock of his doctors, a recent CT scan, followed up by an MRI, revealed Bob has a PVT, which stands for Portal Vein Thrombosis in his liver. We were told to get to the Emergency Room, so we stopped everything we were doing and left the house. Bob had another CT and more blood drawn. For hours, we sat wondering if Bob would be admitted. We welcomed the news that we could leave and were all smiles of relief as we drove home.

Numerous specialists (liver, hematology, gastroenterology, urology, neurology) consulted with each other. Bob had more scans and so many blood tests I’m surprised he has any blood left. Finally, Bob was cleared to take Eliquis, a state-of-the-art blood thinner.

Yesterday, we met Bob’s liver specialist in person and got the shocking news that Bob doesn’t just have one blood clot in his liver—he has numerous blood clots. I teased him that this was not the time for him to be an overachiever. One clot would have more than sufficed.

What does this mean? We’re not sure. Reviewing information on PVTs shows that, while treatable, they are potentially lethal. Bob could die.

Of course, that’s not what we’re focusing on. We focus on being well and enjoying our days. But this can’t stop what’s in the back of our minds. Bob has a serious condition that could kill him. We’d be foolish not to acknowledge this reality. We’d be foolish not to do everything we can, including learning enough to ask the doctors important questions. After the doctor told us about the multiple clots, I asked him to tell us any symptoms we should look for that would tell us the clot is moving.

I’m focusing here only on the blood clot, but Bob has other unpleasant medical challenges, which I feel are too personal to write about.

We are in precarious territory, and no happy or positive thoughts will change that. His blood clot doesn’t care if we’re positive.

What does matter is that eyes wide open, we continue to do everything to dissolve the clots, keep them from moving, and help the doctors help us. What matters is that we stay as healthy as we can by eating well and exercising. What matters is that we find ways to enjoy every day despite walking on this tightrope of we’re here now and we don’t know for how long.

What matters is saying I love you and meaning it.