I told Dr. Shelly the whole story. Didn't leave anything out. Told her that the first thing they diagnosed was the Afib. And as the stroke was so very small, the Afib is the monster in the closet. Afib is what causes strokes. I, and whatever medical team I have, have to proceed with the idea I can have Afib anytime.
There is no physiological evidence I had a stroke. All my fingers and toes work. My legs and arms work. My tongue works. My jaw works. My tear ducts work. My tear ducts seem to work overtime. I wonder when they'll figure out there's no time and a half.
So Dr. Shelly tells me what I know already, that I will have to be on warfarin (Coumadin) or some sort of blood thinner/anticoagulant for the rest of my life.
She did pointedly say this should _Not_ prevent my GCS surgery.
So we talk about my leg, the thing that started this round of Dr. visits. I explain the places where I hurt. My hip is almost chronic low pain. And my leg above the ankle is hurting to some degree most of the time. My calf and my thigh and outside thigh hurt a lot more occasionally. I tell her I've been taking Advil and Aleve. Haven't really tried Tylenol. I told her sometimes an increased dose of Advil helps some. Then she quietly tells me that because of the warfarin, I can't take the Advil or Aleve. They cause issues with bleeding in my stomach and can mess up the INR readings on my ability to clot. I can try tylenol or another drug. I decided to try Tylenol for now but I am not encouraged. She said I would probably need X-rays of my leg and hip and back eventually. Just that I should put that off for now because of the costs. Oh, fun =/
As she leaves and I walk up to the lab for my first blood test for my INR, tears start to form. All of this is getting to me. I am tired. I feel old. And I feel like I've lost... Not sure what game or sport or race I've lost, but lose it I did. Or that's the feeling. That and the feeling I've let people important to me down. I know I've let myself down.
I'll get past this. I always get past things... I survive. But I am tired of surviving. I am tired of being brave. What I want to do is find a nice quiet corner and curl up into a ball and cry.