Exogenous hormoneshave served women well, but care must be exercised to be aninformed consumer as told in this story.

ALERT: Click HERE to go to the Resources page to see the FDA Warning letter sent to the manufacturer of Yaz in 2009…

 On September 15, 2009, I nearly died. I might have died, had I not instructed an urgent care doctor what blood test to order for me. Understand... I had to tell the DOCTOR what to do. Which is not in my nature, unfortunately. But at that moment something told me my life depended on speaking up.

 The night before, I’d been unable to sleep. When I tried to lay down, I’d get a burning pain through my chest that wrapped around my shoulder, down my back and around to my ribs. So I’d sit up. With each breath in, I’d get the same, but to a much lesser degree. So I tried to sleep sitting up. When my alarm went off at 6:00am on the 15th, I was exhausted. The pain continued, but was tolerable. I showered, got dressed, running through what might be happening in my body to cause this. I drove the hour into town and went to work.

 Throughout the day, a heaviness in my chest descended. By the afternoon, I was having more difficulty breathing in. With each inhalation, a sharp stab would occur, just below and behind my left breast, causing me to catch… then release the shallow amount of air I’d tried to suck in. It wasn’t excruciating… yet. So I kept working, and figured I’d go to the urgent care clinic after hours.

 

At 5:00pm, I did just that. I explained my symptoms. The doctor ordered x-rays. As I sat in a chair, my shoulders curling forward, getting less and less oxygen into my body, he walked in, stared straight into my eyes and said "Your x-rays are clear. Your lungs are fine”. Pregnant pause. I was waiting for him to say "So, we’ll order a….” or "But, I think it might be…”. Something. But I got nothing. I said "So why can’t I breathe? Why do I feel like I’m getting stabbed in the chest?” Nothing. Finally, he said "Well, we can try a brace of some sort, is that what you want?”. I didn’t know – why would I need that? Does he know something he’s just not saying? I said "OK”. The M.A. brought one in, and helped stretch it around my core.

 The doctor stared at me again…. I shrugged my shoulders. My voice now a little more than a whisper, I said "Order a D-dimer”. He looked at me, "What?” "Order a D-dimer”. He scribbled out an order on an RX pad, I’m sure just to get me out of his office. He handed it to me and said "Well, the hospital lab closes at seven”. Thank God I live in a small town, I checked in for the lab at six fifty two.

It took just a few minutes to get the paperwork done and be escorted into the phlebotomy lab. A very nice, tired looking man drew my blood, and told me to drive home safely.

 I got back in my car. Inhale slowly… stab in the chest… hold breath… exhale slowly. I ripped the stupid brace off. I ripped my bra off. The pressure was incredible. I started the car, and began driving home. Twenty minutes outside of town, my cell phone rang. I pulled over and answered with a barely audible "Hello?”. The urgent care doctor said "Elizabeth, your D-dimer results are off the charts. You need to go back to the hospital right now and have a CT scan.” There was apology in his voice, but certainly not in his words. Inhale, STAB, hold, exhale.

 I went into the emergency room and approached the intake window. Inhale, STAB, hold, exhale. Whisper: ”The doctor ordered a CT scan”. Girl behind the glass: "You can’t just come in and have a CT scan, it doesn’t work that way”. Inhale, STAB, HOLD, exhale. "Yes, he said he’d call”. A young Hispanic man wearing baggy black scrubs, looking for all the world like some kind of gang banger- if it weren’t for the compassion in his eyes, shoves his head in front of hers and says "You the one with chest pain?” I nod my head. He disappears for a split second, comes out of a door next to the window and says "Come with me”. He calmly asks if I need a wheel chair. The thought of spending a single moment more being stabbed in the chest while someone found a chair was incomprehensible… "No”. Inhale, STAB, HOLD, exhale.

 He led me back into the ER station. He said to a nurse, "Which bed is open, I got chest pain”. That was my new name. Chest Pain. I knew when they said "chest pain” in the ER, that they’re thinking heart attack. But I wasn’t going to argue. I couldn’t have if I’d wanted to. She pointed to an open bed. The young man disappeared. I now looked like I was having convulsions with every breath, the stabbing pain so severe and so deep. I wanted so badly not to breathe. It’s not exactly something you can control – body needs oxygen – body will try to get oxygen. She told me to take off everything but my underwear and put on the hospital gown, opening in front. She closed the curtain and left. I stripped, and sat hunched over on the gurney, cross-legged, tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t dare sob. She came back, deftly started an IV with a morphine drip and asked me to lay back. She started sticking EKG leads on my chest. I asked her if I could sit up, because the pain was unbearable when I lay down. She propped me up so it was a little better. Once she was done with the EKG she helped me sit back up.

 A CT technician came in and said "Ok, going for a ride, let’s get this CT done. I need you to lay back, please.” "I can’t, it hurts too bad”. "Hmmm. Can we try?” He slowly lowers the back of the gurney. Inhale, stab, hold, exhale. "OK? A little more?”. Inhale, stab, hold, exhale. But it’s tolerable now. Morphine is gooood. By the time we get to the CT lab, I realize I’m breathing a little better, getting a little more oxygen. He’s able to lay me flat for the scan. He delivers me back to my little curtain "room”.

 The nurse comes back in and props me up again. "Feeling a little better?”. "Yes, thank you”. Mmmmmorphine. Finally, just before midnight, the ER physician comes in, and sits down on the stool by my bed. "Elizabeth, you have a large blood clot in your left lung”. Morphine induced response: "No, no I don’t. It’s just pleurisy. Who’s in radiology tonight? Did Kostra read the image? Have her come in on this.” Hard stare. He must’ve thought I was crazy. "So we’re going to admit you…”

 They find me a bed in the step down unit. I’m very tired now, but I’m breathing, sort of. At least the knife seems to be out of my chest. Two nurses get me hooked up to all kinds of monitors, oxygen, IV… Placing the call button near my hand, they tell me to get some sleep. Right.

 Early in the morning I’m wheeled down to the ultrasound lab. A very sweet ultrasound technician spends an hour trying find the primary clot in my legs- which is apparently where most pulmonary emboli are born. She’d squeeze my leg, causing the blood flow to be truncated, then she’d release quickly to see how well the flow would resume. She found no primary clot. My blood flow is excellent. I’m taken back to my room.

 Another technician rolls in an echocardiogram cart. Once again, modesty is pushed to the side along with my gown as he places the transducer on my chest. He says nearly nothing. He’s finished within ten minutes.

 A hospitalist comes in and asks how I’m feeling. I tell him I feel surprisingly fine. He says the echo showed a very healthy, very strong heart. We chatted, as he tried to determine why I might have had this event, and how I came through it with no damage to my heart at all. I don’t smoke, I work out regularly, I eat pretty healthy. My weight is good for my height and age. The only risk factor I had, was that I had just begun taking Yaz birth control to regulate my cycles.

 That’s it. Yaz. I’m sure you’ve seen the commercials touting its benefits… It helps calm the symptoms of PMDD (Pre Menstrual Dysmorphic Disorder). It can also help clear adult acne. Sounds great! Right? Except… I didn’t do my homework. Neither did my gynecologist. I suffered from PMS – but not PMDD. I didn’t even know what PMDD was until after the episode. I knew that birth control pills had a risk of blood clots. But, I didn’t know that Yaz had a higher risk because of it’s combination of estrogen and drosperinone. And that women over the age of 40 should always think twice about birth control pills of any kind.

In the end, really, I’m fine. I have some decreased lung capacity, but I only notice it when I’m really exerting myself – breathing fast and heavy – I get a wheezing. It doesn’t keep me from doing what I need to do. I am so very lucky. Others have had strokes. Others have had heart damage from a pulmonary embolism. Others have died.

 

I will never be able to use hormone therapy for any reason, and I suppose I’m glad I found out when I did rather than later when my body would be older, and perhaps not able to handle the event, or recover as well. I pray menopause will be a breeze. But, I’m doing what I can now, to enter into that phase as healthy, balanced and knowledgeable as I can.

A few years after the pulmonary embolism, I was struggling with my menstrual cycles again. Seemingly having two cycles within one month, then maybe nothing for a couple months. A lot of cramping. A lot of emotional ups and downs. I thought maybe I was pre- menopausal. But since I’ve never had regular cycles off of birth control pills – it was anybody’s guess. I was doing a lot of work on myself – mentally, spiritually and emotionally. And felt I had to grab the bull by the horns to try to learn and perhaps treat my physical self. Western Medicine had failed me. So, I decided to look into natural methods. I contacted a local Naturopathic Physician, Dr. Stephanie Beynon.

What a miracle worker that woman is!!! For over a year now, my cycles are perfectly normal, the cramping minimal, the emotional rollercoaster leveled. And she has treated me with FOOD! A few acupuncture treatments in the beginning. But my medicine is FOOD! Amazing!

So, learn from my mistakes… I didn’t do my homework, I didn’t learn about the medication before I started taking it. I should have asked questions – I should have researched. I’m lucky that because of my medical background, I knew to ask for the D-dimer blood test. If I hadn’t, I’m not sure I’d be here. I don’t know.

 But now YOU know… ALWAYS – ALWAYS – ALWAYS ASK questions. RESEARCH your medications. Make INFORMED decisions. It’s YOUR body, YOUR health, YOUR life. .

By Elizabeth Buckalew

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