Like Getting Blood Clots From A Stone

| Melbourne, VIC, Australia | Working | February 12, 2014

(There’s a family history of blood clots and I’ve been showing symptoms for a few days. One hospital cleared me several days prior but my leg is now double the size and purple. I’m at another hospital and have been waiting for six hours.)

Doctor: “So [Other Hospital] said you don’t have a clot?”

Me: “That’s right but my symptoms have worsened.”

Doctor: “This can’t be a clot if they said it’s clear.”

Me: “Then why am I showing every symptom?”

Doctor: “It’s probably just a muscle tear, and you are taking up important bed space. You need to leave.”

Me: “But if this is a clot it could kill me! I’m not going anywhere until you rescan it.”

Doctor: “That’s not going to happen. You need to leave!”

(My mum is with me and seeks out the chief resident and makes a complaint. The doctor returns.)

Doctor: “Fine! I’ll do one blood test. If it’s positive then we’ll see about the scan!”

(They draw blood and come back 30 minutes later. The doctor doesn’t say anything, just takes the brake off my bed and wheels me away.)

Me: “Where are we going?”

Doctor: “… I’m taking you for the scan.”

(The best bit? Not only did I have a blood clot, I had two at 20 cm each, a total of 40 cm and the radiologist said I was only a few hours off needing surgery or the clots migrating to my lungs. By the time I got back to the ward I had a new doctor!)

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