I don’t know what I had planned for this post, but I think it was something different. I wanted to talk about my birthday – I’m 36 today – and I started working on this post like all of my other ones, by looking for images and artwork that inspire and motivate me. In doing that, I came to the sudden and very dramatic realization that I don’t think anyone cares about the big 36. If I was turning 21, 25, 30, or even 40, there seemed to be plenty of images to choose from, but not a single one for 36.
So, I started thinking about it, and against my better judgement, I decided to take inventory of what 36 looks like. I have grey hair at my temples. I have wrinkles around my eyes and around my lips. My upper arms are flabby. My thighs rub together – and jiggle – when I walk. My stomach flab is flabbier than I would like. I pulled a longer-than-I-would-like-to-admit hair off of my neck the other day. For the first time in my life, I purchased skin firming lotion. I think it fights the seven signs of aging, but I’m hoping it fights fat too.
I decided to take inventory of what 36 feels like, because I thought it felt the same. It doesn’t. Most days, I feel pretty good, but little things occur every once in a while, that never used to. I can’t wear contacts anymore without my eyes feeling like sandpaper. I’m much more sensitive to hot and cold temperatures than I ever used to be. My stomach no longer appreciates the hottest hot peppers on the planet. I can barely finish a half a glass of red wine or a half a bottle of beer. If I don’t get enough sleep, I get angry, really angry.
I guess I got old.
I let that thought sink in for quite some time, and I realized, I don’t like it at all.
I still have a lot of living to do. I want to see more of the world, continue to help people through my career, and maybe even have a family one day.
I survived something that many people do not, and on second thought, I realized I was thinking about this all wrong. My body – and my mind – have been through a lot of changes these past six years.
Maybe I have grey hair at my temples because I have been through, and come out on top of, a lot of health-related stress. I have wrinkles around my eyes and around my lips, because I try to spend a lot of time laughing. My upper arms are flabby, my thighs rub together – and jiggle – when I walk, my stomach flab is flabbier than I would like, and my husband still thinks I’m sexy. I pulled a longer-than-I-would-like-to-admit hair off of my neck the other day, and now it’s gone. For the first time in my life, I purchased skin firming lotion, and if it makes me feel good, why not?
I can’t wear contacts anymore without my eyes feeling like sandpaper, but I can rock a great pair of glasses. I’m much more sensitive to hot and cold temperatures than I ever used to be, so thank goodness for tank tops and super-soft wraps. My stomach no longer appreciates the hottest hot peppers on the planet, and to be fair, they were the hottest peppers on the planet. I can barely finish a half a glass of red wine or a half a bottle of beer, but I never really drank a lot any way. If I don’t get enough sleep, I get angry, really angry, so I need to make sure I get sleep.
Then, I came to another realization: None of my complaints about myself have to do with my blood clot, my recovery, or my long-term treatment. Taking blood thinners, going to monthly doctor’s appointments, and seeing four or five specialists are not things that make me feel old. If those things don’t make me feel old, what reasons do I have to feel old? The things I have survived, and the things that I do to take care of myself now, remind me of where I have been, how far I have come, and what I need to do to live a long life.
It has been six years since my DVT, and life-threatening PE. Now, as many of you know if you read my blog, I consider myself recovered. I still take anticoagulants (warfarin) and will for the foreseeable future. I get my INR tested about once a month to ensure my medication is keeping me safe from clotting and unwanted bleeding. I go to follow-up appointments with my hematologist every three months. I stay alert for signs and symptoms of blood clots, or changes to my health because of antiphospholipid syndrome. Physically, I am doing well. I don’t have regular pain or ongoing swelling in my leg. My breathing is back to normal, and I have been walking and jogging again without too much of a struggle. Emotionally, I am also doing well. My experiences – and my worry about future experiences – no longer plague my every thought. I will always struggle with anxiety (particularly related to my health), fear of the unknown, and fear of pain. I deal with it as it comes, and I try to treat myself with the same kindness and understanding that I show to others.
I don’t blog as much as I used to — and maybe I will change that now that I am 36 – but that doesn’t mean I’m not continuing my work. Nearly all of my time is spent providing information and support to people who are recovering from blood clots, both on a professional and personal level. This is the work that I do every day, and I am grateful for the love, support, and encouragement that I receive from you each day. Thank you for making the work that I do possible. I’m a real person on the other side of this platform, and your encouragement for me means just as much to me as my encouragement for you means to you. As always, if you need immediate support, the best place to connect with me is in my private group on Facebook: BCRN Facebook Support.
Birthdays are to be celebrated, and I am heading into my 36th year with a lot of expectations for the future. I have a lot left to do, experience, say and share. I want to share my travels, more about my daily life with antiphospholipid syndrome, and more about my life with blood thinners. If I do have a family in the future, I want to share that experience with all of you too. I want to write about some of the things that have happened to me, that I just haven’t had time to do yet. I want to build a life – and a legacy – with my husband. We are not meant to live this life alone, afraid, or in the dark. If sharing my experiences can continue to help someone else, that is what I choose to do. I have been given the experience, the tools, and the determination to do so, and I won’t stop here.
So, let the celebration begin. In honor of my birthday, I am giving you a gift. You read that right! One lucky blog follower will receive a silver “Not Alone” Mantraband for my birthday. Mantrabands are simple, elegant bracelets with an uplifting message; promoting a lifestyle of optimism, positivity, mindfulness. Mantras got me through some of my hardest days in recovery. Wear this bracelet as your daily reminder that you are not alone in what you are going through. You are not alone in your recovery from blood clots. There is hope for healing.
My 36th Birthday Giveaway Details
9/4/18: This giveaway has ended. Congratulations to Anita Jude! Please check your inbox for an email from me, or email email@example.com to claim your Mantraband.
Use the Rafflecopter widget below to enter. Only entries through Rafflecopter will be eligible. This is a service that I use to keep track of entries, and to ensure a fair contest. Giveaway runs from August 30, 2018 – September 3, 2018. BCRN will randomly select one (1) winner on Tuesday, September 4, 2018. Winner will be notified on social media and via email, and will have until Thursday, September 6, 2018 to claim his/her prize. A new winner will be selected on Friday, September 7, 2018, if original winner does not respond.
Although this is a gift to you in honor of my 36th birthday, the cost of the Mantraband plus shipping is coming out of my own funds. Please, U.S. shipping/delivery addresses only. Thank you! Silver “Not Alone” Mantraband is valued at $25, plus shipping.
There is hope for healing, and you are not alone.
Reader Writes In: What is your favorite mantra, phrase or quote? If you want to enter the Mantraband giveaway, click on the Rafflecopter above to leave your comment. If you choose not to enter, or if the giveaway has ended, please share your favorite mantra in a comment below.
Hope for healing after blood clots is a gift that you all have access to right now. Find out how I did it, and how you can too.
You are not alone. Connect with the private BCRN Facebook community for more inspiration and encouragement.