D-Dimer, you are a thorn in my side.
I went to the Hematologist yesterday to discuss my uber high number (mid 300s). First I had to get blood drawn. Not something I am not used to but the technician wasn't as used to me as most others were. I was wearing a button down shirt and the arm was a little tight so I couldn't roll it up completely soooo naturally I said "Hmm, looks like I have to take off my shirt". I started to unbutton and the tech quickly shouted "No!" I guess not many people offer to strip so they can take a proper blood sample.
He said no need for that, I'll get you a gown. I explained that I had a bra on and that it didn't bug me, but it bugged him! Then he came at me kind of shaky with the needle and I had to stop him and tell him to calm down. After that, things ran smoothly and I am not bruised on my arm!
When I saw my Hematologist, I told her that I felt like I was hesitant when I would speak. She called my Neurologist to see what she thought about that and I was quickly whisked away to the Neurologist's office top speed. After taking a visual test with my Neuro, (the greatest ever Dr. Myrna Cardiel) I was sent to get an MRI. Normally, I don't terribly mind getting these tests except because of whatever is going on with me right now, I had to be in the machine for 1.5 hrs, the longest I had ever heard of. This freaked me out. For those of you who have never had an MRI, it's not fun. It's loud, you hear all kinds of banging and you have to stay perfectly still otherwise the pics mess up. Did I mention that it's super tiny and you get claustrophobic?
I made sure to stop home and get together a nice playlist for my MRI; some calm Flying Lotus, Thundercat and of course, some Jillionaire :) I was all covered with a blanket and had my headphones on. Ok, 1.5 hrs in a tube and can't move. All types of things run through your head when you have that time on your hands, especially when the tech doesn't ask if you would like the volume adjusted on your headphones before you begin! I could only hear the faint whisper of the music against the loud clanging of the magnets of the machine. I started to think about all the things that could be wrong with me and let me tell you, you think about some pretty ugly nasty not so good things when you can't move and are in a plastic tube in an uncomfortable and airy hospital gown.
But...I survived. The test was over and I was free to go. I walked home afterwards thinking again of what could be wrong. I hate that my levels are funky and that my mind is cloudy. Why is it cloudy? Why am I feeling hesitant? What is going on?
D-Dimer, once again, I really hate you. I wish I wasn't positive, I wish my level was below 245. You're not welcome here. I was doing well. Get out!