Yesterday I got some shocking news, and while it isn’t directly related to my writing, it is related to me, the author. I’d like to share this news with you.
A couple of week ago, my leg started hurting. I thought it was from where I had my feet up on the seat in front of me at the movies, but when it didn’t go away, I started complaining. I finally made an appointment to go to the doctor’s about it, thinking that they were just going to write me off as a pulled muscle. To my utter dismay, they didn’t do that. They rushed me to radiology where I went through an ultrasound, and that’s where they found it.
I have a blood clot in the calf of my right leg, something that I never would have dreamed. It’s called a DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis), and while it’s not in an artery, it’s still very dangerous. A piece could break off at any time and end up in my lung or heart or in a major artery.
But the point of this – me writing this post – isn’t for attention or sympathy.
I’m writing this because everything seems so little in the grand scheme of things now. I’m 18 years old today, I have a low-risk, life-threatening clot, and I’ve never been more calm about my future and the people in it. Whatever is supposed to happen is going to happen, and there’s no way that I can stop it.