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A little over a year ago, I had surgery on my foot and calf, procedures to relieve plantar fasciitis pain. The surgery usually requires a follow-up appointment 5–7 days after the procedure. At this time, the splint/crutches are changed out for a walking boot. My surgery was just before Christmas, which meant my follow-up appointment was closer to 10 days post-surgery. This appointment went well and I was sent home. I was to come back again at the 3 week post-surgery mark to have stitches removed.At my next appointment, the doctor and I were discussing my pain level. When I indicated that my pain had not decreased and showed him where the pain was, he immediately asked if I was short of breath, which I was (although relatively mild). My son had been sick with a respiratory infection just days before, so I didn’t think anything much of my breathing beyond developing a cold. My doctor immediately ended the appointment and instructed me to have my husband take me directly to the ER.Upon arriving at the ER, we explained the situation and that my surgeon asked me to come. The ER was incredibly busy, and we waited in a temporary ER room for about three hours before becoming an official ER patient. When the doctor came to speak with us, he explained that we would first be doing some blood work to determine if there is any indication of a blood clot anywhere. The results took another hour to come back. My numbers were slightly elevated, so they ordered a chest CT and an ultrasound of my leg. The doctor explained what a DVT was (deep vein thrombosis - clot in leg), as well as a PE (pulmonary embolism). He said that based on my symptoms, if a PE was found at all, it would likely be a small clot in one of the outer branches of one of my lungs.Again, we waited another hour before someone took me back for my CT. When I returned to my room, they immediately started the ultrasound of my leg. Mid-ultrasound, my doctor returned with a shocked look on his face. He told me he couldn’t understand how I was sitting in front of him, conscious and breathing without assistance. Not only did the CT find a PE, but it was one of the largest clots this doctor had ever seen. It was located in the “saddle” portion between both lungs. The clot was so large that it covered the entire saddle area and extended over the openings to both lungs. Prognosis for this type of PE isn’t the greatest on its own, and the fact that mine was incredibly large made it all the more dangerous.I was immediately started on IV blood thinner and admitted to ICU. One EKOS procedure (surgery to inject anti-thrombolytic and start breaking up the clot) later, and three more days in ICU, I was sent home. I’ve been told that if I had waited one more day to go to the ER, there’s a good chance I wouldn’t be here. The doctors also told me that I must have had incredibly strong and healthy lungs before this, as my condition should have required me to be on oxygen to keep a healthy O2 saturation.The pandemic hit about six weeks later, just as I had returned to work. Since my lungs were still healing, my husband and I decided that it was best if I stay home in the beginning to avoid exposure. The pandemic was a blessing in disguise for me, as it forced me to take several months to recover rather than pushing myself too far too fast.I can no longer work out too heavily, as my heart rate gets a little higher than it used to when I exert myself too much. But otherwise, I have recovered 100% and am incredibly lucky and grateful to be alive.

Doctors know if you have cancer with certainty only after a pathologist examines a biopsy. Without this vital step, a doctor may choose to make an educated guess, or even may believe strongly that you have cancer, but that is not the same thing as knowing you have cancer.There are a lot of clues to indicate a patient might have cancer, and most doctors will progressively look for corroboration from multiple tests before ordering a biopsy, depending upon what the cancer concern actually is. Some cancers may be diagnosed based on certain markers (blood cancers, for example), where a biopsy might not be possible in the same way that it is with a solid tumor. Otherwise, doctors will look at things like =X-rays that will lead to CT scans which may lead to PET scans, all to rule cancer out or look for other possible causes for whatever abnormality was initially found. There are lots of things, including cysts and infections, that might cause a "mass" to appear in an image.Sometimes, as with a sarcoma growing on an arm, a surgeon will remove the entire mass immediately before having it biopsied because time is of the essence and it is only moderately invasive. With a mass in the lung, surgery is not going to be rushed because it is dangerous and can have lasting negative affects on quality of life for the patient, so the surgeon will want to be extremely sure it is necessary and know exactly what it is that is being removed, so a biopsy will have to be done first.In most instances, proper staging cannot be done without a biopsy and at least one body scan, but most likely two different ones. The CT scan gives a lot of detail and generally will show any unusual masses (along with loads and loads of temporary spots). A PET scan will show heavy biological activity in areas where either a tumor or infection is happening. This will help to identify whether spots in the CT scan are potential tumors and this will help to determine whether a cancer is metastatic. In many cases, then, a biopsy will be performed on the most distant area of activity from the primary tumor, so that staging can be completed and the cancer identified in one biopsy. Sometimes more than one biopsy may be necessary.Diagnosing a cancer is not a simple process. And when it is done properly it can go a long way toward making treatment better.

I heard she eloped with a birthday party clown, converted to Scientology, and moved to Switzerland.In all seriousness, I’ll give y’all an update, since I did kind of temporarily disappear from the face of the earth.This is really hard to admit publicly, but in early October I had a short relapse. Chalk it up to temporary insanity, but in a moment of weakness I got a text from an old dealer I should have blocked and decided I would probably be okay if I only bought 2 bags of heroin and snorted it. Just a little bit of fun to reward myself for doing so well — what could go wrong, right? Well, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Cut to several days later, when I’m sitting in my dealer’s dark, messy apartment high out of my mind on meth, heroin, and crack I shot up with a stranger’s used needles. Countless frantic calls and texts from friends, family, and the staff at my sober living finally convinced me to reluctantly stagger back to the facility, where I broke down crying and admitted what had happened. My counselor hugged me, called an Uber, and helped me check into a detox unit at the local psychiatric hospital. I got my first dose of my Subutex taper and crashed hard.2 days later, on October 15, I died.The last thing I remember is waking up late in the evening and shambling out to the dayroom to get some ice water. I felt sick as a dog, but chalked it up to withdrawal. I downed 2 glasses of water, got my vitals checked, took another Subutex and some Zofran, then went back to bed to sleep more. I woke up five days later in the ICU.This is apparently what happened according to the doctors and my family: at some point the detox nurse came into my room and found me without a pulse and not breathing. Assuming it was an overdose, she administered Narcan, began CPR, and called 911. They managed to get my heart beating in the ER but I still was in respiratory arrest even after several doses of Narcan (they still suspected opioid overdose), so they intubated me. They discontinued sedation but I still wasn’t breathing on my own when they turned the ventilator off to check, and I wasn’t responding to verbal commands or painful stimuli. They started worrying I was essentially brain-dead or had suffered a stroke, so a head CT and EEG were ordered. Before the results were back, I squeezed a doctor’s hand during rounds. They extubated me and I finally came to, asking the nurse what the hell happened. While I was in a coma it was discovered that I have a heart condition called left ventricular hypertrophy — the left ventricle of my heart is abnormally enlarged due to chronic, heavy stimulant abuse, and that abnormality is probably what caused the arrhythmia that led to my cardiac arrest. I spent another week or so in the hospital being treated for aspiration pneumonia, then was discharged.My sober living in Chicago kicked me out, so my grandparents had mercy on me and offered to let me move in with them back home in rural Wisconsin rather than putting me on the street. I’m so, so grateful and indebted to them.I’ve been clean again for 53 days now. I can’t lie, it’s a daily struggle. But overall I’m doing pretty well, I think. Soon I plan to register to go back to a technical school to become a paramedic (currently I’m only EMT-B certified). I just got a new (well, it’s used, but new to me) car. I ended an unhealthy relationship back in October and I’m going on a date (with a guy in the police academy, hilariously enough) in a few days. I’m looking for a part-time job so I can make a little of my own money. I’ve been hiking a lot. And, good news for you guys (or bad, I guess, if you don’t like me) — you can expect a lot more activity from me here on Quora.It’s comeback season.