February 05, 2007
12:13 pm
Thinner than water
This entry has some scintillating imagery.
The most annoying and disconcerting thing that I've dealt with since the heart attack is coumadin -- that insidious blood thinner that doubles as rat poison. It thins the blood to such an extent that the slightest impact causes ugly purple bruises, brushing one's teeth results in pink bristles, and dry air means nose bleeds.
I hate it with a passion. It is a constant reminder of fragility and makes me feel like I have to constantly worry about medications and milligrams and not eating vitamin K.
I've been coughing non-stop since I caught the flu, which just points out my new-found paranoia. Lately in the mornings, when I enjoy that first coughing jag like a heavy smoker, I've been coughing up a little more than just the usual phlegm you'd expect from the plague that's going around. Yes, the one thing you don't like to see when you cough: blood.
I didn't really panic, because after six months of coumadin therapy, I expect to see blood just pouring out of me at any time. But hey, I'm paying big bucks for Kaiser, so I made an appointment -- and even though the flu is sweeping through the Bay Area like seismic waves these days, the medical center was practically empty yesterday: the flu is no match for the Super Bowl, I suppose.
Blood tests and chest x-rays later, the consensus is that I don't have pneumonia, and I'm sucking down codeine-laced cough medicine. As for the coumadin, it turns out that my blood was too thin. Ordinary blood is "1"; my therapy goal is to be between 2 and 3 (higher numbers are thinner). But yesterday, my blood was 3.9. Coumadin is a tricky thing, it is hard to keep the dosages and levels exactly right, which is why patients on coumadin have regular blood tests -- I have one every two weeks on average to keep track of it all.
Until now.
Yes, thank goodness -- I talked to the clinic today, and asked one very important question: "I've been on this for six months. When does it end?" Turns out, after some consultation with my doctor, that today is the day when it ends.
And that's it. No more coumadin, no more ugly bruises when I accidentally bump my arm, no more nose bleeds.
Even better, now I'll only be taking eight pills per day!
This entry has some scintillating imagery.
The most annoying and disconcerting thing that I've dealt with since the heart attack is coumadin -- that insidious blood thinner that doubles as rat poison. It thins the blood to such an extent that the slightest impact causes ugly purple bruises, brushing one's teeth results in pink bristles, and dry air means nose bleeds.
I hate it with a passion. It is a constant reminder of fragility and makes me feel like I have to constantly worry about medications and milligrams and not eating vitamin K.
I've been coughing non-stop since I caught the flu, which just points out my new-found paranoia. Lately in the mornings, when I enjoy that first coughing jag like a heavy smoker, I've been coughing up a little more than just the usual phlegm you'd expect from the plague that's going around. Yes, the one thing you don't like to see when you cough: blood.
I didn't really panic, because after six months of coumadin therapy, I expect to see blood just pouring out of me at any time. But hey, I'm paying big bucks for Kaiser, so I made an appointment -- and even though the flu is sweeping through the Bay Area like seismic waves these days, the medical center was practically empty yesterday: the flu is no match for the Super Bowl, I suppose.
Blood tests and chest x-rays later, the consensus is that I don't have pneumonia, and I'm sucking down codeine-laced cough medicine. As for the coumadin, it turns out that my blood was too thin. Ordinary blood is "1"; my therapy goal is to be between 2 and 3 (higher numbers are thinner). But yesterday, my blood was 3.9. Coumadin is a tricky thing, it is hard to keep the dosages and levels exactly right, which is why patients on coumadin have regular blood tests -- I have one every two weeks on average to keep track of it all.
Until now.
Yes, thank goodness -- I talked to the clinic today, and asked one very important question: "I've been on this for six months. When does it end?" Turns out, after some consultation with my doctor, that today is the day when it ends.
And that's it. No more coumadin, no more ugly bruises when I accidentally bump my arm, no more nose bleeds.
Even better, now I'll only be taking eight pills per day!
What are all those other pills? When I had my stents implanted, they took me off blood thinners completely before I left the hospital (unless you count aspirin...). They had me on an anti-platelet thing (Ticlid was its name) for like 6-8 weeks to make sure nothing snagged on the stents. After that I've settled into pretty basic routine with only 4 pills a day... (down from 5... i told the Doc that I couldn't stand the niacin pills any more... they made me have hot flashes...
)
)
Posted by Ray Everett-Church on 02/06 at 08:06 PM
Let's see...
Morning: aspirin, atenolol, plavix, niacin, fish oil.
Evening: lovastatin, niacin, fish oil.
Man, nothing like a little niacin to make you empathize with menopausal women and their hot flashes...
Morning: aspirin, atenolol, plavix, niacin, fish oil.
Evening: lovastatin, niacin, fish oil.
Man, nothing like a little niacin to make you empathize with menopausal women and their hot flashes...
Posted by Gene Cowan on 02/06 at 08:12 PM
Ah ok... not too different... I do metoprolol (morning and evening) (equivalent to atenolol), aspirin and Vytorin (a combo of a statin and an HDL helper. I forgot about my Omega 3 Complex (fish oil, flaxseed oil, borage oil) (morning/evening). So that's actually 5 a day... I'm thinking about a different niacin thing at a lower dose that is supposed to be less likely to "flush" you... Doc wants to me to do a ACE inhibitor too, but he said it has to be carefully spaced away from the beta blocker otherwise it can make you feel faint... so I've passed on that for the moment... I'm dizzy enough as it is. 
Posted by Ray Everett-Church on 02/08 at 12:41 AM
Next entry: Cold Homecoming
Previous entry: In praise of simplicity
My Dr put me on Effexor explaining that every three days we'll raise the dose till we get to the required dose.
I called the next morning and made a same day emergency appointment, my first and only question to the Dr was. When can I get OFF this drug?