I went to my primary care doc on Thursday because I've had a persistent pain in my side. She took a blood draw to check for clots. I got a call from her shortly thereafter telling me to get to the emergency room for a CT scan because my D-Dimer levels were elevated. So I went in, spent six hours there, got the CT scan and sure enough I have several blood clots in my lungs and legs. They came close to admitting me but determined that I am not high risk so I could go home with a prescription for a blood thinner.


My family immediately rallied around me, with calls of support and concern. The thing is, I don't really care that much about this latest health crisis. I have been depressed for a long time. If this kills me, so be it. Nobody rallies around me because of my depression, only a physical illness brings out that kind of support. I stick around because of my children, whom I love dearly and would not want to hurt. But the urge to die sometimes becomes almost overwhelming. I am on a new cocktail of meds, so maybe that will help, but I doubt it. Only major changes in my life, like getting a new job at age 65, would help. That seems unlikely to happen. So I continue to gut it out day by day.