I’ll start from the beginning. Nine months ago I had routine bloodwork for a routine physical, and life went on. I assumed no news, after a blood test, was good news. If there was a problem the doctor, the nurse, someone would have called. I was wrong. Eight weeks ago I started to notice patches of bruising and petechiae on my arms and legs, I was tired, progressively weak, and walking up the subways stairs was becoming a daily challenge.  Those around me said I was losing color, “you look pale” or “you look sort of waxy” had replaced “hello” and “nice to see you.”

But I was also 22 years-old, and new to the real world. For the first time in my life I was up at 5a.m. and working long hours, so I justified my symptoms. Brusing was from the gym, tired was my body adjusting to a new way of life, weakness was lack of sleep, lack of breakfast, lack of manliness. If there were anything dreadfully wrong my October 2008 blood test would have picked it up.

In late June my parents, as parents often do, interceded.  Enough was enough I was going to consult a doctor.  Begrudgingly I did.  On June 29, 2009, my 23rd birthday, the doctor called. She told me to leave work, to go to the emergency room. My blood work was critical. 

The rest of the story will be explained in bits and pieces along the way as it evolves, but the take home message is this—BE YOUR OWN ADVOCATE. Never assume, call and check on your blood work, your MRI, your body scan. Like every other system, healthcare is run by humans—humans who have bad days, get tired, get stressed and yes, make mistakes. Be your own safety net, no news is no news, and nothing else.

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