It’s been almost six months since I wrote to you all about my blood clot experience, and, let me tell you, has it been rough. I’ve gone through a lot of snags that I didn’t expect, but then again I didn’t expect to get a clot either.

I’ve spent the first half of 2009 looking like a heroin addict from all the blood tests I’ve gotten and a pill-poppin’ animal (thanks, Lil Wayne) from all the medications I’m taking. I can’t even count how many times I’ve told the story of what happened and answered countless questions. I particularly love the, “Aren’t you young?” question.

Yes, I’m young.
Does it mean I’m invincible? No.

The first few months were very difficult for me because I was still adjusting to the medication and trying to process the fact that I almost died. Coumadin, or Warfarin, is a blood thinner. I quickly found out that being on blood thinners makes you cold. Almost all the time. So walking to class was hard because I was freezing my little butt off. And don’t even try me on going to parties at night. Since my clot was bigger, it took a long time for it to disappear, which made it hard for me to breathe a lot of the time. Long walks across campus got me winded, and I couldn’t exercise. Pretty much, my whole love for being fit and athletic went out the window.

Along with my lack of exercise, my love for healthy foods like salad, broccoli, asparagus, basically anything green (yeah, kiwi too), was gone. Since foods that are green are rich in vitamin K, a blood thickening agent, I couldn’t eat them unless I did it consistently. I decided it was better not to eat them at all because my blood level was so hard to regulate in the first place.

While on Coumadin, they test your INR (international normalized ratio), which is a fancy way of telling how thick or thin your blood is. The margin is very small, and because I’m so young it made it much harder to get my blood to fall in the range and stay there. While the “average” person with a blood clot takes a few weeks to regulate, it took me about 4 months. I was getting blood tests two or three times a WEEK instead of once a month.

I’ve encountered several issues during this whole ordeal. I can’t be on the Pill ever again, which means I have to be extra careful (and, thankfully, my boyfriend has been great about that).  I’m currently debating my other birth control options. The Depo-Provera shot doesn’t have estrogen in it, but it still carries a slight risk for blood clots. I’m too young for an IUD, so I’m pretty much stuck with the shot or using a diaphragm or condoms.

Another issue is that I get sick… a lot. I’m prone to frequent bladder infections, colds and flu-type illnesses, and I tend to get migraines and headaches frequently.  Unfortunately, because meds affect the blood thinners, I can’t take anything. Think about trying to endure the flu without meds.  Welcome to my clotted life.

In thirteen days I will be of Coumadin and I am excited to celebrate with a salad and margaritas. Finally, I’ll be able to get back to some sort of normal life with vegetables and alcohol!  Not to mention I’ll have the tolerance of a five year old, and that is awesome.  I’m looking forward to not getting goosebumps when it’s 60 degrees outside and being able to walk around without feelings like I ran up ten flights of stairs.  I can’t wait to run into stuff and not immediately bruise, and for my veins to stop looking like I’ve been shooting up in some back alley on campus.

I can joke about the situation now having lived it, but I seriously want every single reader to know how serious a situation this is.  It can happen to anyone on birth control, especially you girls who like to light up. Whether you smoke like a chimney or you “socially” smoke (“I’m so drunk I need a cigarette”), it increases your risk for a clot.  I was lucky; had I not gone to the hospital or if I had been an hour late, I’d be dead.

Birth control has serious side effects like blood clots, strokes, and heart attacks.  Take the risks seriously and pay attention to your body!

Well, now you can get them WITHOUT MASCARA. Yeah, you heard right.

The FDA has recently approved a new drug called Latisse, brought to you by the same pharmeceutical company that gave us Botox: Allergen Inc. They promise “longer, fuller, and darker lashes” with daily use on the upper eyelids for 16 weeks.

Who wouldn’t want that?

But beware of the caveat manufacturers don’t want you to know about. Possible side effects include a gradual darkening of the iris and a darkening of any portion of the surrounding area where the drug touches your skin. Not to mention the possiblility of looking like Chewbacca if it gets anywhere else on your body, since Latisse is merely a hair-follicle stimulant.

Oh, and if you still want to try it? It’ll make a dent of $120 for a 30-day supply. The effects aren’t permanent either, so your lashes will return back to their genetically-determined length after a few months of discontinued usage.

So, let’s get this straight: black irises and the potential for black and hairy eyelids?

I think I’ll just stick with my $20 mascara for now. I want long lashes just as much as the next girl (or as much as those beauty companies tell me I need them), but I just need to know there’s absolutely no chance of me looking like the girl in the picture before I take my chances with Latisse.

But for the more daring (and possibly wealthier), I want to know: will you try it?

As college students, we pretty much think of ourselves as invincible, I know I certainly have. Until recently that is. I’ve been in car accidents, including one where my car hydroplaned off a cliff. I’ve drank myself to the point where I should have gone to the hospital. I’ve had my life threatened. But those things never quite hit me to the point where I realized I could have died.

On January 2nd, I woke up at 4:30 in the morning with a searing pain in my left lung and back. It felt like two cinderblocks were pushing on either side of me and every breath felt like a knife going through my lung. I have a low pain tolerance, but this was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I managed to walk to my parents’ room to wake them up as I was gasping for air. My mom helped me back into my room while my dad furiously researched the new medication my dermatologist put me on, convinced it was a side effect. I eventually fell back asleep, but when I woke up again I was greeted by pain that was even worse than before. My mom came in to check on me, and I told her I needed to go to the hospital.

In the emergency room, one of the doctors listened to my symptoms and said “I think you may have a blood clot in your lung.” What? A blood clot? In an 18-year old? I was so confused and scared; I immediately started bawling. They quickly took blood out of my left arm while putting an IV in the other, and I woke up in the middle of a CT-scan. They did ultrasounds on my legs to make sure there were no clots because that’s where most clots originate. About an hour later, another doctor came in and told me they did find a clot in my lung.

I was terrified.

A nurse came in to give me a shot in my stomach that would start to seal the clot to the wall of my vein so it couldn’t break apart or move to my heart. I called my boyfriend and my best friend not really knowing what to say, partly because I was on a massive amount of painkillers and partly because I thought I was going to die.

The doctors believe that my birth control caused the clot, but they are still running tests. I was shocked. I knew blood clots were a side effect of the pill, but they are so rare, especially in women under 30. I received a shot to the stomach twice a day along with various painkillers from morphine to percocet. I was also told I had to be on a medication called Coumadin, a blood thinner, for 6 months. This medication comes with a lot of rules and requires weekly blood tests to determine if my blood is too thin or not thin enough. Depending on that level, I have to adjust the dosage of Coumadin I take. I’ve been on it for a week and the dosage has changed three times. I can’t eat foods high in vitamin K like salad or broccoli, I can’t drink more than 2oz of alcohol.

I left the hospital on January 6 and was allowed to go back to school on the 8th. I got tired and short of breath, accompanied with a much less severe but still noticeable pain in my lung which would not go away for about 6 to 8 weeks according to the doctors. But I’m alive. If I didn’t go to the hospital, I would be dead right now. The clot would have made its way to my heart or my brain, and I would have died. As much as the situation bothers me, and I keep asking why this happened to me, I am so grateful that I’m still here. Things like this don’t happen to people my age, and if it does, it’s usually too late. You hear about the funeral, not the recovery.

I’m glad I can sit at my computer and share this story with you all because I don’t want any of you to go through what I did. I want you to be aware of what can happen, to recognize the symptoms, and realize that birth control and other medicines do have side effects.

If you feel a pain like that, don’t assume it’s something minor because it’s probably not. Your body tells you things, so listen to it.

As if women didn’t have to bear enough of the birth control burden: paying for The Pill every month and remembering to take it every day (not to mention all those lovely hormonal side-effects). Now we have the option of purchasing yet another contraceptive and dealing with the discomforts of using it.

Super!

Because there are no other options, like, I don’t know, something men can use? Oh, right – like a condom. But those are annoying and expensive and they make sex feel weird (according to men). Why should guys have to suffer when a woman can just do it all? She’s the one who is gonna get pregnant, anyway; she should be the one taking care of all that business.

And this new female condom (cleverly called FC2: Female Condom 2) seems just so easy to use!

The product is a long, lubricated sheath, anchored at either end by a flexible ring. Upon insertion, the smaller ring surrounding the closed end of the sheath is positioned high in the vagina while the larger ring extends outside the canal and covers the labia.

I can imagine just how romantic it will be when everything has to stop so you can shove a giant Ziploc bag up there. That is if the sight of one of these things isn’t enough to kill the mood entirely. The only plus side to this condom is the fact that you eliminate user error on the part of men. You never can trust them to get those things on right (or at all…you saw Knocked Up!).

But that isn’t enough for me. I am sick of everyone putting the birth control responsibility on the woman. It takes two to tango, so it should take 2 to do so safely. If women are taking care of the pills, then men should be responsible for the rest.

It’s only fair.

Botox is the second most popular prescription drug, after Viagara, and women have become addicted to the procedure. Lisa Rinna, former Melrose Place star, told In Touch that after seeing pictures of herself she realized she has gone “too far” with her surgical procedures. Ya think? She looks like a mannequin who can’t smile or blink. Freak! We all know the other celebs who are rumored to have the procedure done frequently, like Cher, Sly Stallone, Courtney Cox, Joan Rivers, Nicole Kidman, and the list goes on and on and on.

Caution: There are dangers out there! Botox isn’t something that should be debated over mildly. Here a few facts to help you in your debate to be stuck with the needle or not.

• In a recent study, an active Botox toxin was injected into rats and after 72 hours the toxin was found in the rats’ brain. This is scary, especially since the toxin broke down proteins and caused damage in the brain!
• The same toxin injected in the rats, botulinum toxin, has been found in humans who receive Botox injections and it spread to other parts of the body which has resulted in paralysis of respiratory muscles and difficulty swallowing.
• Please know that the side effects have been reported as early as one day and as late as several weeks after treatment.
• There were 16 deaths prior to January 2008. Enough said.
• There are also minor side effects, like dizziness, rashes, bruising, tiredness, headache, stiffness, etc.
• Do not rush into any decisions. Have a consultation with the dermatologist and then go home and think about the procedure. Do your research!

We talk a lot about birth control around here (a natural progression from our daily musings about sex). We think its ability to stop babies is pretty badass, but many of us aren’t sure if that is worth all the crappy side effects: headaches, bloat, moodiness, debilitating cramps….We seriously thought we had it pretty bad until we found out that all of our suffering was nothing compared to those unlucky ladies who opted for the birth control patch.

While it was marketed as every woman’s dream birth control option (“Lower estrogen! Lasts all month! No need to remember those pesky daily pills!”), it has recently become every woman’s worst nightmare.

“The patch actually delivered much higher doses of estrogen than the pill; Johnson & Johnson failed to reveal this to the public for six years. At least fifty deaths have been attributed to the patch because of this, with thousands more women reporting alarming symptoms.”

The people behind the patch have been dealing with major lawsuits from patch users who experienced blood clots, strokes and heart attacks!

We love our ability to enjoy sex without the worry of havin’ a baby (and getting those awful stretch marks), but really? Stroke? Death? Does Johnson & Johnson really think women are willing to risk their lives for a little no-strings-attached booty?

If you are on the patch, get off of it NOW. There are plenty of other options for you: the pill, the Nuva Ring, an IUD, condoms, or, the tastiest option, Diet Coke? Just tear that thing off and call your doc. Fo realz.

But what choice do we have, really? Condoms aren’t perfect, abstinence isn’t gonna happen, and I can barely take care of myself, let alone bring a child into my world.

Oh, and guys are always expecting it now! Seriously; I once told my ex that I wasn’t taking the pill and he looked at me like I had just told him I pooped in his shoe. How is that fair?

If only there were a birth control pill for guys. Wouldn’t that be amazing? Let them deal with all the crap we’ve been taking care of for years. Do you think guys would take it? Do you even think they know how good they have it?

Angry (it’s not my fault; my hormones go nuts on this damn pill!) I asked a boy those very questions. His answers surprised me (and made me cry…again, the hormones).

Sunday night at 3 a.m. again. The lines on the page have long since run together. I have written the same sentence three times. My roommate is blaring the television set that is constantly tuned to E!. I have seen all of the True Hollywood stories. Twice.

“Bailey*, can I have an Adderall?”

“Sure. You know where to find them.”

I rummaged around in the clutter of her desk drawer, and my fingertips having connected with the plastic of a prescription bottle, I tipped a tiny capsule into my palm.

Ah, yes, here was my chemical savior. Focus city, here I come.

This amphetamine derivative was going to help me get through my stack of reading and get that assignment down on paper.

I lay back down on my bed and set my alarm for 4 a.m. With Adderall in my system I would be able to get back up in just an hour and get back to work. And I did.

I sailed through those chapters and set the skeleton of my paper down in print. Doing real writing or reading that I actually needed to understand wasn’t really a good idea when I was on Adderall. Somehow it seemed to suppress my ability for thinking deep thoughts.

Bailey had a prescription, which she didn’t really need, clinically. What she really had was a very understanding family doctor who, with a knowing wink, scribbled away on his tiny pad when she came in with the complaint, “I can’t concentrate.”

Because the pills weren’t being used on a daily basis, there were often some spare ones lying around that got given away or sold to “friends in need”.

I was usually one of those friends.

I had never heard of Adderall, Concerta, or any of the other prescription drugs used in the treatment of ADD before college. When I got to school and found out what the effects were I wanted to know where I could sign up.

Studying was never my forte. I had always managed to ace my tests and whip out my papers based on my class attendance and spectacular ability to bullsh*t. When I got to college, I discovered that however wonderful my skills may be, it is nigh-on impossible to BS a 15-page paper, even if it is philosophy. I was floundering, and here was my quick-fix. Because who wants to do things the hard way?

So Adderall became my study buddy and I owe many successful all-nighters to those tiny capsules. What’s more, with all of this extra energy and focus, I stopped munching on Cheetos and Doritos while studying and I lost a pants size (which I have since gained back).

Now, addictive tendencies run in my family, so I had to be careful. Adderall has the same chemical components as speed (so watch out if you’re going to be getting drug tested), and its dispensing is tightly regulated. Only one month’s supply at a time may be prescribed and a visit to the doctor is required in order to renew the prescription. Meaning: there can be habit-forming side effects and this is something to be monitored.

But, I never once had the least shadow of a negative side effect. No crashes, no moodiness, no nothing. Just complete focus and an increase to my G.P.A. Obviously, I would do it again if it were available to me. I’ve even considered going to the psychiatrist myself and getting a prescription.

It’s not necessary, though; if you know the right people (and I do), you can usually just score on campus.

In fact, with all the horrible side effects like the migraines and weight gain I feel like the only reason the pill is even working is because it is preventing me from going out to find someone to have sex with. And I am not so sure that is how it is supposed to work.

I have attempted to stick it out for the past six months, but, considering I have been sans sex for quite some time, I am about ready to throw in the towel. My doctor – always the optimist – didn’t like that idea.

“Lauren, I know you joke about being a crazy cat woman, but you will have sex again someday and you might regret your decision to stop taking birth control.”

She had a point. Maybe one day I might again have the urge to do something besides catch up on my TiVo on a Friday night. You know; like go out and meet a man. And have sex. She recommended a different form of birth control that minimized the side effects that have been haunting me for months.

Unfortunately, this one presents a whole new slew of problems.

It is called the Nuva Ring and the name alone already grosses me out. Basically, this little guy is a plastic ring that is inserted into the va-jay-jay and left there for three weeks. While hanging out inside of your body, the ring dispenses a steady flow of hormones that prevent pregnancy. After three weeks, you take it out and get your period. Then you stick another one in.

Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but the idea of sticking the equivalent to the plastic thing that comes off when you open a gallon of milk inside of me and then leaving it there for three weeks is far from comforting. I don’t even know how to comprehend this. I have so many questions:

Where exactly does this thing end up?

Can my potential partner feel it during sex?

How do I know if it is working?

Most importantly, how the hell am I supposed to get that thing out!?

Also, since the heat of the body activates the ring to work, it must be stored in a cool place until it is time to use it. “Cool place” being the refrigerator. Because nothing says normal like a fridge stocked with beer, butter, bread and birth control.

I really don’t know what to do. I know I do not want migraines. I know I do not want to be fat. And I am absolutely positive that I do not want to be a mom. But I also know that I don’t want to stick my hand into my cervix every three weeks to fish out a pony tail holder.

Maybe my current state of celibacy is the way to go. I’ll see you at the Cat Emporium.

Have you ever tried an alternative form of birth control?