On Heparin

Considering that two of my closest friends from Swarthmore are pursuing MDs—Ben and Jayne (to brag on her behalf, Jayne is actually pursuing a MD/PhD)—and that I have personally begun a career consulting in health-related fields, one would think that I would have a profound respect and appreciation for medical doctors. Though I’d like to claim to be a compliant patient (both jobs I’ve held LOVE compliant patients), I seem to have inherited my family’s general disregard for medical expertise and preference for denial. This proclivity to ignore medical advice, coupled with a genetic propensity for blood clots and a fourteen hour flight (twelve of which I spent asleep), caused what was diagnosed at Kampala Hospital as an early stage blood clot.

Before I go any further, I’m FINE. No need to worry at all. I’m describing the back-story only to describe what came next: a prescription for two weeks worth of daily heparin injections! Now, for many, this would be a non-issue. But, for someone who as a child needed to be restrained by multiple nurses for any procedure that involved skin puncture, still gets visibly pale while blood is being drawn, and genuinely appreciates her coworker’s offer to hold her hand during dreaded annual corporate flu shot day (and takes him up on it two years running), this was not the scrip for which I was hoping. Unfortunately, the only orally administered anticoagulant alternative was Coumadin (warfarin), which is extremely difficult to dose, as it requires constant monitoring of the international normalized ratio (INR). In an attempt to avoid weekly blood tests and ingesting a drug too little of which is useless and too much of which is used as rat poison (literally) and can be fatal to humans as well, I opted for the heparin.

My colleagues could not have been nicer or more helpful throughout the entire ordeal. They waited with me at the hospital, sought appropriate medical advice, helped me weigh treatment options, and, two of my four coworkers have now administered my heparin shots. Considering that administering daily subcutaneous injections was unlikely part of either's job description, both Matt and Ian have really gone above and beyond. Additionally, both are better at giving these shots than the nurses at International Hospital of Kampala, which bodes excellently for Ian’s future as a physician!

On the plus side, I’ve learned a valuable lesson: listen to doctors and be a compliant patient, even if the condition is asymptomatic! Additionally, I’m hopeful that this experience will put me one step closer to overcoming my fear of needles, though that certainly still remains to be seen.