PATRICK OYULU: I stepped on a ‘landmine’

COMMENT | PATRICK OYULU |  In Uganda, when someone wakes up with swollen legs or mysterious pain, explanations abound. In Buganda, they’d say, “Yalinye Etalo,” meaning they stepped on something supernatural. Among the Alur, it’s “Enyonu Tho,” an ominous declaration that someone has “stepped on an illness.” But in urban Ugandan English, the phrase is more evocative -“He stepped on a landmine.”

Well, last week, I didn’t just step on one. I walked right into a whole field of them. And by some miracle, I lived to tell the tale.

For three weeks, I had nagging lower back pain, the kind you chalk up to a bad chair or an overenthusiastic day at the gym. But then, on Wednesday, my right leg started swelling. At first, I brushed it off -fatigue, maybe? Nerve compression? So I did what any rational person would do: lay on my back and propped my legs up against the wall like a makeshift yoga guru.

Except the swelling didn’t go away. Worse, I started feeling pain in my groin. Now, that’s the kind of pain you can’t unfeel. At 10:45 PM, my wife and I made the call -straight to Robert Wood Johnson Hospital Emergency Room in New Brunswick, NJ.

The moment the ER staff saw my leg, they didn’t waste time on small talk. “Suspected blood clot.” Boom. Just like that, I had stepped on a landmine.

Without wasting time, I was admitted and they ran an X-ray, ultrasound, and CTA scans of my chest, abdomen, and pelvis. You know how, in Kampala, traffic jams snake back from Nakawa to Jinja Road like an unholy mess? That was my blood flow -clogged with clots from my right leg all the way to my pelvis.

Some were lounging in my iliac veins, waiting for the perfect moment to break free and wreak havoc. One wrong move and I could have had a pulmonary embolism -a clot shooting up to my lungs. The kind of thing that turns a regular day into an obituary.

And you know what people would have said?
“Eh! But he was fine just yesterday!”
“I think he was bewitched.”
“Did he owe someone money in Kawempe Mbogo zone?”

Sigh.

There was no time to play games though. The vascular team at RWJBarnabas Health decided: Thrombectomy. A delicate, urgent procedure where they go in and physically remove the clots -like carefully defusing live landmines.

On Thursday evening, I signed the consent form. It felt like signing a death warrant. By Friday morning, I posted a cryptic tweet -just in case it was my last. It read: “Delicate! But it’s got to be done. God is in control. #LetsDoThis.” No one gave it much thought.

Then, into the operating room I went. Two hours later, I woke up to the news: success. The clots -8 to 10 of them -had been removed. I even saw them. Thick, sinister, silent killers. Just chilling there, waiting for an opportunity to take me out.

Had they dislodged and reached my lungs? Game over. Brain? Lights out. But by some divine orchestration, we caught them in time.

If there’s anything this near-death encounter has taught me, it’s that landmines don’t announce themselves. One day, you’re fine. The next, you’re in the ER fighting for your life.

The CDC estimates that 100,000 people die from blood clots every year in the U.S.

The risk factors? Prolonged immobility, dehydration, smoking, obesity, surgery, genetics -you name it. Some of them are in our control. Others aren’t.

But here’s what is in our control:
▪︎ Move more. If you sit for long hours, get up and stretch.
▪︎ Stay hydrated -your blood is like traffic, and dehydration is like closing lanes.
▪︎ Watch for signs: swelling, unexplained pain, shortness of breath.
▪︎ Get checked if something feels off.

I got lucky. Many don’t.

So, my friends, take this as a Public Health PSA with a side of wit. Check your body. Listen to the whispers before they turn into sirens. Because in life, the worst landmines are the ones you never see coming.

I was discharged on Saturday evening. A special thank you to RWJBarnabas Health Hospital New Brunswick, NJ Doctors and staff for saving my life. God Bless You!

*****

ADAPTED FROM TWITTER | The writter is a Public Health Specialist  |  @OyuluPatrick CLICK FOR LINK

RWJBarnabas Health is New Jersey’s largest integrated health care delivery system, providing treatment and services to more than three million patients each year