Birth Control

I've never been one to have health problems. In fact, I was always the healthy one in my family. No allergies, no history of significant illness; I'd never even been to a hospital before. That's why when I suffered a stroke on February 15, 2004 it both surprised and devastated me and my family. A freshman at college, I considered my life perfect. I spent every day, all day, with new friends who loved having just as much fun as I did. We began the pledging process for a sorority that I couldn't wait to join and we were constantly involved in bonding activities that allowed us to entertain our freshman fantasies of frat parties, no curfews and no-holds-barred parties. When I woke up from a nap on February 15, that all changed. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and I was napping in my dorm room while my roommate was studying on her bed. I woke up and got out of bed to go use the communal restroom down the hall from our room. However, after a few steps I couldn't move any further. I felt as if a lightning bolt had directly struck my body. In my own confusion, I tried to tell my roommate that I couldn't feel my left arm. The words, though, came out repeating and garbled beyond comprehension. Although my arm was the most noticible numbed part of my body, I soon realized that I couldn't feel the entire left side of my body. I was still repeating that I couldn't feel my arm; it was as if someone else were saying the "words"; I had no control over them. Of course this episode felt like it went on for minutes, but in reality it was only about 30 seconds until I got my speech and feeling back. However, a pressure and a tingling in my left arm remained radiating from my shoulder to my fingertips. I sat on my bed and knew right away that something was wrong. My roommate came over and admitted that the left side of my face was sagging when I was trying to tell her about my arm. Immediately, I called my parents and told them what had happened. My dad's response was, "You probably slept on your arm wrong." After all, why would a completely healthy girl all of a sudden have something so seriously wrong with her? I knew he was wrong, so I went on the computer and googled my symptoms. The word "stroke" stared back at me from my screen. Luckily, at the same time, my rooommate was on the phone with her father - a doctor - explaining what just happened. He gave me the same conclusion my computer did - get to a hospital as soon as possible. Upon admittance, I was told that my symptoms were those of a stroke. My parents drove the two-and-a-half hours to pick me up and take me home. After a barrage of tests, it was concluded that I had a patent foramen ovale (PFO), a hole in my heart. Approximately 30% of the population is born with PFOs, which almost always go undetected unless a health problem arises from them. In my case, they determined that a blood clot had gone through the hole straight to my brain instead of getting routed through my body to dissolve, causing the stroke. Even with the PFO, I shouldn't have been getting bloodclots like that one. It was recommended that I go off my birth control, Ortho Evera, because of its risk of increased clot formation. Ortho Evera is birth control that you apply to your skin via a patch that you change weekly. It was convenient and it worked in regulating my body, something that previous birth controls had failed to do. However, it had been debated that the amount of estrogen in each patch varied much more than it did in pill form. This has caused a surge of strokes and deaths in the women who used the patch. I was more than lucky to come away from the episode without any lasting effects. Every year hundreds of thousands of people suffer strokes, many of whom die, but they're not supposed to be 21-years-old. It was a remarkable that I was not one of those statistics. However, the hole had to be closed to prevent another complication. On March 2, 2004 I underwent surgery to close the hole. I had a procedure done laparoscopically where they were able to use a catheter inserted into an artery in my thigh and snake it up to my heart to implant a device that would hold the hole closed. The surgery was successful and I was told that besides for no heavy lifting for three months, I would have no lifestyle restrictions. Even without lifestyle restrictions, the ordeal replays itself in my mind every day. My life and my family's lives stopped. I had to leave school and my new friends. I missed the end of the pledging process and many exams. Even though I could get some assignments at home, my grades suffered with my absence and my school refused to recognize the issue. My parents existed in a constant state of anxiety, perpetually wondering whether or not I would be ok. They chose to take legal action against Ortho Evera (owned by Johnson & Johnson) and participate in a class action lawsuit with families of other women who have suffered strokes and have died at the hands of the Patch. Although the case has yet to be settled, the verdict won't prevent me from fretting over every unexpected sensation in my body, nor will it ever bring back the time that passed while my life stopped.
Sincerely,
Brook Bergen