The pill gave me clots in my lungs: please read my story

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I’ve always considered myself pretty fit. Bear with me while I toot my own horn.
At 31 years old I’ve run multiple half marathons, three full marathons, woken up at the crack of dawn to fit my long runs in during the week, and attended the odd Pilates class, strength session, or run club appearance. I don’t drink and never have, and I’ve never touched a cigarette, recreational drug, or vape. Apart from my need for a daily dose of Nutella and a hot choccie before bed, I don’t think it’s arrogant to consider myself healthy.
So when I was diagnosed with pulmonary emboli I think you’ll understand why I was shocked. In a nutshell, they found a bunch of clots blocking blood flow to my lungs caused by the contraceptive pill.
I had been prescribed the Yasmin pill for over six years.
It all started when I noticed my morning runs were becoming much slower. I don’t normally time my runs – I find it takes the joy out of them unless I’m training for a specific event. But I would get back to my apartment later, and even when walking my dog Valentino (a chihuahua with teeny tiny short legs) I found myself short of breath.
On the weekends I was spending more time at home recuperating from the week that was, curled up in the fetal position on the couch watching re-runs of Gossip Girl and napping for hours at a time and still needing to be in bed by 9 pm. My patient partner would suggest activities, and more often than not I would say I was too tired. I can recall chats with my sisters over the phone, saying how frustrated I was with my body. I was constantly tired and exhausted. I felt innately lazy, with my constant need for sleep and rest. Even at work, I’d notice I’d slump hard at around 2 pm each afternoon, ducking into the bathroom to run cold water over my wrists and splash my neck and face in an attempt to wake myself up.
Looking back on it now it all makes a lot of sense. Here I was thinking I had ‘become lazy’ and had lost my sometimes obsessive work ethic (a toxic trait handed down from my workaholic mother… hello Carole). Meanwhile, the real reason I was getting tired so quickly was because my body wasn’t getting the oxygen it needed. The tiny branches at the edges of my lungs were slowly starting to die, as the clots formed by the hormones in the pill pushed their way into the deepest darkest corners of my chest beneath my ribs.
I took myself to the hospital on a Tuesday after work. I woke up that morning feeling like I’d done a mammoth HIIT workout, or a hardcore gym session. The muscles across my chest, back, and shoulders were stiff and sore – very weird considering all I’d done the weekend previous was walk around the Little Burley Markets carrying my chihuahua.
There was also a huge part of me that thought I might be overthinking it. I’ve had asthma since I was a kid, and there was a chance the cold Canberra winds were working their dark magic on my lungs.
Was I being dramatic? Maybe I was overreacting.

Sammy and her Mum Carole after the Canberra Marathon.
Once I arrived at Emergency, the nurses admitted me straight away and organised a bunch of tests. From the get-go, a couple of the nurses had their suspicions of what might be the cause of my pain. They explained they’d had a number of women in their late 20s to mid-30s who’d been on the same pill displaying similar symptoms: shortness of breath, trouble breathing, tiredness, and constant pain across their chest.
A CT scan confirmed I had multiple clots in my lungs, which had caused some of the smallest branches (bronchioles) in my lungs to die after being deprived of blood supply.
I can remember the doctor in Emergency asking me if I had any questions following the diagnosis. I didn’t. I was in shock. I’d heard of cases in the news where young women had clots in their lungs from the pill, but I never thought it’d be me. As I said, I’d always been pretty healthy. It felt like all these years of ‘trying to be healthy’ had been pointless.
Once the initial shock of the diagnosis passed I had hundreds of questions. Would I be able to travel overseas, without fear of a blood clot travelling to a major artery as I sat on a plane? I was told I couldn’t exercise for the next few months, as a raised heart rate would cause more pain and push the clots further into the tightest corners of my lungs. My morning routine of running, for my mental and physical well-being, wasn’t an option. Would I ever be able to run again? Would the clots affect my chances of having a baby, and fulfilling my lifelong dream of starting a family?

Sammy with Aussie marathon runner Rob de Castella and her ‘running buddy’ Nicola.
I was put on the pill when I was 18 years old to manage bouts of intense anxiety before and during my period. At 24 years old I was introduced to the Yasmin pill, to help manage my acne. I’d just gone back to uni and the stress of managing study and working full time took its toll on my pimple-prone skin. What I wasn’t told was – according to a doctor at the Emergency Department at Canberra Hospital – that the Yasmin pill should only be taken for a maximum of two years, or else the risk of getting clots significantly increases.
Over the last 10 years, I have been to multiple GPs who have been happy to renew my prescription for the pill, without checking how long I’d been on it. I say this knowing I am fully responsible for my own health and well-being, and should’ve paid more attention to the fine print in the pill box from the chemist which states that all combined oral contraceptive pills, including Yasmin, will increase the risk of having a blood clot. I did, however, think a doctor prescribing the medicine might have mentioned the possibility of switching pills after several years to minimise the risk of clots blocking the branches in my lungs.
I’m writing this piece in the hope that someone who’s also taking the Yasmin pill might read it. Check with your doctor if you should be switching pills, or going off it entirely. Since telling people about my diagnosis there have been so many similar stories of young women being put on the Yasmin pill who have also developed clots.
On a much lighter note, I have been using the diagnosis to my advantage. When I don’t want to do the housework, or there’s a particular social event my partner is keen to go to but I’m not, I’ll simply say I’m feeling a bit ‘clotty’. My supportive work family has even started the nickname Clotty Hotty. I was flattered.
So here’s hoping this piece is seen by other hotties on the pill, prompting them to check in with their doctor and ask all the questions before taking home another prescription.