Author: Sasha

Three months ago my CT scan showed nothing. No clot. Everything looked stable. I was already taking Eliquis 2.5 mg twice a day, staying active, riding my bike, doing everything I thought I was supposed to do. Then another scan changed the story.

The report said: “New non-occlusive thrombus in the main portal vein occupying about 50% of the vessel.”

In plain English — a blood clot formed in the main vein that carries blood from the intestines into the liver. Half the vein is blocked. The other half is still open.

At first it made no sense. How do you develop a clot while you’re already on blood thinners?

The answer is something I’ve learned the hard way: cirrhosis changes how blood flows through the liver.

Because the liver is scarred, blood meets resistance trying to get through it. That pressure backs up into the portal vein system. The spleen enlarges, platelets drop, and blood moves slower than it should. Slow blood flow is one of the main ingredients for clot formation.

So even if you’re doing things right — taking medication, exercising, eating better — the physics of circulation inside the liver can still allow a clot to form.

That’s exactly what happened to me.

The good news is the vein is not completely blocked. Blood is still flowing through about half of it. That matters, because as long as blood is moving, there’s a real chance for the body and treatment to stabilize the clot and possibly reopen the vein over time.

So what now?

Now the focus shifts from “Why did this happen?” to “How do we fight it?”

My plan is simple and practical:

• Proper anticoagulation – adjusting medication so the clot doesn’t grow
• Consistency – no missed doses
• Movement – staying active, cycling, keeping circulation moving
• Hydration and nutrition – reducing processed sugar and supporting liver health
• Monitoring – follow-up imaging to track the clot

I’m not pretending this is nothing. Portal vein thrombosis is serious. But it’s also something that many people with liver disease face and manage.

The way I see it, this is just another round in a longer fight.

My liver has already forced me to rethink how I live — how I eat, how I train, how I take care of my body. This clot is just another reminder that the work isn’t optional.

It’s daily.

And the goal is the same as always: stay moving, stay disciplined, and keep the system working as well as it possibly can.

March 3 2026 Blood Test Update

After my blood draw on March 3, I received some encouraging news. My lab results confirmed that I am no longer iron deficient.

This moment means a lot to me because it represents the end of a long and difficult chapter.

Current Lab Results

Ferritin: 123 ng/mL
Iron: 63 mcg/dL

To understand how meaningful this improvement is, my lowest Ferritin level was recorded on May 17, 2025, when it dropped to only 18 ng/mL.

This battle with iron deficiency really started around September 11, 2024. Since then, it has taken patience, discipline, and persistence to slowly bring my levels back to a healthy range.

Appreciation for My Medical Team

I want to give sincere thanks to Dr. Molly Daughety and her team who helped guide me through this challenge.

Their support, medical expertise, and attention played an important role in helping me reach this milestone.

The Journey Is Not Over

Even though overcoming iron deficiency is a major step forward, the work is far from over.

Right now, I am focusing on another serious issue that has been affecting my life for a very long time—my stomach problems.

For years I have been dealing with symptoms such as:

• Bloating
• Excessive gas
• Urgency to use the bathroom
• Digestive discomfort

These problems have been affecting my daily life for over 20 years.

Using AI as a Research Tool

To better understand what is happening, I have been carefully analyzing many different factors:

• My diet
• My fitness routine
• My medications
• My nervous system responses
• Long-term patterns in my health

I am also using Artificial Intelligence as a tool to help organize information and test possible explanations.

So far, the results are very promising, but I approach this carefully.

AI is a powerful tool, but it is not perfect. It requires discipline, critical thinking, and responsible use.

Discovering a Long-Ignored Trigger

While testing different triggers, I began noticing patterns connected to something that actually started more than 20 years ago.

At the time, I never took it seriously.

Looking back now, that may have been a mistake because this issue has quietly affected my life for decades.

The encouraging news is that my stomach is now showing very strong signs of recovery while I continue testing what I believe is the main trigger.

Fighting on Multiple Fronts

All of this work is happening while I am also battling liver cirrhosis.

That alone requires constant attention, discipline, and careful lifestyle choices.

But progress like this reminds me that every small victory matters.

My Mindset

One thing about me has always been true.

I am a disciplined and motivated individual.

I have always been like that.

I also admit that I am a bit of a perfectionist. If something in my life is not right, I will keep working on it until I fix it.

That’s simply who I am.

The Learning Never Stops

This milestone is important, but it is only one step in a much larger journey.

There are still challenges ahead.

There are still problems to solve.

And I will continue learning, improving, and pushing forward.

The learning never stops.

Living with liver cirrhosis forces you to learn about your own body in ways you never expected. Blood tests become more than just numbers on a screen — they become signals, warnings, and sometimes reassurance. Over the past months I have spent a lot of time studying my labs, trying to understand what they really mean and how they reflect what is happening inside my body.

One of the first things doctors look at in cirrhosis is albumin. Albumin is a protein made by the liver and it tells us how well the liver is still functioning. My albumin level is 4.6, which is considered excellent. That means my liver is still producing proteins effectively. In simple terms, despite the damage, my liver is still working.

Another important marker doctors use is the MELD score (Model for End-Stage Liver Disease). This score uses three numbers from blood tests: bilirubin, creatinine, and INR. Based on my recent labs — bilirubin around 1.7, creatinine 0.87, and INR about 1.3 — my MELD score is approximately 11. This places me in what doctors call the compensated cirrhosis range. It means the liver is damaged, but the body has adapted and is still maintaining balance.

Looking deeper into my results, my AST and ALT liver enzymes are normal, which means there is no active liver injury happening right now. My kidney function is excellent with an eGFR of 103, and that is very important because kidney health is one of the biggest factors affecting people with cirrhosis.

One thing that does show up clearly in my labs is portal hypertension. This happens when scarring in the liver increases pressure in the portal vein system. Because of that pressure, the spleen often becomes enlarged and starts trapping platelets and white blood cells. That is why my platelet count and white blood cells are low. It is not because my bone marrow is failing — my iron stores and ferritin levels show that my blood production is actually healthy.

Speaking of iron, my ferritin level is 128, which means my body has good iron reserves. There is no sign of iron deficiency and no iron overload. That is another reassuring sign that my body is still maintaining balance despite the challenges.

Some numbers are slightly elevated, such as my bilirubin, which sits around 1.7. This can happen in cirrhosis because bile does not move through the liver as efficiently as it should. But the increase is mild and stable, which doctors usually consider manageable.

When I look at all these results together, the picture becomes clearer. Yes, I have cirrhosis. Yes, portal hypertension is present. But my liver is still compensating, my kidneys are strong, and my body is adapting.

What matters most now is protecting what still works. That means staying disciplined with my health, keeping my nutrition strong, maintaining muscle through exercise, and monitoring my labs regularly. These numbers are not just medical data to me — they are a roadmap showing where I stand and how I keep moving forward.

My journey with liver disease has not been easy, but every test result I study gives me more knowledge and more control. I am not ignoring reality, but I am also not surrendering to it. As long as my body keeps fighting, I will keep fighting with it.

I have been dealing with serious stomach problems for almost 20 years. This is not something new. This followed me for two decades.

I have bloating almost every day. A lot of gases. Sometimes pressure in my stomach like something is stretching inside. And the worst part is urgency — sudden need to go to the bathroom even when I don’t feel ready. It affects daily life more than people think.

I tried to get help. I went to doctors. I asked questions. But I didn’t get much real help from Kaiser. Most of the time it felt like basic answers, no deep analysis. After so many years, I realized if I want real answers, I need to start analyzing everything myself.

So I turned to AI.

Now I analyze everything:

• What I eat
• How I train and how hard I push my body
• My current medications
• My stress level and nervous system

I think I may have pinpointed the main problem, but it is still too early to say 100%. After 20 years, I don’t want to rush conclusions.

So far, I am doing much better. My stomach feels calmer. Urgency is less. Gas is more controlled. But I have to be very careful.

I am also dealing with liver cirrhosis, and that alone needs special attention. I cannot experiment like a healthy person. Every food change, every supplement, every adjustment has to be calculated. My liver condition changes the whole strategy.

My life has been relatively good. I don’t regret anything, and I never will. Everything I went through made me who I am.

But now I want to prove something — first to myself, and then to the rest of the world — that I am capable of beating anything that stands in front of me.

Life is too short for me to give up. That is not an option.

Either I win, or I go down like many before me — but I will give everything I have before that moment ever comes. And when I say everything, I mean everything. No excuses. No quitting.

AI is helping me as much as it can. But I also understand AI can be wrong sometimes. That means I still have to use my brain, track symptoms, test changes carefully, and make smart decisions.

This is not just about gas or bloating.
This is about finally understanding what has been happening inside my body for 20 years — while protecting my liver at the same time.

Tonight I have to go give blood for my CT scan on Friday. I need to be ready for that. Step by step. One test at a time. One battle at a time.

God bless you all.

I’m still here. And I’m not done.

On Friday, March 6, I will undergo another CT scan. They will examine my liver carefully and check for any signs of a hernia. I’m also hoping they look closely for blood clots, since I’m still on Eliquis. Every scan carries a mix of hope and fear. You want answers — but you’re afraid of what those answers might say.

I’m also dealing with ongoing issues in my leg. My doctor recommended 30–40 mmHg compression, but I’m starting with 20–30 mmHg to ease into it. It may seem like a small detail, but when you live with a chronic condition, even socks become strategy. Every decision matters.

Right now, I’m doing well. But I’ve learned something the hard way — stability doesn’t mean safety. I can feel strong today and be fighting for balance tomorrow. That’s the reality of this condition. It can shift in a single day.

There are moments when I wonder if full recovery is even possible. I won’t pretend that thought doesn’t cross my mind. But here’s the truth: this is my battle. No one else can carry it for me. No one else can win it for me.

And I refuse to surrender.

I show up every single day. I go to the gym. I walk more than 20,000 steps. I stay active not because it’s easy — but because it’s necessary. Movement is my resistance. Discipline is my weapon. Consistency is my shield.

I am not lazy. I am not passive. I am not waiting for rescue.

I am fighting — with clarity, with intention, and with everything I have.

Whatever happens, I will meet it standing.

I arrived at the hospital around 9:30 AM, taking a Lyft because I wasn’t allowed to drive. The ride didn’t start great. I made a simple suggestion about the route to the hospital, and the driver did not take it well—rude, dismissive, and clearly not in the mood. Not exactly the calm start you want on a medical day, but I let it go and focused on getting there.

I was admitted into the waiting room around 10:20 AM, even though my appointment was scheduled for 9:50 AM. From there, it turned into a long wait. Nothing actually started until 11:30 AM. A lot of sitting, waiting, and mentally pacing. Hospitals have a way of stretching time.

After the procedure, my boss picked me up and drove me home—but the day still wasn’t done. His car broke down right in front of my house. So I did what I could: I let him borrow my car so he could get home. One of those “of course this happens today” moments.

Right now, I’m sore and uncomfortable. Eating is tough—yogurt is about all I can handle. I’m drinking coffee slowly, had a short one-hour nap earlier, and I’m basically letting my body dictate the pace of the day.

It wasn’t a dramatic day, just one of those real, imperfect ones. Medical stuff, delays, minor chaos, and recovery all mixed together. I’m listening to my body, keeping it simple, and calling today a win just for getting through it.

Tomorrow can worry about itself.