Life has taken an interesting turn. Yesterday, I was told I’d suffered a pulmonary embolism – I had blood clots in my lungs and couple more clots were lurking in the muscles of my left calf. This was a lot to take in, especially after an almost sleepless night in hospital, so I have decided to keep a record of how I reached that point and then how things progress.

I am a 64-year-old man living in southeast London, and working (as a technology consultant and writer) mainly from home. I edit Wikipedia. I like running, drinking beer and going to watch my old home town football club Crewe Alexandra (though all are now ruled out for the next few weeks). And I thought I was pretty healthy for my age. So, what happened?

Background

I started running in 2019 (having previously been an active club cyclist), progressing from the Couch to 5K plan to running my first Parkrun (Southwark Park) in June 2019, and a 10K in January 2020. I had a few niggly injuries along the way (ankle sprains, calf strains, shin splints, plantar fasciitis) before my lower limbs became accustomed to their new workload. COVID-19 also got in the way, of course, but I eventually ran my half-marathon in early 2023 (the Surrey Half), followed by a few others, and then my first marathon, in Prague in May 2025.

A hamstring issue prevented me running London’s Big Half in September 2025, but, having run the Barcelona Half in February, I opted for another Mediterranean event and registered to run the Naples Half in Italy in February 2026. I happily built up my mileage ahead of a once-in-a-lifetime family holiday in Tanzania at Christmas.

Afterwards, we flew back to the UK, landing at Heathrow on New Year’s Day, and I was soon running again – a couple of 10K runs, then a 26:50 parkrun at Charlton Park (my 50th parkrun and also my 100th time as a parkrun volunteer), and then, on Monday 12 January, a planned steady 14K non-stop evening run.

Breathless in Blackheath

It was a mild evening so I ran in shorts, lighting my way with a body torch. However, emerging onto the green space of Blackheath after about 13K, I overlooked a pothole and tripped, bruising and grazing my left knee. I didn’t feel particularly banged up, so ran the final kilometre home, showered, spritzed the graze with antiseptic woundspray, and had something to eat, looking forward to doing another, longer run two days later.

Running a bit further on 14 January proved impossible. Within a kilometre, I was increasingly breathless and I had to slow to a walk. I tried again, same result. My left calf was also sore (it felt like a cramp or a pulled muscle). So I headed home, slowly jogging short distances between further bouts of walking, and trying to stretch out that ‘cramp’. Once home, I showered and changed but I was still panting heavily; my Garmin smartwatch/Strava data also showed my heartrate shooting up even when I jogged slowly. Something was plainly wrong.

I rang my GP (Vanbrugh 2000 practice) early on Thursday 15 January, and (due to someone’s cancellation) was able to get an appointment the following morning, Friday 16 January. I told the GP about my recent shortness of breath, and she did all the expected things (blood pressure, pulse, temperature, listening to my heart and lungs, checking my calf for swelling – none). She then referred me for a chest X-ray – done later the same day in Eltham (got the bus there – in and out of Eltham Community Hospital in three minutes flat!) – and an ECG (electrocardiogram) – done the following Tuesday (20 January) at Queen Elizabeth Hospital (QEH).

I had a follow-up GP appointment on Friday 23 January. The GP said she’d ruled out lung infections and other common causes, but, as I was still experiencing occasional shortness of breath (when walking up local inclines, for example), she wanted to discuss things with her colleagues. An hour or so later, she called me and said I should go for a blood test as soon as was practicable – I arranged to return to Eltham Community Hospital at 10:45am on Tuesday 27 January (the earliest I could get – apparently some clinics are facing a winter rush).

A testing Tuesday

I drove to Eltham and gave the necessary blood samples. Later that afternoon (5ish), I was called by another GP from the Vanbrugh 2000 practice. He said the blood test results showed an abnormally high reading that needed urgent investigation at the Accident and Emergency department at QEH. I was somewhat shocked by the sudden turn of events. Fortunately, my wife Helen was able to drive me to QEH; in the meantime, the GP sent two messages via the NHS app that we showed to the QEH staff when we arrived at about 6pm.

While we waited to be processed in A&E, we Googled D-Dimer and learned that my result was eight times over the cut-off/normal level. I was called for further blood tests (via a canula in my right arm) and another ECG (7.30pm) and was then told to wait for a CT scan (I passed some time monitoring Crewe’s league game at Bromley which ordinarily I would have attended – Crewe bagged a draw courtesy of a 94th minute equaliser, just about the only thing to cheer me up all evening).

Some three hours later, I was told my latest blood sample had clotted so couldn’t be tested; another sample was – eventually – taken (it took several attempts to draw enough blood – left arm, left hand, back of right hand, base of right thumb). I waited and waited, but no further test results emerged.

Eventually, after midnight, I talked to a doctor and, after some discussion and repeated readings of those GP messages, it was agreed that I should be CT-scanned regardless. But it took over an hour before I was prepped (a new, larger canula in my left arm), and the CT scan was evenually done just before 2.30am.

Around an hour later, seated back in the A&E department, I was told that the CT scan showed blood clots in my lungs. It was likely that I would stay in hospital, be seen by a medical team and given immediate treatment. However, due to the lack of beds, I stayed in A&E where I had an injection of anticoagulants into my belly to start treatment. After more than 10 hours at QEH, I was then allowed to go home for a few hours (this was a relief – an elderly woman with dementia was shouting loudly in the neighbouring bay, making sleep impossible).

Weary Wednesday

After less than four hours sleep, I returned to QEH (this time to the Same Day Emergency Centre, SDEC) at 10am, and was subject to further blood tests. I also expected them to scan my left calf, but it turned out this couldn’t be done that day. I was interviewed at length by a doctor about the circumstances; he said the bang on my knee was the likely cause (so not the long haul flight back from Africa). It may have damaged a blood vessel in my leg. He prescribed anticoagulants, and an appointment was made to scan my calf the following morning. I was told to take things easy – no running for a few weeks, and probably no flying to Naples (confirmed definitely not in a later telephone call).

I took my prescription to the QEH Pharmacy; I was prescribed Rivaroxaban (30mg/day for three weeks, then 20mg for 9 weeks), but the most sobering wording on the form was the phrase “pulmonary embolism“, Still somewhat shocked, I returned home, talked to Helen, and – eventually – was able to catch up on some sleep.

During the morning, I got a text message from one of my best mates (and fellow Crewe supporter), Simon, asking if I’d gone to Bromley. He was a bit shocked when I told him I was in hospital.

Thursday

I started taking the medication, and returned to the SDEC. After being processed, I went for an ultrasound scan (USS Doppler) of my left leg. This identified two clots in the muscles of my calf.

Back in the SDEC, after further detailed conversations, a second doctor agreed that the banged knee (blunt trauma) was the most likely cause. I was told that the Rivaroxaban would target both the lung and calf clots (so no physical intervention, no more injections). In early March, I should get a letter calling me for an echo cardiogram (checking for any impacts on my heart), and would then need to return to the SDEC for further consultations the following day.

Reality check

I was initially planning to continue working as normal, with a conference in Greater Manchester next week requiring a train journey (plus local connections) and an overnight stay. However, the more I thought about it – and the more I read online about recovering from pulmonary embolisms – the less wise this seemed. I told colleagues I couldn’t make the trip and that my keynote contribution to the event would have to be delivered by someone else.

And I am slowly coming to terms with:

1. not running for a while
2. not being able to go for a pint or two (as I normally do a couple of times a week) and
3. missing two imminent Crewe games in the southeast (Barnet and Crawley).

Helen and I have been for a walk to Greenwich Park and back, stopping for a coffee and a chat. We talked about the past couple of weeks (why didn’t the GP suggest blood tests when I first saw her, resulting in a 10-day delay?) and about the next couple of months, although it’s difficult to make plans until we see how I get on with the medications, etc.

This was not how we expected 2026 to start.