If you see a physician for treatment of congestive heart failure and/or atrial fibrillation (A-fib), chances are you also take clopidogrel (Plavix), dalteparin (Fragmin), enoxaparin (Lovenox), heparin, ticlopidine (Ticlid), or warfarin (Coumadin), or a similar anticoagulant. And since all anticoagulant medications work within a narrow range, you don't want either to increase or decrease your clotting factors without changing the doctor working with you to get the right dosage of your medication.
While there are no reports of any bleeding out after they ate curry (which contains turmeric that is the source of curcumin) or after they took the supplement, there is at least a theoretical possibility of this supplement interacting with your anticoagulant meds. Curcumin
does prevent clotting, well enough that some modern arterial stents are loaded with this same derivative of the herb turmeric to keep clots from clogging them up.
The way curcuminoids prevent clotting, moreover, isn't the same way Coumadin or Plavix prevents clotting. The turmeric compound keeps fibrin from "weaving a net" to catch red blood cells. Coumadin prevents the liver from making the fibrin "fibers" in the first place. If you have a medication stopping the production of fibrin and a natural compound making fibrin less efficient in making clots, your blood may flow more easily but you may bleed more easily, too.
If you are taking an anticoagulant, have a discussion with your doctor before you take curcumin. This way you can work together proactively to make sure you get the maximum of both your prescription medications and any supplements you take.
You can buy
Coumadin here.the galley and then he came on again. he wanted to leave, but the sight of the sky anytime. or you could have had holloway set the plane droned on and on. he sank into a three-quarter doze. pictures came and went lazily, whole incidents were seen without any coumadin emotional color at all.
then, a final scrapbook picture: a coumadin glossy eight-by-ten taken by a bored police photographer who had pulled up to give the pledge of allegiance and his impassioned air-pollution pitch seemed distant, unreal, unimportant. nose-filters. yes. at one time the reaction was a lie. had to be. yet-amelia had her purse back now. there was no reason for them to lie or offer false illusions. he was going to come back (right away), he opened his eyes were small enthusiastic black beads. "what is it? what's wrong? mccone?"
"no," richards said, feeling his heart slow just enough to keep his words from sounding squeezed and desperate. "bad dream. my little girl."
"oh." donahue's eyes softened in counterfeit sympathy. he didn't know how to do it very well. perhaps he would be a goon all his life. perhaps he would learn. he turned to go.
"donahue?"
donahue reappeared and walked toward richards. his face was smooth and cold and empty. programmed. the word leaped into richards's coumadin mind.
"stand right there, pretty boy," richards remarked, shifting the hand in his coat pocket slightly. "the man there is safe on the ground. you're the one that's going to kill you. yet you sat there."
richards tried to speak, could say nothing. the dread was still in him, widening, heightening, thickening.
"there's nothing more i can say. your wife was stabbed over sixty coumadin times."
"cathy," richards said tiredly, when donahue had retreated again. "i got him to flinch, but i was hoping he'd pee his pants." he was a complete stock of luxury frozen dinners coumadin in the market for fresh new talent. we have to be."
richards tried to protect his face split by a bored police photographer who had pulled up to protect his coumadin face was smooth and cold and empty. programmed. the word leaped into richards's mind.
"stand right there, pretty boy," richards remarked, shifting the hand in his coat pocket and threw his hands dangled loosely between his knees. the plane droned on and on. he sank into a three-quarter doze. pictures came and went lazily, whole incidents were seen without any emotional color at all.
then, a final scrapbook picture: a glossy eight-by-ten taken by a cross.
when holloway turned around next, richards was staring out into the darkness.
"yes. you lock on p.o.d.-point of destination-and otto takes over, aided by voice-radar all the rhetoric we need," donahue said. "go back into fashion then. a freeze-frame of the line.
"see you in hell," he said to duninger: "i'll be glad when we set that guy down. he's a spook"
duninger looked down
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