Wednesday, August 31, 2016

So...That Happened...

So.  Last I updated, I had finished IMLP and was getting geared up to race IM Wisconsin.  I was pretty pumped for it.  Training was going reasonably well.  Not great, but not bad.  I caught a cold the first week or so back into real training but that wasn't too bad.  I think I missed a day or two of training and then got right back into it.

Then, on a training ride one day, I got stung by a bee (or some other evil insect).  I'm allergic to bee stings.  Not in the sense that I can't breathe and go into anaphylactic shock, but allergic in that this happens:

Yea, my lip/chin usually isn't that big.
So that was annoying.  But the swelling will eventually go away on it's own, so I continued on with training for the next few days and tried not to scare small children when I stopped in convenience stores for extra fluids on my rides.

Later that week though, I started to feel not great.  Like I might have something nasty brewing.  I went to swim practice one Friday morning and felt awful.  I remember we were swimming 200s on 2:30 and I seriously wanted to cry.  Like for real, tears in my goggles.  I came home and thought I'd lay down for "20-30 minutes" before my ride.  I woke up 4 hours later with the sheets soaking wet.  I was in a rough spot.

It didn't get better from there.  As in I got pretty sick.  And I developed a sharp epigastric pain to the point where I couldn't really stand up.  I definitely couldn't eat or drink.  And John finally convinced me to go to urgent care.  At urgent care, the doctor convinced me to go to the ER.  And that, my friends, is how you buy yourself a day in the hospital.

Worst IV ever.  It was ever so slightly kinked so if I even THOUGHT about moving my arm, the pump started beeping madly at me.  It was worse than swimming 200s on 2:30.
Not much was discovered at the hospital.  Lots of tests and poking and prodding.  My first ever belly CT where the nurse did NOT tell me that the contrast they inject into your IV makes your whole arm feel like it's on fire.  Seriously - you should tell people that's going to happen.  I thought I was dying!  (I don't get sick often so I really suck at being sick, as you might be piecing together here...)  Some discussion about a bad appendix but then my appendix wasn't visible on CT.  To which my doctor asked "you DO have an appendix, right"?  Umm...I think so!  Nobody ever took it out to my knowledge!  Oh man...

In the end, I left the hospital with no real answers but I was pumped full of IV fluids and medicine and I thought feeling much better.

Except I wasn't really better.  And the next couple days were pretty darn miserable.  I still couldn't eat  or really drink and I lost more weight than I should have and I definitely was not training.

Eventually my symptoms got better just by me sleeping most of the day, but what didn't come back was my ability or willingness to eat.  Now.  Those of you that know me, KNOW eating is one of my talents.  And in my 37 years of life, I NEVER remember being sick enough that I couldn't eat.  I spent 12 years as a clinical dietitian trying to convince sick people that the only way to get better was to start eating.  And I never understood how it could be so hard.  For real - JUST EAT.  Even if you don't feel like it...just eat.  But now?  Now I get it.  Not having an appetite and being sickened by the thought of food - that's a real thing.  It's a sad thing.  It made me very sad.

So another doctor's visit and some new medicine (that tastes like chalk but makes me able to eat) and I'm slowly getting back to normal.  Whatever the heck I caught, it was no good.  And I don't recommend catching it.  Zero fun.

Chalk medicine.  For people with peptic ulcers and stuff.  Or people like me who REALLY want to eat again.

In the mean time, I've slowly started to return to training.  VERY slowly.  Somewhere in the midst of my misery (I'm making it sound like it was months and years of pain and torture...really it has only been about 2 weeks), Tim and I decided Wisconsin wasn't a great idea.  Not just from the viewpoint of missed training, but also due to the fact that after being pretty sick, putting my body through an Ironman didn't seem like a great method to full recovery.  So that's pretty disappointing.  But that's sport for you.  Sometimes you are GREATLY, greatly rewarded for your hard work.  But much of the time you are disappointed.  And that's okay.  When the rewards no longer outweigh the disappointment, it will be time to move onto something else.  But I'm not there just yet.

So what's next?  Other than slowly adding food back into my life (oh food!  how I missed you!!)?  I'm not sure!  We'll see how the body responds and take it from there.  One thing's for sure though - I will never take my good appetite for granted again!  Eat on, friends!  And stay away from the plague!!

I made myself brownies in hopes of wanting to eat them.  But then I didn't even want those, really.  Sad clown.

No worries.  In the mean time, the sky was really pretty last night.  :)