...wherein our heroine encounters a roadblock.
It goes to show you just never know what's about to happen. You'll be cruising along with your training, everything going pretty well, progress being made and then BAM! some unknown force will throw something your way just to see how well you handle it. And make no mistake, you won't see it coming. I've been waiting for that out-of-nowhere flat tire to come at me. I've been expecting the sore knee to show up. Old rotator cuff injury even popped it's head up once or twice to see if anyone was watching for it. You know; usual stuff for someone who's been putting their body through pretty rigorous physical demands. But sometimes the universe gets bored and needs entertainment.
This mornings episode involved me getting out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom to begin my morning regimen. Shower, hair, makeup, dressed and out the door. My brain was just awake enough as I stepped over the threshold to the bathroom to think..."My face feels funny." Not funny ha-ha; funny odd. I turned to the mirror and was horrified to see my left eye swollen mostly shut and my cheek also pretty puffy. Aaackk! I scared me. Then I noticed some tingling in my face. I thought to myself, "Self. This is not good" But maybe I just slept on my face or something. I'll give it some time. I don't get sick.
Halfway through the shower, my tongue is tingling, too. Hmmm. The situation does not seem to be reversing itself. But what could it be? I don't get sick.
Thank goodness, a rational part of me realized that I was trying to deny a very large, puffy problem and pushed through to the forefront and suggested that maybe I should call the doctor. Good idea! I rang up the doctor's office and the nice automated female voice told me that they opened at 8:30. I finished getting ready for work, sans eye makeup (yikes!) and headed to the see Dr. Hammond.
The receptionist didn't even flinch when she saw me. She calmly took my name and asked me what I needed to be seen for. "Uhm. My face is schwollen. Shee my eye". The cheek was getting puffier. She "Hmmmed" at me and took my co-pay. I thought that maybe I was over-reacting due to the fact that receptionist didn't seem to see my issue. Did the swelling go away on the ride over and I'm just being neurotic? A dash to the lobby restroom revealed that I still slightly resembled Sloth from The Goonies.
It wasn't crowded so I was called back very quickly. The doctor's assistant didn't appear to see my problem either. "So what are we seeing you for today?" she asks as she takes my weight and blood pressure. Uhm, hello? My face is either having a reaction to something, I've been bitten by the biggest spider on the planet or my body is, after 34 years and 9 months, finally trying to expel my previously unknown twin. "Ok! The doctor will be in in a minute!"
Sure enough, a minute goes by and the door opens. Dr. Hammond walks in, says hi, looks me in the face and says. "So what...oh wow."
Thank you! I felt a huge amount of relief. Now we're getting somewhere. I hopped up on the table and she poked around a bit. No ear infection, no eye infection, no fever, nothing to indicate there is a problem other than the extra bit of face I was sporting. No drooping which indicates no Bell's Palsy or stroke, thank goodness, and after calling a colleague of hers to get a 2nd opinion on treatment options, I'm told I am probably having an allergic reaction to something I ate and sent on my way with an antibiotic and steroid prescription and directions to get my butt back there immediately if the swelling gets worse.
Then something makes me say, "Thanks! Glad I'm getting this cleared up. I have a big run and swim tonight."
She replies, "Oh no you don't. Not until this is gone" and heads off to heal another patient.
Uh-oh. The tri-borg in my head calmly asserts "Can't miss workout. Workout is vital." But I know that you just can't risk your health. Much. So ok. Fine. I can take a day off. But that's it. One day. I'm 5 weeks away from my race. One day is all I can spare and that's pushing it.
Then I get my prescription filled. It's not one dose of steroids, it's 6 days! There are a billion little pills stair-stepped on this card! I called the office back and find out that Dr. doesn't want me doing any strenuous activity for 3 or 4 days. "But, but, but I'm training for this race. I really need to.."
"Sorry. You just don't need to risk it." She says.
And over the course of the day I admit that she's right. Fine, I'll do what I'm told. I'll be graceful about it. I've heard enough horror stories of people disregarding advice and pushing on anyway and then being out of commission for weeks or even months.
Deep inside though, I'm freaking out about what these 3 days off will do to my training and momentum and goal of finishing in under 2 hours.
sigh...is it Friday yet?
...wherein our heroine encounters a roadblock.