RBR: The inauspicious beginning

I have been struggling with my asthma since Bizz Johnson. So much so, that I am back on my nebulizer

The students are convinced I am somehow allowed to smoke pot at school. Yeah, it's pot that is in a liquid form, requires an air compressor, and doesn't smell like pot. Morons! Learn your druggie facts! I am embarrassed to call myself your teacher.

Anyway, this made me think of what started all of this exercise stuff in the first place.

In 2003, I was in my third year of teaching, coaching two sports, mentoring one club, still working weekends at my old job, juggling 5 pet sitting clients, finishing my clear teaching credential classes, and had started my first masters program. Low and behold I got sick,

...but I didn't have time to be sick, so I kept going.

Then I got sicker.

still no time to be sick, so I kept going.

People started to notice I was not doing well. I could not walk the entire length of the campus without stopping. My husband finally put his foot down and TOOK my stubborn ass to the doctor. The doctor said it was possibly walking pneumonia, "here's an inhaler, some antibiotics, don't work for the next week or two..."

Yeah, right.

I took two days off and kept going. By now I am forced to sleep sitting up, because I can't sleep laying down without feeling like I am going to die,

but I kept thinking it would get better.

I went back to the doctor, she says my lungs sound awful, gives me some steroids and two more types of inhalers, a nebulizer, and says "I think you have asthma, that makes the pneumonia much more dangerous. Don't go back to work yet." She is visibly stunned when I say I went back last week.

I still thought it would get better, so I went back to work. I was pretty non-functional at my job. I had a wheezing/coughing fit at school and had to send a student to get my inhaler because I could not make the 200 yard walk. I decided to take a couple of days off to "knock this thing out." At home I can't eat, sleep, or move. Walking from one room to another I run out of air and go down on one knee. I got to the bathroom to find the new rescue inhaler ( I was using them about 20 times a day at this point) and I barely recognized myself in the mirror.

I decided to go back to the doctor. At the office, my SpO2 (measure of the amount of oxygen in my blood which should be 99-100%) was 90% and it dropped to 82% if I talked or tried to walk across the room. The doctor explained that at 81% they will intubate you and put you on a ventilator.

That afternoon I was admitted to the hospital. That night I watched my husband cry as he signed a DNR (do not resuscitate) form as a precaution in case they had to intubate me and my brain went without oxygen for more than 6 minutes.

I was in the hospital for 10 days. Every medical student, nursing student, and respiratory tech in the hospital came to listen to my lungs. I was placed in the cancer ward because the respiratory therapists had to treat me every three hours, I was on 24 hour/day oxygen, I had to get IV steroid injections three times a day, IV antibiotics twice a day, and I needed a new IV catheter every morning.

The absolute worst part of this is I had done it to myself. I ignored warning signs. I ignored loved ones that pleaded and argued with me. I thought I just needed to get to the "after."

The "After" is a lie I tell myself and loved ones when I over commit and lose myself. "It will get better after this semester", "it will get better after I finish this season", "it will get better after the holidays", etc., etc.

10 days alone in a hospital gives you a lot if time to think about your life. Don't get me wrong, I had visitors. My family, students, and friends came to see me, but there was still A LOT of alone time.

I thought about all the things I sacrificed in order to maintain an admittedly insane schedule. I would routinely forget family and friends' birthdays and anniversaries, I would refuse almost all invitations because I was too tired or too busy, my animal family time was reduced to basic maintenance (feed, water, clean, repeat), my husband is very self-sufficient but the amount of time we spent being a couple was frighteningly little.

Plus, I didn't do anything else but work and school. I had NO hobbies. Not one. I had to make shit up on my resume to make my self sound more interesting.

If I died there in that hospital, all people could say about me is "Boy, could that girl work!"

When I got out I decided to change some things. I had been SCUBA certified in Hawaii, but always wanted to take a "real" course and dive in California (I don't know why it is WAY too freaking cold!). I did my open water re-certification, then additional Advanced Open Water, and a Nitrox certifications.

Then in 2005, I found Team in Training and triathlon. The rest, as they say, is history. I still have MAJOR issues with balance and overcommitment, but as one long time friend pointed out to me recently, at least some of it is about me now. (Well, we all know that martyrs like my former, and often, current self come from a very self-centered base, but that is a discussion for another time :o)


Good luck to all that are racing this weekend! There are a SLEW of you!

Stef and my LA Run Buddy are rocking it out at the Pumpkinman Triathlon today!

AndreaN, AKA Alice (and her hefferettes), and RunningKnitter are all doing the Nike Women's Marathon and 1/2 Marathon on Sunday.

Lisa Slow-and-Steady is doing the Duke City 1/2 Marathon on Sunday

IronGeekGirl Misty is doing the Palo Duro Canyon 50K, while her hubby, S.Baboo, does the 50 miler on Sunday

I am certain I have missed people, but I am tired and I have to go smoke some liquid pot*

*See reference at very beginning of post. I know my post is too long, so I didn't want anyone thinking I was being serious. No, there is no such thing as liquid pot and if there was you couldn't smoke it.

Sorry about all the LOL cats, but I LOVE lol cats. They make me laugh.
That might make me stupid and pedestrian, but
I don't care! That shit is funny!