Brain Dead

Sunday:
I ate 4 servings of baklava and cheated and went for a 30 minute spin on the elliptical trainer sans arms. In the middle of my session I lost my ability to see out of my left eye. It was really bizarre, like the lens was there, just nothing was coming through. And a little bit of my right eye too.
As my heart rate came down, my vision was restored, but it was pretty scary.

Monday
I called the orthopaedist's office to get a ruling on whether it was caused by the shoulder. Last time, when my shoulder would tense up, I'd have problems with my left ear, and I was wondering if it hadn't swelled and pressed on a nerve somewhere.
The ortho said no, but to see my regular doctor.

I called my regular doctor. The nurse completely freaked out and told me to go to the ER. Ummm, no. My experience with ER's has been bad, generally they are not the best doctors and they cause more problems than they solve.
She then agreed to get me in to see my GP the next day.

I called my PT office to give them the heads up, they refused to treat me until I got the all clear from the cardiologist.

Tuesday
I go see my PCP, he agrees that it's probably caused by the hypoglycemia, or I might be anemic. Two invasive procedures and one more which forced me to repair tissue, and my being vegetarian, meant for a recipe for disaster. Not to mention the mass quantities of painkillers and Aleve.

I get blood drawn for everything from blood sugar to anemia to CBC.

I get an EKG which is fine.

The doctor recommends I see a cardiologist and a neurologist.
I get in to see the cardiologist, they do an echocardiogram and everything is fine.

Wednesday
I go back to the cardiologist who does a stress test. I was running one a treadmill at a 10% incline. They had to get my heart rate above 185 (good luck) and keep it there for something like 2 minutes. It was hard. I'm sort of convinced that if I didn't have a stroke doing that, I'm not going to.

The test comes out fine. Not going to die of a heart attack any time soon.

Second cardiologist thinks it might have been a migraine. I was under the impression that migraines were headaches. Whatever.

They have an issue of Gun & Garden in the waiting room. Awesome.

I try to make an appointment with the neurologist, they can't see me until mid-May. Is it just me or is that bad practice.

I get my note and go back to PT.

Following Monday
I get a post card from my GP, all my test results are fine but they don't say what they were. I call to find out, they never call back.

Wednesday
I get my eyes checked. The Dr. says my eyes are fine, not detaching any retinas, also thinks it's a migraine.
Seriously, aren't headaches an integral part of migraines?

I mention this to my PT, she is skeptical and asks that I see a neurologist anyways.

The GP still hasn't called back.

Second Base

The wine club is running the National Race for the Cure again.

Our team name is Run For Love.

It's a 5K that you can run or walk in DC, last time I was coming off of a broken leg and sprained ankle, so I walked it. One advantage to walking is that you can stop at Starbucks and not spill your latte.
My plan this year is to run it, preferably in a pink running skirt.

You don't have to have boobs to join the team or to run, you just have to want to preserve their natural awesomeness.

The link to my completely irreverent website is to the right.

Pot Pouri

So I asked my PT if I could bike this weekend.
No.

Can I run this weekend?
No.

What would happend to me if I did?
Your shoulder will develop a reactionary inflamatory response, and you'll have chronic inflamation. It won't heal properly, it will never be right again, and Kaiser Soczei will kill you in your sleep.

So no fun yet.

In addition to trying bikram yoga I have decided to go back to ... ballet!
My leotard, tights, and ballet shoes came.
I talked to the guy at the ballet centre. They were super nice and not snooty. This should be good for some hilarious blogging later.

I read about Ryan Shay's autopsy today. Big reminder to get a physical and see a cardiologist when I'm ready to ramp my training back up.
HCM and MVP run in my family so there's some things that need to be addressed to make sure I don't die of a heart attack during a race.

Goldicox and the three boors

So today I went to a meeting at the boathouse mainly to meet the new coach.
A brief history:

In the beginning there were two rec programs, a women's program and a men's program, both full. The board saw fit to combine the program causing much malcontent among the rowers.
Many women moved up to the 4 day competitive program with the intention of civil disobedience by only attending 3 days a week.
They also had a coach who was a great person off the water but was ... we'll say harsh ... on the water. When you can make a wedding planner who has teenage sons cry, something is wrong. And if you can only motivate people by screaming at them, you don't have a very broad repertoire. Again, she was a highly motivated athlete. She was a rower, also a marathoner and a triathlete, but she was not a good coach.
Then, the women's 4 day program got the direct opposite. A very sweet laissez-faire guy. He was sort of the anti-coach. The women complained about the lack of structure.
The easy going guy is now coaching the rec group, and the w4d gets a new coach.

The new coach: L was a high school and college coach. At our boathouse she helped coach the uber-competitive women's five day team. About them: I am only bitchy about this because I am insanely jealous. They are not people they are Rowers with a capital R. They are frighteningly thin, having conquered the need to eat that weakens us mortals. Also, as far as I can tell, they do not have jobs or personal lives, just Rowing. They thrive on punishment.

So needless to say, coming back from an injury I was a little concerned about what the new coach's expectations for the team were. I stayed after to talk to her and explained my situation stating that now is the time to object if she doesn't want to deal with my "issues". And that I would likely opt to not perform the land workouts in lieu of doing them with my physical therapist. She swears she's cool with everything, but the woman never smiled. Not once.
I'm actually wondering if she's one of those people who is more creepy when she smiles, like Tom Cruise. I don't trust people who are unattractive when they smile. It's not natural.

I asked one of the other coaches what she's like. Mainly "Will she make anyone cry on the water?"
"That depends on how you take her comments."

Well, F.

Third time is the charm?

So three months almost to the day from the last surgery, I had another surgery.
The thought was that maybe a pin had come loose and I might have a rotator cuff tear.

I was supposed to wear something button down, since getting stuff over my head was going to be difficult. And something I would be comfortable in all day. And something warm, since I had wicked chills coming out of the anesthesia the last two times.
Clearly, this can only be satisfied by pink flannel French Kitty pajamas.

Well, the surgery took some time, and it turns out I didn't have a rotator cuff tear. I had a bone spur (!) which was rubbing on the rotator cuff tendon causing inflamation. And one of the pins had broken in half and part of it was floating around causing issues. Funny how something so small can cause so much pain. Sort of like constantly having an eyelash in your eye.

It immediately felt so much better than the last two times. I'm working on Range of Motion almost exclusively since they also found that I have a freakish ability to grow scar tissue.

Keep your fingers crossed!

Weekend binge

So stress over the impending surgery, stress over my rommate moving out with next to no notice, and a series of seriously disturbing nightmares led to stress eating in a major way.

This in turn led to slightly more exercise than usual.

Saturday was Rob's 3 hour spin class back at the old gym. It was a reprise of the Mary Pat tribute class: the 5 W's and How.

Tri Clubber L brought her brother M who made us all sprint because he didn't take the hint on the name check. Then Rob let us play Screw Your Buddy. I'll let you guess who was everyone's buddy.

During class Rob, K, and L mentioned they were looking to do a long run on Sunday. Rob had signed up for the B&A half marathon that I did last year but it was sold out so L and I couldn't join. I mentioned a lovely 10 miler, but it was on the Eastern Shore 3 hours away. Later that day I found a great option in Columbia with a 10K and a 15K, perfect, and it started at 2pm, even more perfect. Too bad I was too lazy to run. I ended up getting in 40 minutes on the elliptical, with no hands this time.

I felt bad until Rob emailed everyone saying he had got up, gotten dressed, eaten his pre-race breakfast, and then gone back to bed.