I'm not normally someone who puts her life problems on the Internet, but because I decided to open up on here and share what the doctor told us, I feel that I need to update. I'd rather be on here cracking jokes about our kids, or relaying some funny story about Miles' potty training. Unfortunately, the cardiologist told me yesterday that he doesn't think that the left atrium herniated. In fact, he doesn't know what is wrong. Boom. Bombshell. Back to square one.
Well, maybe not entirely square one, but that's sure what it feels like. He is referring us up to the cardio specialist at OHSU, but we're still chasing answers. Meanwhile, giving the kids a bath, and making the bed set off my chest pressure and discomfort. I've been back at work this week. I'm uncomfortable, constantly feel like Carter is sitting on top of me, that I just smoked a pack of cigarettes, and that's just when I'm sitting. Even if I WANTED to go on a run, and if everyone who saw me in Scott Valley didn't stop and put me in their car in a straightjacket, I CAN'T PHYSICALLY run. I can't do 20% of what I could do physically a month ago.
SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH ME. I went from running 30-40 miles a week, lifting twice a week, and crushing a 10 mile run at a seven minute pace, to barely being able to maintain daily functions.
I'm determined, I am tough, and I will chase this down.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Saturday, February 22, 2014
WARNING - Self Absorbed Venting Ahead
If I ever wanted to be the posterchild for something it sure as hell wasn't going to be Heart Disease. Nope not me. Non-smoker, mild drinker, runner, cyclist, triathlete, marathoner, two Nalgene a dayer, 5:30am gym goer. Not this chick. I want to be the posterchild of badass-ness. Sure, my box jumps aren't cross-fit certified. I may not have trained for the last 106 mile bike ride. Perhaps I did suffer from mild frostbite a couple marathons ago, but I finished. I wake up every goddamn morning at 5am to workout before I begin my day. Not because I WANT to every morning, but because I need to. Because it makes me feel human. I crave the physical limits of a six mile run at a sub seven minute mile pace before the sun is awake. I choose to make my my muscles burn before work. The long run every week helps define who I am to myself. It may come at 4:30 am on a Wednesday or 4pm on a Friday, but it makes me a better mom, wife, teacher, leader.
My natural ability to drive forward and my stubbornness nearly cost me my life over the last month. January 20th, 2014, I quit the second thing I've ever started in my entire life. (Unless you count Jr. High basketball, and that is another story.) I listened to my heart. Around mile 20 of a marathon I found myself experiencing chest pain and shortness of breath. For nearly two weeks I berated myself for quitting. Perhaps I could have pushed through. Gosh Joy, you were so close to that BQ time, you could taste it. Why did you quit?? I continued to struggle through workouts and runs, barely able to keep a pace without feeling like an elephant was on my chest. I kept pushing the limit, over and over again, six or seven days a week, until I was at work at my left arm went numb.
Turns out the pneumonia I thought I was battling is something much bigger. Much bigger than me. After thousands of dollars of tests, I finally have an answer. My left atrium has herniated outside of the pericardium. Turns out that elephant on my chest and shortness of breath isn't something that a 5:30am workout is going to fix, let alone tolerate.
So I sit. I thank God I had enough sense to stop and listen to my own heart. I am lucky to be alive. I should relish in that. But in the last two weeks I feel like I have lost a part of myself. I'm not leaving the house for the gym, I'm not pounding out the sub seven minute mile pace on the treadmill. I'm not me. It's the same heart, the same mind, the same body. I'm alive. First and foremost I will always be a wife and mom, but I don't want to lose who I am.
The future holds further tests. Maybe surgery. A lot of possible changes to the person I've become in the last 29 years. I'm not ready to accept those yet. Although my running is not elite status, it's hard to let go of all of the work I have put into myself. There's nothing like the "pat on the back" that a good runs gives to you, to yourself.
Shot through the heart, and you're to blame. Listening to my heart, it's time for a break. But we'll be back again, running and I. Maybe a little slower, maybe a little shorter, but this love affair of the heart isn't over yet.
My natural ability to drive forward and my stubbornness nearly cost me my life over the last month. January 20th, 2014, I quit the second thing I've ever started in my entire life. (Unless you count Jr. High basketball, and that is another story.) I listened to my heart. Around mile 20 of a marathon I found myself experiencing chest pain and shortness of breath. For nearly two weeks I berated myself for quitting. Perhaps I could have pushed through. Gosh Joy, you were so close to that BQ time, you could taste it. Why did you quit?? I continued to struggle through workouts and runs, barely able to keep a pace without feeling like an elephant was on my chest. I kept pushing the limit, over and over again, six or seven days a week, until I was at work at my left arm went numb.
Turns out the pneumonia I thought I was battling is something much bigger. Much bigger than me. After thousands of dollars of tests, I finally have an answer. My left atrium has herniated outside of the pericardium. Turns out that elephant on my chest and shortness of breath isn't something that a 5:30am workout is going to fix, let alone tolerate.
So I sit. I thank God I had enough sense to stop and listen to my own heart. I am lucky to be alive. I should relish in that. But in the last two weeks I feel like I have lost a part of myself. I'm not leaving the house for the gym, I'm not pounding out the sub seven minute mile pace on the treadmill. I'm not me. It's the same heart, the same mind, the same body. I'm alive. First and foremost I will always be a wife and mom, but I don't want to lose who I am.
The future holds further tests. Maybe surgery. A lot of possible changes to the person I've become in the last 29 years. I'm not ready to accept those yet. Although my running is not elite status, it's hard to let go of all of the work I have put into myself. There's nothing like the "pat on the back" that a good runs gives to you, to yourself.
Shot through the heart, and you're to blame. Listening to my heart, it's time for a break. But we'll be back again, running and I. Maybe a little slower, maybe a little shorter, but this love affair of the heart isn't over yet.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Love, Love, Love. . .
The past month has been spent in mourning for the lack of snow and weather. Each day Carter begs me to check the Mt. Shasta Ski Park website in hopes that there is enough snow to ski. Both boys have the full set-up and a season pass, but unfortunately Mother Nature has had other plans. Although it rained this last weekend, we've been without much winter weather. However, we've made lemonade out of lemons. Instead of skiing each weekend we've hunted for dinosaur bones, gone on bike rides, taken a shopping trip to Medford, sunbathed on our patio, and bbqed hot dogs on the asphalt. Not really, but it sure seems possible.
After all of the skiing that Carter and I did together last winter, I have realized how much I have missed it. It really is quite depressing to look at the webcams in summer conditions. Even the local lakes and rivers resemble streams.
Bradley was gone for a couple of nights this last week and the boys helped out a TON. As soon as we got home they began to tend to the chickens. We started out with five ladies, but made some rookie mistakes and are now down to three. As I was heading out of the garage I heard screams from Carter letting me know that the chickens had escaped. I calmly asked the boys to put the girls back. Not really thinking they would do it, I came back to find Carter carrying one chicken. Not to be outdone Miles helped with the second, and then brought in the third. This may seem like old news, but prior to this the boys refused to pick up the chickens and always watched their dad do it. I guess with daddy out of the house, they felt they had to man up.
Once inside Carter proceeded to bring in kindling to start the fire, empty the dishwasher, unload the dryer, and put the wash into the dryer. He also swept up by the fireplace and set the table for dinner. All without being asked. I will remind you that he's not even five yet. After dinner, Miles and Carter both cleared the table without being asked. In fact, Miles even relinquished his chocolate kiss in order to carry my plate to the sink. I am so blessed to have such wonderful sons. They really stepped up with daddy out of the house. I did not ask them, but they seemed to just know. Probably the best part of daddy's absence was the fact that they both got to share the bed with me.
Today Carter and I went on a bike ride together. A friend of mine gave me a "ride along", and Carter had a blast. In fact, we biked over five miles together. He and the extra bike add on about 100 pounds to my mountain bike and I promise you that it was quite the workout. Even with his little legs pedaling, those hills caused quite a sweat. I was sure he would be tired when we got home, but instead he helped rake the lawn and prune the fruit trees. While we were gone Miles helped Bradley get hay for Rocky the horse.
Bottom line, I appreciate my husband and my boys so incredibly much. To say that I love them is almost an understatement and not enough. I love them to the moon and back a million times, with every square millimeter of my heart. They amaze me in new ways every single day and I appreciate them so very much. In light of the upcoming holiday of love, we Mustache You to take time to show love to those around you.
 |
| Carter wants to be a Paleontologist so his dad took him hunting for dinosaur bones up at the ranch. Carter identified this one as triceratops. Many other bone pieces made it home and are awaiting identification. |
After all of the skiing that Carter and I did together last winter, I have realized how much I have missed it. It really is quite depressing to look at the webcams in summer conditions. Even the local lakes and rivers resemble streams.
Bradley was gone for a couple of nights this last week and the boys helped out a TON. As soon as we got home they began to tend to the chickens. We started out with five ladies, but made some rookie mistakes and are now down to three. As I was heading out of the garage I heard screams from Carter letting me know that the chickens had escaped. I calmly asked the boys to put the girls back. Not really thinking they would do it, I came back to find Carter carrying one chicken. Not to be outdone Miles helped with the second, and then brought in the third. This may seem like old news, but prior to this the boys refused to pick up the chickens and always watched their dad do it. I guess with daddy out of the house, they felt they had to man up. Once inside Carter proceeded to bring in kindling to start the fire, empty the dishwasher, unload the dryer, and put the wash into the dryer. He also swept up by the fireplace and set the table for dinner. All without being asked. I will remind you that he's not even five yet. After dinner, Miles and Carter both cleared the table without being asked. In fact, Miles even relinquished his chocolate kiss in order to carry my plate to the sink. I am so blessed to have such wonderful sons. They really stepped up with daddy out of the house. I did not ask them, but they seemed to just know. Probably the best part of daddy's absence was the fact that they both got to share the bed with me.
Today Carter and I went on a bike ride together. A friend of mine gave me a "ride along", and Carter had a blast. In fact, we biked over five miles together. He and the extra bike add on about 100 pounds to my mountain bike and I promise you that it was quite the workout. Even with his little legs pedaling, those hills caused quite a sweat. I was sure he would be tired when we got home, but instead he helped rake the lawn and prune the fruit trees. While we were gone Miles helped Bradley get hay for Rocky the horse.
Bottom line, I appreciate my husband and my boys so incredibly much. To say that I love them is almost an understatement and not enough. I love them to the moon and back a million times, with every square millimeter of my heart. They amaze me in new ways every single day and I appreciate them so very much. In light of the upcoming holiday of love, we Mustache You to take time to show love to those around you.
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