And Then I Cried to My Teacher...

This term has had it's particular challenges. I am not sure why this term so much more than last term. Maybe the bloom of the rose was overtaken somewhat by the thorns. Maybe it's that I got married and spring came and all I want to do is go running in the green green world with my new husband and best friend. Maybe. Whatever the reason I feel like laziness plays a part. Maybe it is because I spent way too much of my undergrad not applying myself fully. Anyway, I have been working on this research paper. With the help of my mother's partner who is a fantastic research librarian I have a bunch of really great sources. I should have gotten more serious about all of this sooner but the week I had planned for it became sick as a dog on the couch week and I barely went pee, let alone worked on a paper. Anyway, I was behind and then all of the other stuff we have this semester started to pile up and I was waiting on sources to arrive and then bam! Here we are, finals are next week. Lab final was yesterday and I don't want to know what my score was on the written. I went down in flames! I am just glad that that class is a pass fail this term. I did well in class all term I just know this would have tanked me to a B instead of an A and sometimes just knowing that you passed is good enough.

So, I was just finished with one exam and getting ready for another when I walked in to hear everyone talking about the paper. I started to freak out. I realized that in spite of the fact that I was now up to date in all other areas I was totally in the weeds with this toxicology paper. I felt like shit. I looked at the schedule and realized that there was no way I was going to be able to spend the time I needed to on my EKG and pharmacology finals if I was trying to pull this paper out of my ass! Something was going to give and I was terrified it was going to be my EKG, pharm and I worked too hard to get B's in those classes. I called my instructor about the paper. He was trying to be helpful but told me to try to "power through" and just get it all done. That did not help. I know he has likely gotten fifteen other phone calls about this stuff and so his kindness and empathy are likely a little thin at this point, but "power through"? Really? C'mon! I was pissed off and freaked out. I went upstairs to my program director and was horrified to realize that I was crying and couldn't stop! I have, in my youth, used my "girl card" and attempted to cry my way out of things. It has been years and certainly not at all this year since I have pulled any of that. I tried to stop but Suzanne pulled me into her office and I was just leaking! I told her I had tried to call the instructor and told her he told me to triage and I told her how overwhelmed I felt and how I HAD to get A's in Kate's classes. She listened kindly and asked if I thought that being out sick had put me in this bind or if I had been ill prepaired. I told her I thought both had happened. I felt like I had been on track until I got sick and then I just felt like I was one legged and things were not getting done the way I had planned out. She told me that I was not the first person to come to her but I was the first person to accept total responsibility for the position I was in and so she was going to talk to my instructor and grant me a week's extension. I was relieved and embarrassed. I had cried to mommy and now she was going to fix things for me. Shit!

So, here I sit blogging....bad! I am packing up to hit a coffee shop with my friend to study for the day. I plan on working at the paper tonight after my most functional brain is burned out. This term is a nightmare! I can't wait for it to be over. I can't wait for a fresh start next term. I have said it before and I will continue to say that paramedic school at the University is the hardest thing I have ever done. And with that, I am off.

Fitness Day 88
Running 3.5mi to coffee shop!
Rest day yesteday.

Spring Has Sprung! All Over My Motivation!

It is the very beginning of spring here in the temperate PacNW. I am hearing people talking about their garden starts and their plans to grow big beautiful tomatoes and tall stalks of beans and peas nestled in next to organic heirloom lettuces and broccoli. It makes me say WHAT THE F IS WRONG WITH ME?!!! Why am I not even close to thinking about planting little green things other than my envious thoughts that begin "oh man, I wish..." and end "I don't have time to scratch my ass let alone garden right now!" I feel like my priorities are out of whack or something. I have a best friend who, while in MF-ing MEDICAL school and pregnant as humanly possible had a beautiful make that THE MOST BEAUTIFUL and abundant veggie garden I have seen in a long time. What is wrong with me? My weeks right now look a little something like this (they start on Friday as that is my "Monday")
Friday: Sleep in as long as possible then work 7pm-7am
Saturday: Run 3-4miles home from work then sleep from 9am-5pm, have dinner and go back to work 7pm-7am
Sunday: Run 3-4miles home from work then sleep until 4ish in order to see the hubbs for a while before clinicals 7pm-3am
Monday: Sleep until noon then get up to run and study before clinicals 7pm-3am
Tuesday: See Monday lather rinse repeat... though lately I have been taking Tuesday nights off (shhh don't tell) so I can function Wed.
Wednesday: Up at 5am to be at school by 7am until 4pm. Water aerobics. Pass out around 8pm
Thursday: SLEEP THE FUCK IN! Get up and run then study (we have been making Thursday "date night" for the past few weeks since the hubbs has been off. Last week we met a big group for beer and pool) This is my brightest spot in the whole week!
And now we are back to Friday and it starts all over again!
Do we maybe think that this is why I can't fathom planting things and taking responsibility for weeding and watering and tenderly singing to them? Maybe. Anyway, I feel like I am missing a lot this year. I will be missing the Mt Hood summit class, country fair, watching The Otter grow up, helping my father move, SUMMER! I know why I am here and I know why I am doing all of this I just wish I had more time to plant things and watch them grow. I look forward to the days when I can wake early, after a full night's sleep, and sit on the front step drinking tea and watching the starts grow. For now I will train for my Marathon (yep! MARATHON 26.2Miles) in October, look forward to my wedding in September, and keep my nose to the grindstone until August.

Fitness Day 86
6mile run 11min 40sec pace in forest park with dogs and Hubbs.
Bought books on marathon training
Bought new bra and finally ran free from the feeling of being punched in the boobs for miles on end.

On The Road Again

I am back up and running! I went to see the doctor last week on Friday and he told me he thinks I am still suffering from a sprain of the same tendons and muscles that surround the bone I broke in November. He fitted me with a handful of cuboid pads and sent me on my way free to run, ice and ibuprofen with thoughtful abandon. He also told me that if it was still painful to stop running and come back. I can see how this may seem irritating to some but to me this is evidenced based medicine. This is beautiful. He did a complete foot exam and did not radiate me again. He asked good questions and came up with a very reasonable possible solution. I was, of course frightened that it would not be so simple but after three runs and no pain (while running) I think we may have found ourselves a solution. I am over the moon. I have a renewed desire to run and feel like I want to take on the challenge of another full marathon sooner rather than later. I am ready. I think I can kill my last time and feel a lot better while doing it. I am aiming for Seattle in November. It will be one year from my stumble and break and more than ten years since my first marathon. Seattle is hilly and has its sucky bits but that is just how it goes. Portland is the same way. We have Katie and John in Seattle so it is a reasonable place to go and stay and make a weekend out of it. I am getting all fired up just thinking about it. I will say more about my training plans and life in general as we go along and particularly after I make it through these next two weeks of the term. People keep asking about the wedding planning and I am going nowhere fast with all of that so I have to get back in gear there too. One exhausted step at a time right now. I CAN do this. I think I can I think I can...I will! Ok, off to hit the books...Toxicology papers don't write themselves.

Fitness Day 85
Total weight loss 14lbs
Pant size 14
Yesterday ran 4.5mi at a 9min 45sec pace. Today is a strength training/rest day

WTF?!

I broke my foot in November running the Seattle Half Marathon. I tripped off a curb and felt something icky but kept running...8 more miles...I have been a "big" runner my whole running career and am used to having aches and pains and pushing through them one way or another. I didn't think anything serious was wrong. WRONG! Three days later I was unable to walk at all. I couldn't stand without feeling dizzy, breaking into a sweat and feeling 8/10 pain (10/10 was my IUD). I went to student health and they told me they didn't think it was broken and that I should "stretch it out. GO for a run" I was pretty sure she was full of crap so I came to my hospital and had an x-ray B-R-O-K-E-N! I spent 8 weeks in boot, crutch, post-op shoe hell and the whole time I was swimming and doing water aerobics, eventually I went to the eliptical machine. I was SO good! I did everything the doc told me to and not a thing more. I started working out a little harder with more weight bearing activity about 4 weeks ago, got totally swamped in school and then got SICK. Four days ago I started running again. We went to the woods and ran on the trail. It was Rad! The next day I went running in the city from the hospital after work. My foot hurt. It felt bruised and achy and it only got worse the farther I ran. By the time I got home I didn't want to be standing on it anymore. Ice offered little help and Ibuprofen didn't seem to be cutting the mustard either. I have worked the last two nights and my foot is on fire! I feel like someone ran it over with a truck. I am calling the MD tomorrow morning. I am freaking out inside. What if I broke it again? What if I have a stress fracture?! What if I have to be on crutches again?! WHAT THE FUCK AM I GONNA DO?! I AM GOING TO LOSE MY FRIGGEN MIND!!!
I called my mom hoping she would be able to say SOMETHING, ANYTHING to make me feel better about my pain and my frustration. Nope. Even translating mom speak and her being as understanding and maternal as possible I don't feel better. She gave me a lecture about over doing it and told me to back off and take it easy...blah.. blah...blah. I didn't want to hear that. Anyway, I have decided to call the doctor in the morning. I just want it to be over. I want to go in and have him tell me there is no break, that it is just tissue "pisseed off-ness", maybe hook a girl up with some orthotics and tell me that running is the best medicine. The weather is getting nice, I am getting spring fever and I am NOT going to be a happy girl if I get the no-go on the running. I will keep posted after the phone conversation tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed.

I Am A Runner...Now and Forever

I ran my first Marathon ten years ago. I was seventeen and stubborn as a mule. My brother was 21 and that previous fall I stood by the side of a Detroit road and watched him run the Detroit Marathon. I had sort of chuckled as I watched the thousands of runners and their various paces and body types run by. "I could do a marathon. Doesn't look that hard". My parents sort of craned their heads and looked at me as if I had just seen Flo-jo run by and had challenged her to a race. "Ok, suuure" they said. I was not a runner. I had only ever run because I HAD to for gym class. Oh, yes, and my failed attempt to make friends in my new town in sixth grade by joining the cross country team. It was just the place for the chubby new girl who generally hated running. Anyway, upon returning home from the Detroit race I got on the computer and looked up training plans. I picked a race seven months away and set my sights. I ran and ran and ran. I started out slowly with short distances I would clock by driving them first in my mini-van. As I kept running and the distances got longer I began to find trails and places, some as far as 30min from home, where there were generous shoulders to the road and low traffic volume to run longer distances. My body ached and I still ran slowly. My parents got on board and began riding the bike along side me for my long weekend runs. Ten miles, fifteen miles, eighteen, twenty, twenty-three. My dad would tell me stories about the crazy things he and his gang of brothers did as kids. My mom would tell me about her misbegotten youth as well. It was fun. Rain, snow, discouraging aches and pains. I ran through it all. Spring came and one of my teachers from school who also happened to be a dear family friend also decided to run. It was perfect as my parents had long standing plans to be in France during my race. This was not problematic for me because "you already know what I look like running. And I promise I am going to finish so don't worry. You're not missing anything" was my attitude. Branson was running and so I could go to Traverse City with them and they would bring me home. The day came and the morning was beautiful. The course takes you along Grand Traverse Bay, down this beautiful peninsula. Every inch of the course was beautiful. The race started early and it was cool in the morning but it warmed up through the day and was down right hot by late morning. I was off and running. The dog had eaten just one of my running shoes so I had to order a new pair only 3 weeks before the race and was suffering the consequences of poorly broken in foot wear in the form of bleeding blisters in my arches from about mile eleven on. I kept running though. My brother had been in Costa Rica with a friend and was due back that day but I was very surprised to come over a rise in the course and see him standing out of the sun roof of his champagne colored Honda with sunglasses on and a Gatorade waiting for me. He was in flip flops and chinos but he ran along with me for about a mile. I was about eight miles out and it was clear that I was going to be the very last runner to finish. At this point a van pulls up along side me and a woman informs me that if I would like to get in the van she will take me to the finish line. WHAT?! QUIT?! Are you out of your fucking mind?! I have already run thousands of miles in training and nineteen of them today. I am not getting in that van. "No thanks." I said, "I'm good. I'm gonna keep running." And I did. I kept going. I think I was averaging about 15min/miles at this point. My feet were bleeding and I was sure I was dying inside. My teacher who had finished over an hour ago sent his wife out to find me on the course and Sara ran with me for a while. She was NOT a runner (yet) though now she runs marathons on a very regular basis. She was running next to me and the van lady circled around again. I politely ignored her this time. She informed me that I was going to go over the course time limit of four hours and aid stations were going to be closing up. I kept running. I got to the next aid station and found that all the people there were calling my number and ringing cow bells and cheering for me. At the next aid station someone yelled "Go Anna Hope" and it seems the crowd from the last station had joined this one and they had just two cups poured for me. There were two more stations and at each one the crowd was bigger and more excited. The van lady came by at one point and my brother told her "she's not getting in the van. Stop asking". I finished the race in 5hrs 31min. I averaged ten min/miles for the first eighteen miles and around fifteen min/miles for the rest of it. I finished though. Fifteen minutes after the last runner ahead of me. The most memorable part of the day was not crossing the finish line. It wasn't calling my folks and telling them I made it. The most memorable moment of the whole day and the whole marathon training experience came when Sarah and I were running along the lake, the hot sun on my drained body, Sarah turned to me and said "congratulations, you're a runner. You may never take another step for the rest of your life and you are still a runner." I will never forget that. I remember it all the time when things get tough. I remember that I DID that. Nobody can ever take that away. I am a runner. Broken feet, depression, changes in my body, or my schedule...none of it can take away that simple fact that I am a runner.
Yesterday the hubbs and I went to the woods of Forest Park for a run. I wasn't sure how far or how hard I was going to be able to go between the recent bronchitis and the formerly broken foot. I just wasn't sure. It didn't matter though. Once I got to the forest and let the dog off her leash it was all good. I struggled to get warmed up hacking and wheezing a little for the first fifteen minutes. On the way back I felt so good that I decided to push it a little and lengthened out my stride and picked it up a bit. It felt amazing. The hubbs commented that I had turned up the gas and he was happy to match my new pace. We ran faster than I have run in a very long time for the last mile all the way down the sloping back and forth of the forest. It felt like flying. My stress of the week and the coming weekend melted away. I was running. I hadn't run outside other than once since my injury in November. I was pleased to find everything working just the way it should. A 55min run was no sweat. I am a runner. Today, tomorrow, when I am a hundred years old. I am a runner.

I think I'll just cry about it.

I just got home from my 8 hr clinical shift where I was starting IVs and pushing medications and really getting into it. I have been having the best time ever in the Emeregency Department. I love my co-workers and their helpfulness in teaching me how to do things and how to do them better, I love talking to and helping patients. I love it all. I love starting IVs and I was SURE that was going to be the thing I hated. No, wrong! I hate the school part. I am so unhappy right now. I have never felt so unprepared ALL the freakin time. I feel like last term was hard and this one is Fucking Impossible. Pardon the french but holy shit! They have it piled so high and so deep I feel at times like there is no way to get it all done and they are just testing us to see if we can pick what is important and sacrifice the right stuff. I hate feeling this way. It reminds me of my undergrad when I was always behind for lack of effort until I realized it mattered and then it was too late....this time it just feels like it is too late all the damn time. I am wide awake with excitement from my shift (no, I drank no coffee) and I have a test in about 6 hours. I should have studied my butt off but I was at clinicals and I had three major papers to write this week. There aren't enough hours in the day and I wonder if any of these instructors have a clue what the others are ALSO asking of us?! F!!!!!!! Anyway, I am feeling well at least. I am ready to run again. I need to be working out again. I am aiming to hit up water aerobics tomorrow night but we shall see what time lab gets out. I can't wait for this term to be over but I also wish we had more time for all of this. I just feel like I am chest deep in the ocean and the waves keep coming closer and closer together. It is getting pretty grim in here!

Things That Give Me Wings

I have been sick for the last week. Sick like I have not been in a VERY long time if EVER. I can't remember ever, in my adult life, being so sick that I stayed in bed for an entire week and didn't get cabin fever. That was me last week. I had a bit of the slows on Thursday when the Hubbs was feeling under the weather and we went hiking in the muddy wonderful oregonian february spring. By the end of our night at the soaking pool I was feeling wiped out. I didn't even want to 'do it' and it had been about a week since Hubbs and I had been in the same bed at the same time. The next day I woke up feeling pretty puny and I puttered around before work coughing and feeling scratchy and icky throated. By about half-way through my shift I was wheezing, coughing and sweating. I took a gram of Tylenol and 800mg of Motrin and 3hrs later I had a fever of 101.3. That was enough for my charge nurse (mother of 5). She sent me home and I went quite easily. I was hacking my ass off. I would get really winded and breath fast and hack some more. The next night the Hubbs had to go to work and I was wilty on the sofa watching the olympics (perfect sick day viewing BTW!) I was breathing pretty fast just resting and around midnight I spoke to G and he called a friend of ours who was working in the county and just happened to be in the neighborhood, to come over (in her AMBULANCE)and check me out. I was breathing fast at about 30-40 times a min and my oxygen saturation and CO2 levels were normal. She gave me a nebulizer treatment and then got called out to a "real call". The Hubbs called and told me that he thought if I made it through the night and still felt shitty in the morning that he would take me to the quick care. I knew it was viral. I never once thought it WASN'T viral. I was scared though. I have never had asthma or anything else that would compromise my ability to breathe. I felt a little panicked that I couldn't get enough air all the time for about 4 days. It was worse if I had a coughing fit. There was so much pain with just breathing and it became SO much worse with coughing which I was doing almost constantly. I was MISERABLE. I was living in my shower sucking hot steam and eucaliptys. Sunday we went into the hospital. I was working pretty hard to breathe just walking from the car to the door but I begged the triage nurse to let me go to the "fast track" because I didn't want a full work up for chest pain and I knew that if I went to the main ED some over eager resident would order every test in the whole world and I would end up with an ECG and there was NO FRIGGIN WAY IN HELL that the tech on that day was going to see my boobs! Yep! That's how I felt. Silly or not. I knew I just needed a little chest x-ray to make sure it wasn't pneumonia and some NAR-CO-TICS! I needed to be sedated so I could finally sleep! I got just that. She didn't even offer me antibiotics and that was a good thing because I didn't need them. I needed sleep. Sleep. Sleeeeeep. A little phenergan and codiene later and 4 more days in bed and I am a 70% new woman. I am still coughing and still a little winded with exertion but I feel a lot better. We even did it...twice. Yeah, this may be TMI but G has been such an amaizing sport and has taken SUCH sweet care of me (including calling my mother to tell her about my trip to the doctor and delivering milkshakes and cup-o-noodle to me) he deserved to be jumped. I took my decongestant, took my advil, steamed as much crud as I could out of my lungs before he got home and jumped him. He was so happy both for the booty and for the sign that I was feeling better. I love my husband.

So, needless to say my exercise regiment has been a little non-existant. I did lose 7 pounds in fever and coughing. Next week I will start up with water aerobics and running and see how the lungs do. I am excited to be back in action after what was the longest week in my adult life in bed. I am totally behind in school but hour by hour I catch up and the work I am doing is getting me A's so its gonna be ok. The title image for this week came from the fact that as I sit here at work it was time for my redbull inorder to amp up enough to get through the project I am working on as well as the next 4 hours until morning. As I stared thinking about how I manage to make it from day to day the one constant is G. He makes my life possible right now. Paying bills, cleaning up after me, listening to my crap, bringing me food when I am sick, making me dinner while I study, snuggling me to sleep on the rare night that we are home together for bed and being eternally patient with my bad behavior, my short temper, my distracted mind. He loves me. It makes everything "do-able". He gives me wings. He is my melted cheese all the time. Tonight, as he is sleeping in a snow shelter up on Mt Hood, with the Search and Rescue kids doing snow training I am proud of him and proud to be his wife. He makes me want to try harder, be stronger, do more for other people. He is my inspiration.