And then when our health takes a nosedive, we feel as if the world is ending (well it's what it feels like anyway). And as soon as one thing goes, everything seems to.
I'd been on an exercise high, riding the wave of training for the duathlon. But only four days later, I woke up to a neck so sore and stiff I could barely turn it. It got worse throughout the day, and the following day the other side of my neck was sore too. It was pretty unbearable, so I decided to get into the physio. After a fairly hardcore session of acupuncture, I went home sore all over but hopeful that after the weekend, I'd be feeling better.
The next week I struggled along using wheat packs at work to ease the stiffness and went to the osteopath for a couple of sessions. I could tell from the areas he worked on that I was pretty out of kilter in several places, and my neck was just where it was showing up worst.
Fast forward through another week where the pain had eased but was still 'there' and noticeable, and I came down with a nasty headcold and spent the day in bed on the Friday, and had as quiet a weekend as we could manage in our busy household dosed up on Codral and coffee to see me through.
The cold was feeling loads better by Monday morning so I headed back to work. About 10am I got a strange pain in my left side at the bottom of my ribs. I put it down to some weird kind of indigestion and battled through it, in the end taking a couple of Mylanta tablets and it seemed to ease.
The next day, the same thing at around the same time. Hard to put my finger on but it felt like a cross between a bad stitch like you'd get from running and something inflamed inside. So I took a couple of painkillers and it eventually went away. But it was strange enough and painful enough to decide to go and see the doctor late on Wednesday - and sure enough it happened again on Wednesday morning but eventually went away after a few hours. Painful enough to make it not that easy to concentrate on work while the pain was bad though.
At the appointment, the doctor was a bit puzzled, mentioning maybe kidneys or pleurisy (I was like what the heck is pleurisy!) and sent me off for a blood and urine test last thing on Wednesday. The results came back on Thursday but weren't conclusive showing up some possible inflammation or infection but not enough to get a full diagnosis. At one stage he also mentioned 'possible blood clot on the lungs' which I wasn't thrilled to hear. So he said he wanted to see me again on Friday morning. On Wednesday and Thursday night I'd also had another episode of pain around dinnertime, managed by heat packs and Panadol.
On Friday morning, even driving in to work I could feel another episode coming on but deliberately didn't take anything to help with it so the doctor could see it at its worst. At the appointment we did another urine sample, which he thought looked more positive for 'something' and sent it off to the lab. He also thought I should do an ultrasound and x-ray to rule out some other things he was considering like kidney stones.
He gave me a prescription for strong antiflammatories and antibiotics (in case it was infection) to take in the meantime, and I duly drove out to Lower Hutt to get the scans done there and then since that was the only free appointment for several days and with the weekend in between I didn't fancy taking my chances that the antibiotics and anti-inflammatories didn't help ease or solve the problem.
As well as feeling pretty uncomfortable from the side pain I also had to fast from food/drink, then scull a litre of water before the ultrasound. So I wasn't able to have any anti-inflammatories or antibiotics until later in the afternoon, by which time I was pretty over the day in general.
But the anti-inflammatories definitely helped and I had an almost normal day on Saturday. Which was a good thing as we had my mum and dad down for the weekend and a trip to the circus planned with the boys.
I say 'almost normal' as I managed to chip one of my front teeth pretty badly on some popcorn at the circus, and I now face a trip to the dentist to try and see if he can repair it, as it is very rough and my tongue can't stop touching it. I think years of opening my drink bottle with my teeth have probably been the cause of this and I am kicking myself now. Mark's been calling me a pirate and saying 'oo arr' since, in between reminding me that my new nickname should be 'fall apart Freda' and joking that he's very tempted to trade me in for a newer, younger, fitter model.
But then to top it off on Sunday night, the symptoms shifted to terrible heartburn and reflux that even a trip out to after hours pharmacy to get the strongest Gaviscon I could find hasn't really helped.
I feel a bit like I might need to call House (you know the crazy, genius doctor on TV) and get him to figure out what the heck is going on.
So the upshot of all this is...I'm not sure. It's not meant to be a pity Meg party, but I'm just being real here people. I'm not a patient patient, and I know (despite how much I take it for granted) how fab it feels when you are well and on top of your game, so that being really sub-par is pretty sucky. Although I know I have nothing to complain about in the scheme of things, I'm not living with a terminal illness or a lifelong debilitating medical condition like some people have to deal with, and for that I am truly grateful.
I do try to ensure that for the most part blog is about the positive - exploring the beauty in life, the things I'm loving, and turning our hand to crafting and making amongst the mayhem of life with 2 beautiful young boys. But it'd be a very one-sided affair if we never let you in to the other side of life. The side of life that does sometimes suck big fat kumaras and you just have to suck it up and get on with it.
Anyway, I hope to have some better news or feel better this week. And if you made it this far...thanks for listening!