Healing, Hospitals, and Helpful Friends

Ok, ok, let me set the record straight. I'm not dead yet, I don't plan on passing on anytime soon, and yes, I still plan on bobsledding this upcoming season!

Although, I will say this: sometimes bad luck really DOES come in threes!

First it was my hamstring. That happened about two and a half weeks ago. Sure, it was something to worry about and physical. What athlete wouldn't be concerned when as you are sprinting you feel a wet "pop" in your thigh mid-way through your stride? Well, I made a semi-graceful collapse (only a few spots of road-rash) and after a few painful days of limping around, I was back on my feet and off to physical therapy. And I thought I was making progress there, as frustratingly slow as it was.

And then came bad luck number two: food poisoning.

Oh man, I may not have been dying (doctor's may disagree) but I sure had moments where I wanted to! Throw in your worse case of the flu with a fever from hell! For about four days I couldn't get any food or drink into my stomach and whatever I did get in ended up coming right back out. It got so bad that I ended up with a nice trip to the hospital for some fluids via IV (and a moron nurse who couldn't get the IV in right! Thanks for ruining BOTH arms lol).

So, bad enough right? I mean, now we're going on two weeks of no leg workouts due to the hamstring and then over half a week of no food and plenty of fever and throwing up. As an athlete, I was getting pretty worried at this point. Heck, I have trouble putting weight on as it is with my metabolism (remember, I'm in a weight-driven sport), and I can just feel my body melting away!

To add insult to injury, after my trip to the hospital I started feeling much better as far as the food poisoning was concerned. But then I started to develop a pain in my chest right about where the sternum ends. I could tell it was right about at the entrance to my stomach, and it got worse and worse. The only thing I can think to describe it as is like heart-burn from hell. It was usually ok until I ate or drank something and the food hit that painful point and BAM, I was on the floor.

After two days of this (because I was stupid to wait two days) I found myself on a late-night ride to a hospital up near Afton, Wyoming where my family's cabin is. This was last Saturday night. I kept wondering if it was going to be one of those small town hospitals where the doctor goes from working on a sick horse to working on you next. Thankfully it wasn't that bad, but he did come to the conclusion that I had torn a part of my stomach due to all the throwing up I had been doing.

So here I find myself, like ten pounds lighter, with a sore stomach and hungry as all get out. Thankfully the medication is helping and each day I'm able to eat a bit more and more. I can't say that I haven't gotten discouraged or frustrated and thrown my hands in the air and shouted...well, I probably can't write some of the things I've shouted. But I'm on the mend and am trying to put together a good fitness plan to get my body back on track as soon as possible. That's the goal.

So thank you everyone who has been praying for me or who drove me to the hospital (Elissa and Don) or expressed their concern and best wishes over the past week and a half.

Don't worry. I'll be behind the steering ropes one way or another. I may not be able to run as fast or as far at first, but I'll be there.