Status Update: Home and De-Clotting!

First of all - let me start off by saying that I LOVE LOVE LOVE Rosemary Mint Shampoo from Aveda. And let's throw in the Rosemary Mint Conditioner as well, because that stuff is also golden. I washed my hair no less than three times while taking one shower, yesterday at home.

Yes, you are reading correctly...AT HOME.

My Sunday July 4th release didn't come to pass. My pesky INR # didn't cooperate the way it was supposed to. Luckily, the next day I got to do my 'Happy Dance' when my number shot up to 2.2. I may have hugged my doctor, but I'm not 100% positive. Sure, I may be on a mega dose of Coumadin (for my body weight)....but no matter. I would rather pump myself full of the stuff and NOT suffer another blood clot to the heart and lungs.

Suffice to say, there will be NO running with scissors for the next few months.

But bottom line: I'm home, I'm getting healthy, and I'm finding creative ways to stay happy.

I know that my life is going to change dramatically over the next few months. But pretty soon, the things that I do on a daily basis that I have to THINK about, will slowly become integrated into my regular schedule.

Example?

Let's just say that I've got a standing order to get my blood drawn.

I know for a fact that my veins rejoiced from NOT having to give blood today. I managed to eek out of blood drawing tomorrow, but my ticket comes up on Thursday. And that's okay...because I know that I won't be able to be comfortable NOT knowing what my INR number is.

Remember that thing? That INR thingy?? Summary: the body's ability to clot blood, as recognized on an international scale. I'm supposed to stay between 2.0 and 3.0 - but diet has a HUGE affect on the counts.

Other bits?

Well - I've begun to wrap my brain around the fact that I'm NOT racing this season. No races. Nada. First thing - it's just not safe. Let's put the shark thing aside - the bruising and contact on the swim, potential for bike crash and bleeding associated with the ride, and then the wear and tear on the run.

And let's not even mention the giant calf-to-groin clot I've still got in my right let. It's NOT gone yet... and I'm still trying to figure out how to function and go through my daily (MODIFIED) routines knowing that another major chunk could break off, travel through my body, and kill me.

There - I said it.

(And 170+ heart rate certainly would NOT help me...higher heart rate = more pressure = more demand for blood = greater likelihood of clot breaking free).

I'm terrified of that.

But every time I think about that, I try to remind myself that TONS of people have taken blood thinners and survived Deep Vein Thrombosis and Pulmonary Embolisms. And that my doctors would NOT have released me if they didn't think I was safe... so for now, I have to trust. Trust the system, trust my doctors, trust the medicine, trust the history of success.

Trust my faith.

Dude - I don't even trust Nathaniel when he drives down the 5. And at least THEN I can yell - oops tell - him to SLOW DOWN. And he usually listens. (Although, I can totally pull the "I survived a major PE, and I refuse to be killed in a car crash due to your reckless driving" card.)

I wish I could yell at my blood clots, "Out! Out damned spot, out I say!" Err - I meant "clot".

OUT! OUT DAMNED CLOTS, OUT I SAY!

But I was thinking about this the other day - and can you tell I've been doing a lot of thinking? - and I finally decided that trusting that I am going to be okay with my medication and doctors, is SORT of like trusting Coach Jen and my training right before the start of a BIG race.

And so far...I've never NOT been ready for a race...so - that's a good thing. Right?

Right.

Absolutely.

Other things have been permeating through my mind as well - and I think any athletically minded person who faces a long layoff from competition, shares these same thoughts. It's the idea that I can stay in shape and NOT race...I don't have to train for something, in order to be healthy...in order to be happy...and I don't need to focus on RACE goals in order to make 2010 a productive year.

As a highly competitive person - this is hard for me. Knowing that I can still be "Marit" without racing, and without training for racing.

I think that my bouts with sinusitis and pneumonia helped prepare me - but I NEVER though it would be for something like this.

But, when I get the clearance to start up with light exercise, it will be more along the lines of walking, easy swimming (NO Masters yet), light hiking, and indoor biking. And...I've reconciled that I'm okay with this. I may not like it, and there will be times when I know I'll feel sad when I see someone running really fast down Pacific Coast Highway - but at the end of the day, racing and triathlon will always be there. And if I give this blood clot an opportunity to break off, I may not.

And I know myself - and I know how tough things got in 2008 after my bike crash when I couldn't race, yet I kept expecting myself to return to top form like nothing had happened. Something did happen - something really REALLY big did happen. And it was silly of me to expect that I could get back on the horse without changing my outlook.

Instead, I grew increasingly depressed, sad, and trapped in a horribly cycle of grief. I was angry - but refused to admit it. The denial was everywhere and with everything that I did. And I bargained with the best of them.

Then again, hindsight is 20-20, and that's one of the many lessons I learned from 2008. I'm not upset or mad about anything that happened that year - because even though bits of it were totally horrible, I emerged on the other a much happier and healthier person. It was very hard, yes - but I learned so much more about ME, and how I work, than I would have had I never gone through it.

I may be able to control how I react and look at a situation, true. On the flip side - sometimes life hands you a steaming turd. And it sucks. Big time.

With this new and unexpected journey in 2010, I KNOW that there will be days that I'm totally bummed. I'll cry, I'll get mad, I'll be pissed - and I'll also be scared. I'm prepared for that and I know it will happen. And anyone who has gone through a very scary thing will probably feel the same way.

Yet, I'll also keep in mind that I'm lucky to be here....so fortunate to tell Nathaniel that I love him, to watch Tabbitha fawn over Kalamata Olives, and Anabelle dance with her favorite purple string. That I'm happy to reach the top of a hill (or mountain - no matter what size), read a great book, enjoy froyo with friends, swap nigiri with Nathaniel, hug my parents, and tell my friends that I love them. And I've said it before, and I'll say it again: everything else is just icing on the proverbial sheet cake.

But I also know myself well enough - to be forgiving of my feelings, and to know that what I'm feeling at that exact moment - is exactly the RIGHT thing. And that I'm doing the best I can with what I have...And that this is the FIRST DVT and PE that I've gone through - and all the emotions and feelings that I'm feeling are NORMAL. Because how could I know otherwise?

Again - long hospital stay = thinking and planning.

Repeat: I'm doing the best that I can with the tools that I have....And everything that I'm feeling is normal because I've never gone through this before, so how could I know otherwise?

So that's the latest and greatest. I'm home. I'm getting healthy. And I'm doing my best to stay happy. And my identity isn't wrapped up in racing or even training at a high level. There is simply so much more there.

This will be a new journey for 2010. A new foray into an unexplored side of my life. As we've already been tossed in, we might as well keep going.

I can't thank everyone enough for all of their love and support. My triathlon friends have been AWESOME. The Gunfighter Gals with hospital visits and a week's worth of delivered dinners, my parents for flying out (and Angela Kidd for helping to make Dad's trip possible), my doctors and nurses, friends, family, Jen - for bing not only the BEST COACH EVER, but also an incredible friend and supporter, Almond butter, Lori my pet sitter (for braving the House Monsters), Darcy for bringing me REGULAR clothes (no flashing people on the hospital ward), Mer - for everything, Karen for the books, and so many more...there are simply too many. And the flowers - I'm in the process of writing thank you cards - so please be patient (I know you are). But please know that your love and support got me through some pretty scary times.

What else can I say? To quote Donna: "I'm De-clotting."

And that, my friends, is the latest and greatest.