But somehow drama just keeps happening despite all my best plans.
Yesterday started out the way all Tuesdays start out - with a speed session and breakfast with friends. And then the drama kicked in.
Iven was supposed to get a CT scan of his back so that was the first order of the day. He'd hardly slept again with the pain - his third almost-sleepless night - and he was incredibly uncomfortable. I had no idea how he was going to get downstairs to the car, let alone be able to sit through the five minute drive to get to his appointment. But he gritted his teeth and leant on a walking stick and slowly made his way down the steps and just lay on the back seat.
He was taken in almost straight away and the scan took no time so we were back in the car and back home within thirty minutes. Then we had to repeat the process in the afternoon to the GP to get the result from the scan. And the news was not good.
Surgery! That really wasn't what I was expecting to hear. The worst possible outcome with the worst possible timing. I'm supposed to be running a marathon in just five days. My plans were to have a quiet week, enjoy the taper, carb load towards the end of the week, try not to freak out about flying down to Melbourne, get on the start line, run for a few hours and end up with a nice, shiny medal. Nowhere in there did I factor in taking my husband on multiple medical visits, putting him in an ambulance and making a hospital my second home.
Honestly the only way I could describe the feeling is deflated. If my husband has surgery there's no way I go to Melbourne. Even if he tells me to. Which he did. Because he's like that - self-sacrificing. And kind. And he's seen just how much hard work I've done over the last few months and knows how much this means to me. But it's a no-brainer. There are always other marathons.
After he left in the ambulance I texted all the boys to let them know what was happening. #1 son Sam has been doing his prac work at the hospital that Iven was being taken to so he let me know that he'd hang around till the ambulance arrived then go sit with him till I got there. I packed up a bag with anything that I thought Iven might need then headed out.
I arrived just in time for Iven to be discharged. No surgery after all. Apparently they prefer not to because of the high risk of complications which may actually be worse than the initial problem. But they were able to give him a shot of a much stronger pain killer and a prescription that was more effective than what the GP had initially given him.
Iven slept last night for the first time in days and has been a lot happier all day. He's managed to get around a bit more - he's still spending most of the day on his back but he can move from one room to the next without the agony of yesterday. It's going to be a long process but he should start to improve in the next 2-4 weeks.
And for me, Melbourne is back on. And I can leave knowing that he's comfortable and will be looked after by his loving eldest and youngest sons. Not the middle one because the middle one and his girlfriend will be keeping his slightly crazy mum company and getting her to the start line on Sunday.
But despite yesterday being just so awful in parts it had its silver lining. It was a reminder again of just how wonderful my friends and family are. A few texts and a Facebook update were all that was needed to get support from everywhere. I even got the offer of a dinner to be delivered to the hospital from one of the most awesome people I know. And today Coach Chris was over with chocolate for the invalid and the invalid's carer.
I guess the other good thing about all the drama is that it's been a huge distraction from my pre-race (pre-flight) nerves. Nothing like a good dose of perspective to keep you grounded.
|Iven performing his husbandly duties pre-back pain.