My 12wbt Round 1 2011 goal

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Where have I been and why chest pain makes for a bitch of a day

Well I am buggared and thats the truth. I can barely keep my eyes open and it is 7am. No blogging for a few days, been working so damn hard and then there was the chest that makes for a bitch of a day (or two).

Friday, not sure if I ate well, it was so long ago but I certainly exercised well and I like that. I didn't go as far but I did go and that makes me always feel like the day will be good. And it had its up and downs but it was inspiring too which led me to a night on the computer making "family strength cards" for my training the next day and it only took me to midnight (eecccckkkkk). Roll into Saturday.

And I am off but not running because there is so much to do when you work on a weekend. Life does not stop and so I got up and houseworked and prepared a little more for my training. I train people to be specialist foster carers, damn fine job people. And after I have trained them, I train them more to be even better carers. One of the most rewarding jobs in the history of mankind but it would be very very cool if my job was not needed, just imagine a world where no child was hurt, abused, neglected or denied their basic rights. Now that would be a world worth living in. But alas, I digress. I did not overeat, I was up and moving, I was high on adrenalin and I was loving my day BUT then it was over and I came home. A headache appeared from no where so pain killers were in order. My shoulders felt tight so my darling daughter massaged my shoulders for about 30minutes (this kid is nine, she is awesome). And I dosed but came too with chest pain, pain that intensified until I couldn't move in my bed. My husband asked if I wanted an ambulance but I was convinced I was going to die by then and I wanted to stay with the children and reassure them I loved them just they way they are. It seemed important and Jason wasn't racing for the phone so I figured he wasn't that worried. Inside me the pain was like a pressure bandage that was get tighter from all angles. Surprisingly after about half an hour the pain began to subside and I slept. I was woken for dinner and with eyes half shut I ate flavourless food from a Chinese shop. I cannot say what the calories were, I can say that I didn't enjoy it and would trade for one of Michelle Bridges amazing Asian recipes any day of the week. I went back to bed, tired, worn out and worried.

Roll into Sunday and I am up and still tired and sore but not letting on because I am back to the housework and back into training the applicants in what it is to provide foster care. I am still loving it and I am ignoring any niggling pain because I am at work and a trainer and I am upbeat when I train. No one wants to be trained by the boring voice of an automaton.

I came home and the pain was still there. Now this cannot be right. I have now not exercised since Friday morning and it is Sunday night and I feel like shit. I telephone 13HEALTH and tell them what is been going on. Next thing I know I have two ambulances 'taking me seriously' and worrying even though I say surely this is just anxiety because I am in the midst of training. Nonetheless I dont feel anxious and I dont understand. Nice one, a night at the hospital, always goes well on an empty stomach. Cause when they say no food or water suddenly you are so thirsty and hungry it hurts.

So the outcome, and I bet you couldn't wait! but I made you anyway because the mark of a good training is to hold their attention to the last minute..........can I swear? yes I believe I can..........fucking chest pain is muscle/skeletal quite possibly from doing push ups, tricep dips and burpees followed by moving furniture. This serioulsy bites! I feel worse about this than a bloody heart attack I think. To not be able to do these exercises until it heals, fuck fuck fuck. Now that my friends is all I have to say on that.

NO I did not get up and run this morning. I am washed out and tired. I am so bloody tired and now to the grocery shopping (or dear is that lifting????? of course it bloody is but you can bet your boots there will be no help from anyone for me because I may not be able to exercise but I still have to look after this family). Lucky me, lucky lucky me.

Does anyone pickup my sense of desperation?

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