Signed up and paid for my entry to the 2014 Rotorua Marathon this evening. Had to enter tonight while I remembered as after 30 November the entry fee increases by $20. The entry fee is already $109.00, which was one of the reasons I have held off entering any earlier.
Had been dithering over entering ever since flogging myself around the course earlier this year in a somewhat shattered state. Due to our home situation the past few years had seen me totally under prepared and under trained for a marathon event which has meant that instead of suffering for a mere 4 hours or less, I would have to suffer for 5 hours or more. That is a long time of suffering; despite the fact my brain has become used to telling the body that it was born to suffer, it doesn't make the suffering any more tolerable.
Still, when reflecting over the past 4 or 5 years of doing the annual event each one of those years has been memorable for me for one reason or another. Because until this year, Tony was my support person - and up until 2012 he would be supporting me by riding his mountain bike out on the course with the plan of being around to give me moral support and any drinks or nutrition my body may be calling out for somewhere around the 25 kilometre mark. But inevitably, each year, he would totally forget about me, his darling wife being out there waiting for his support - he would assume I had done the marathon enough times that I didn't need any help or assistance and would therefore be somewhere on the bike, anywhere but near me, chatting to old friends he's come across on the sideline or cheering on others he knows who are doing the event.
The number of times he got a bollocking for not being where he was supposed to be was too many to count. It never seemed to bother him - he'd do exactly the same the next year.
In 2012 though he was unable to cycle out on the course as he had recently had yet another brain operation. But sons, Danny, Glenn and Pete drove us both down earlier in the morning in time for me to get to the start line, and they looked after Tony and drove around the course to support. That was the first year in many that I actually had a support team who knew what they were doing and actually supported me. And I can picture Tony there with his head scarf and smiling and being a very happy chap having almost everyone that mattered to him with him for the whole day. We have lovely photos to remember that day by.
Then there was this year, in May; Tony had passed away 7 weeks earlier and although I drove down early in the morning, flogged myself around the course, then drove home the same day - the day proved to be just as memorable due to the fact that I had a whole team of supporters who volunteered to drive me down and support - and true to form, they too buggered off to lunch in Rotorua at the time when I was somewhere around the top end of the lake desperately seeking their welcoming faces.
So, true to form, when they did eventually turn up somewhere in the latter part of the day (about the time I was on the verge of hitting the wall due to lack of sustenance - and I will add that I had already stolen some other poor sods banana that their little wife had been standing on the side line holding for whenever hubbie came past) , they too got one hell of a bollocking for not being where they were supposed to be. They may have had their bellies full, but I gave them all that more a belly full when I saw them.
I can still picture it - Peter with his tail between his legs wondering what the hell had just hit him.
Quite frankly, I did it for effect - I mean, they rather expect me to do something spectacular somewhere throughout the day and as it certainly wasn't going to be a spectacular running time what better than a jolly good Verna bollocking. I had to stay true to form. And it gave me a sense or normalcy. Why break a great tradition?
Then, this next year, in May 2014, Rotorua celebrates the 50th running of the Rotorua 42 kilometre marathon. And I have pondered seriously as to how I am going to get around yet again.
Nothing to do with emotions or still grieving for Tony but all to do with medical hiccups I have been plagued with over the past years.
Knees Up
Three years ago I was up a ladder doing a chore that Tony could no longer do when I jumped off the ladder and landed very badly on the ground. So badly that I twisted my knee underneath my body and heard a crack and felt something go terribly wrong. I soon realised I had not broken my leg but knew I had done some major damage to my knee. I had difficulty standing up.
Over the next couple of months my physiotherapist sent me to a surgeon who recommended operating and assured me that she would repair the damage so that I could return to my much missed Yoga & Pilates and return to jogging and cycling and doing all the things that matter to me.
Many months later it became very obvious that the surgery was ineffective and my knee was in more disrepair post-op than pre-op. At that point she (the surgeon) sent me off for an MRI scan - from which she determined that there was more damage than she had been aware of and that sorry, it was just plain bad luck she wasn't aware of that before the operation, otherwise she could have fixed in.
And of course, the MRI report also determined that at 60 years of age there had to be some arthritis damage which would then mean ACC would not cover the cost of another operation. As the surgeon said, "You'll just have to face the fact you won't be able to do any of those things you used to do - except biking."
I was not a happy lady. Had the surgeon arranged the MRI before the operation, as is usual practise, I would not be in this predicament. What makes it worse is that there is no previous history of arthritis, I had never had any and nor is there any in any other joint in my body. The reports see the age of the patient and inevitably presume arthritis has to be there. It helps get ACC to worm out of covering any future costs.
So, I now have a knee that swells up terribly whenever I do any load bearing exercise. I can no longer complete a full Yoga or Pilates class due to my knee's inability to bend without dreadful pain - and if I know I am to be using it for any length of time I must take extra strong anti-inflammatory tablets to cover the pain.
Broken Heart
And then there is the heart problem. Which has decided to fully engage in being a pain in the.... heart.
Seems I was borne with a heart defect - every now and then it goes into fibrillation. That is, it races, very fast. So fast any ECG machine needle is working overtime to keep up. This defect was discovered well over 20 years ago. I used to almost pass out when racing in events but always presumed everyone almost passed out. Only they didn't, so the heart experts told me when it was discovered.
I was lucky - I never passed out and I was eventually taken into hospital to undergo a procedure to fix the problem.
I skip the long and boring details but the end result is that over a period of 20 years I have undergone the procedure 5 times and each time the heart surgeons have not quite fixed the problem. The last procedure was done 2 years ago. They thought they got it at that time, but alas, they did not.
The effect it has on me is that when I exercise and the heart has to work a little harder to pump the oxygen around my body, it goes bonkers - it beats anywhere between 200 to 280 times a minutes - and most of the time no sports heart rate monitor can pick these beats up - indeed, if one manually takes the pulse it is only going at 30 to 40 beats a minute.
What this means is that no oxygen is being pumped anywhere into my body. If you can imagine what it feels like to be totally depleted of oxygen, that is how I feel most days if I try running, particularly up any mild slope let alone a real hill. Even walking up the stairs in my home from the laundry causes the heart rate to go haywire; by the time I get to the top of the stairs I am exhausted. So I venture downstairs as little as possible, or return back upstairs by going outside the house, walking around to the side of it via only 3 steps and coming in the back door - thus eliminating the breathlessness.
Putting the broken heart and bung knee together ...
and you get one hopelessly handicapped individual.
Getting bumped
The story gets longer - but will shorten it. Early last year the heart surgeons at Auckland Hospital informed me they had developed a new procedure which they considered would finally fix the problem and were very keen to go ahead and perform it on me. Sadly, at the time Tony was not a healthy chap himself and my care giving at this stage was literally 24 hrs, 7 days. There was no way I would contemplate going into hospital for an overnight procedure and leave Tony.
The surgeons were understanding and earlier this year within a few short weeks of Tony passing away they were in contact and began arranging for me to have the procedure.
Long and short of it is - eventually went into Auckland Hospital Cardiac Care ward on Friday 13th September. As directed I arrived at the hospital at 7.30 in the morning and finally at 2.30 pm was wheeled into the theatre to be prepped for the procedure.
Was all prepped for the operation, literally on the operation table, connected up to ECG machines and various other surgical machines, the anesthetist had inserted his two leads to knock me out - 6 nursing staff were in the theatre busying themselves, the 2 anesthetists, the 2 surgeons plus a junior registrar were all set to go when the surgeons were called aside by someone who had come into theatre.
They came back to me full of apologies, but said they could not go ahead with the procedure - which could take anywhere between 2 to 6 hours - because it was Friday afternoon and the "...lab staff are not prepared to work late tonight if the procedure was still under way at 5 pm" - their knock off time.
I am deadly honest with this.
So after all forms of apologies, foot shuffling and clear anger and/or frustration by some of the staff, I literally got myself off the operating table and walked out of the theatre to the day ward. It was most bizarre situation. It was a 'pinch me this cannot be happening' occurrence.
But it was and it did.
There were attempts at reassuring promises that I would be called back at the earliest opportunity to have this procedure finally done.
The earliest I got called back was 3 weeks later. On a Friday again, but they had assured me my procedure would be done first, before anyone else. Get in there at 7 am. Waiting in the waiting area to be sent to the day ward when my cell phone goes. It is the nurse who oversees these procedures, ringing me to tell me not to come in as they could not do my procedure on this day because overnight they had gained 3 priority patients who had to be put ahead of me and my mere procedure. I was bumped off the list. Told to go home.
So I got booked for a third date - two days before that the same nurse rings to tell me not to come in as yet again they have urgent patients who have bumped me off the list. Then finally, only last week they rang to say I would not have my procedure now until 2014 as the cardiac surgeon has gone on holiday and will not be back doing these heart procedures until the new year.
Knee'd heart
Thus, an unnecessarily bunged knee, bunged worse due to surgical incompetence. A bunged heart due to being born and a lot of other people bumping me off. Not a lot going for me at the moment.
Not all is lost
I do manage to swim without heart or knee problems. I can cycle reasonably OK if I manage my knee and the stress some cycling can put it under. I cannot run without pain or later consequences - but I can still sorta run and worry about the joint pain and stiffness the next day.
Which saw me swimming, biking and walk/jogging a triathlon this past Sunday. Not planned as was entered as a team. I was to swim & bike and Young Jason was to do the run - until he became very ill with influenza.
So I fronted at the event and thought, "What the hell, he paid for the entry fee already, was going to do two thirds of it, may as well try the last third and the worst that can happen is I will pull out."
I know my heart well enough now that I can monitor when it plays up - when it's about to flip into fibrillation I stop and walk. When it settles, I slowly jog again.
Back to the marathon
So tonight I have entered the 2014 Rotorua Marathon. Paid the enormous entry fee. Figured that I've done the marathon for 33 years in a row now - why change a bad habit? I've done it on a bad heart for each of those 33 years - it just so happens that it is playing up more in the 33rd year than it did for the first 20.
It will settle sometime. It usually does. I go through periods like now when it throws tantrums all day for weeks or months. Then eventually it settles back to being almost normal, for a while.
But the major, major problem is - who is going to be my support team at the marathon? - cause whoever it is they know that sometime during the marathon day they are going to get the biggest bollocking they will have ever had in their adult life?!
Oh, what the heck, let's see who the brave and bold ones are. I shall keep the blog posted.
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