Emergency rooms & midnite rides around moonlit lakes.
So I wasn't even sure I wanted to write about this. Partly because I was still a little freaked out and partly because I didn't want anyone to worry about what may turn out to be nothing. But then something else put things in perspective for me. So here goes.
On Wednesday morning I was riding my bike to work like I do most days. About 10 miles in to a 15 mile commute. Just after going over the bridge that separates Saint Paul from Minneapolis is a pretty steep hill. One that always tires me out a little but that I have gone up many times before. That morning it seemed to leave me just a little bit more out of breath than it ever had before. I also started getting some pain in my neck and left shoulder blade. But I made it up the hill, got my second wind, the pain went away and I kept going. About 3 miles later, the pain came back, sharper than before and I very suddenly was having trouble breathing. I went up on a sidewalk, stopped the bike, intending to get off and just rest for a bit.
That is the last thing I remember before someone was standing over me asking if I was ok. I don't even really remember how I responded to that. But it must not have been good. The next thing I really remember is trying to answer a paramedics questions and heading to the hospital.
Seven hours later, after numerous blood draws, several EKGs, 3 nitro sprays (which gave me brutal if short headaches), a GI cocktail (nasty stuff), a stress test (which was surprisingly not a big deal, I'd heard a lot of people complain about how brutal these are. I thought it was a pretty light workout) and several rushed conversations with ER doctors, I left the hospital with no idea of what really happened. All I really knew was that they had ruled out any heart problems (although I will be starting aspirin therapy as a preventive as I have many risk factors for heart disease), as well as lung problems. At one point, one of the doctors cheerfully reported that I did not have a hole in my lung. Although I was happy to hear this, I have to say, that until he mentioned it I had never considered the possibility that my lung had a hole in it. What bothered me is that they really couldn't say what they think might have happened. They speculated that I had some type of muscle strain that might have combined with other factors, such as dehydration, stress or hunger to cause the breathing issues and near loss of consciousness. And the doc seemed convinced that it would most likely be an isolated incident. I was cleared to go back to work the next day and encouraged to continue with the biking but to rest right away if any shortness of breath or pain occurred. All of which sounded fine. Except that I was anxious about riding again. Which was a new experience for me. After other incidents on my bike I was always anxious to get back on it. The time I flipped the bike and landed on my face and wrist I couldn't wait to get the cast off so I could ride again. This time it was different. I was freaked. Scared it would happen again. The next morning I took the bike. But I only rode where I would have walked if I didn't have it. Just to and from the several bus stops that are my only other alternative for my work commute. And I rode slow. I just couldn't get it out of my mind that it could happen again. Maybe while speeding down a hill. Or in the middle of a busy street.
Unfortunately the next day, Friday, I was going to have no choice but to take the bike. I had plans for after work and they would keep me out well after the buses stopped running. And I wasn't about to change my plans. It has been years since I have done any pen and paper role playing and tonight was the start of a new campaign I was really excited about. No way was I missing it. So again I rode slow most of the day, mainly using the bike as a way to or from the bus. Then came the moment of truth. A little after midnight, well after the last bus back to the suburbs. I was going to have to ride back. No big deal I thought though. It was only about 8 miles home. Half my usual commute. Should be a piece of cake.
Or so I thought. The problem was I had never ridden home from that part of the city before. And I was not familiar with the suburbs that ring that part of the city. I got lost. Again and again. At one point I found myself on a pitch black rode in a suburb I had heard of, but never been to, headed the wrong way (not that I knew that at the time) around one of Minnesota's larger lakes. Often riding at a snails pace because I literally could only see a few feet in front of me. And I kept getting lost. I will admit my sense of direction is poor. And even worse without the sun to help me out. It ended up taking me over 6 hours to get home. And I had peddled well over 50 miles. Actually I am convinced that it is a pretty conservative estimate. That is the minimum it could have been based on mapquest. It may have been a lot more. By the time I got home I was exhausted. And really sore.
But in a strange way it had been a good night. I went through some beautiful areas. I saw more deer in one night that I have probably seen over the last 10 years. At one point I was actually surrounded by them. I had stopped to avoid hitting a group of four. And when I stopped, rather than running away, like they usually do, they spread out and started to come closer. I think they thought I might have some food. Anyway, it was pretty cool. I saw a lot of other wildlife too. Chipmunks, bunnies a fox. It was fun. And the ride itself was cathartic. I worked off a lot of stress. But most important it restored some of my confidence on the bike. 6 hours, well over 50 miles, peddling through some areas where the only light was that provided by the moon and the stars. No accidents. No breathing problems. No more pain than I would normally expect. I was ok. Better than ok. I was good. And I felt a weight off my shoulders. For a while all the stupid things went away. All I though about was the moment. It was refreshing.
Even now, as I sit typing, my shoulders stiff and my legs weary, knowing that tomorrow will be the day the pain really hits, I feel good. Better than I have in a long time. It's a nice change.
I may have to get lost more often.
Mood: content
Music: The Kinks - All day and all of the night
______________________________________________________________________________
Sunday May 20th 9:30pm
I watched about half of Rent today. It was better than i expected. Then the DVD stopped working. That kind of sucked.
______________________________________________________________________________
Monday May 21st 8:30 PM
How do people go months without updating? Not the people who disappear for months. People who are here, active and never or rarely update their journals...
I don't see how they do it. Even when I have nothing to say...I have to say something.
So I wasn't even sure I wanted to write about this. Partly because I was still a little freaked out and partly because I didn't want anyone to worry about what may turn out to be nothing. But then something else put things in perspective for me. So here goes.
On Wednesday morning I was riding my bike to work like I do most days. About 10 miles in to a 15 mile commute. Just after going over the bridge that separates Saint Paul from Minneapolis is a pretty steep hill. One that always tires me out a little but that I have gone up many times before. That morning it seemed to leave me just a little bit more out of breath than it ever had before. I also started getting some pain in my neck and left shoulder blade. But I made it up the hill, got my second wind, the pain went away and I kept going. About 3 miles later, the pain came back, sharper than before and I very suddenly was having trouble breathing. I went up on a sidewalk, stopped the bike, intending to get off and just rest for a bit.
That is the last thing I remember before someone was standing over me asking if I was ok. I don't even really remember how I responded to that. But it must not have been good. The next thing I really remember is trying to answer a paramedics questions and heading to the hospital.
Seven hours later, after numerous blood draws, several EKGs, 3 nitro sprays (which gave me brutal if short headaches), a GI cocktail (nasty stuff), a stress test (which was surprisingly not a big deal, I'd heard a lot of people complain about how brutal these are. I thought it was a pretty light workout) and several rushed conversations with ER doctors, I left the hospital with no idea of what really happened. All I really knew was that they had ruled out any heart problems (although I will be starting aspirin therapy as a preventive as I have many risk factors for heart disease), as well as lung problems. At one point, one of the doctors cheerfully reported that I did not have a hole in my lung. Although I was happy to hear this, I have to say, that until he mentioned it I had never considered the possibility that my lung had a hole in it. What bothered me is that they really couldn't say what they think might have happened. They speculated that I had some type of muscle strain that might have combined with other factors, such as dehydration, stress or hunger to cause the breathing issues and near loss of consciousness. And the doc seemed convinced that it would most likely be an isolated incident. I was cleared to go back to work the next day and encouraged to continue with the biking but to rest right away if any shortness of breath or pain occurred. All of which sounded fine. Except that I was anxious about riding again. Which was a new experience for me. After other incidents on my bike I was always anxious to get back on it. The time I flipped the bike and landed on my face and wrist I couldn't wait to get the cast off so I could ride again. This time it was different. I was freaked. Scared it would happen again. The next morning I took the bike. But I only rode where I would have walked if I didn't have it. Just to and from the several bus stops that are my only other alternative for my work commute. And I rode slow. I just couldn't get it out of my mind that it could happen again. Maybe while speeding down a hill. Or in the middle of a busy street.
Unfortunately the next day, Friday, I was going to have no choice but to take the bike. I had plans for after work and they would keep me out well after the buses stopped running. And I wasn't about to change my plans. It has been years since I have done any pen and paper role playing and tonight was the start of a new campaign I was really excited about. No way was I missing it. So again I rode slow most of the day, mainly using the bike as a way to or from the bus. Then came the moment of truth. A little after midnight, well after the last bus back to the suburbs. I was going to have to ride back. No big deal I thought though. It was only about 8 miles home. Half my usual commute. Should be a piece of cake.
Or so I thought. The problem was I had never ridden home from that part of the city before. And I was not familiar with the suburbs that ring that part of the city. I got lost. Again and again. At one point I found myself on a pitch black rode in a suburb I had heard of, but never been to, headed the wrong way (not that I knew that at the time) around one of Minnesota's larger lakes. Often riding at a snails pace because I literally could only see a few feet in front of me. And I kept getting lost. I will admit my sense of direction is poor. And even worse without the sun to help me out. It ended up taking me over 6 hours to get home. And I had peddled well over 50 miles. Actually I am convinced that it is a pretty conservative estimate. That is the minimum it could have been based on mapquest. It may have been a lot more. By the time I got home I was exhausted. And really sore.
But in a strange way it had been a good night. I went through some beautiful areas. I saw more deer in one night that I have probably seen over the last 10 years. At one point I was actually surrounded by them. I had stopped to avoid hitting a group of four. And when I stopped, rather than running away, like they usually do, they spread out and started to come closer. I think they thought I might have some food. Anyway, it was pretty cool. I saw a lot of other wildlife too. Chipmunks, bunnies a fox. It was fun. And the ride itself was cathartic. I worked off a lot of stress. But most important it restored some of my confidence on the bike. 6 hours, well over 50 miles, peddling through some areas where the only light was that provided by the moon and the stars. No accidents. No breathing problems. No more pain than I would normally expect. I was ok. Better than ok. I was good. And I felt a weight off my shoulders. For a while all the stupid things went away. All I though about was the moment. It was refreshing.
Even now, as I sit typing, my shoulders stiff and my legs weary, knowing that tomorrow will be the day the pain really hits, I feel good. Better than I have in a long time. It's a nice change.
I may have to get lost more often.
Mood: content
Music: The Kinks - All day and all of the night
______________________________________________________________________________
Sunday May 20th 9:30pm
I watched about half of Rent today. It was better than i expected. Then the DVD stopped working. That kind of sucked.
______________________________________________________________________________
Monday May 21st 8:30 PM
How do people go months without updating? Not the people who disappear for months. People who are here, active and never or rarely update their journals...
I don't see how they do it. Even when I have nothing to say...I have to say something.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
Thanks for your comment, things are ok on this side of the world. I still have a little thought for her, every day.
To answer to your question, I'm a master at updating every once in a while. I'm here since 2003 and I used to update daily but I lost the faith. In fact in all kind of forums, blogs, etc. But for sure, everyone has something to say!
Take care!