Trigeminal Neuralgia

What could possibly be more stressful that attending a sales meeting with a major account? How about developing inexplicable, uncontrollable pain while at said meeting.

After flying half way across the country with my creeper boss, and spending the afternoon walking around LA with him (because apparently I need a babysitter...), I finally head to bed. And being that I have the hotel room all to myself, I am beyond excited to settle in for a snore-free night of sleep. But that was not the case. I was woken up by searing pain in the right side of my face. So random. So painful.

After a restless night of sleep I head into the first day of meetings. My brain is throbbing and the side of my face feels like I am being stabbed or electrocuted. Maybe both. I'm trying so hard to grin and bear it, because this is my first time meeting one of our major lines. 

This pretty much sums up my LA business trip.

W picks me up from the airport Thursday afternoon and we head straight to the ER. An hour later I've been diagnosed with a Trigeminal Neuralgia and have a fist full of drugs to cope with it.


From what I understand, Trigeminal neuralgia is a nerve disorder that causes a stabbing pain in parts of the face. TN is sudden, intense pain in the Trigeminal nerve, the same nerve effected by Bells Palsy,  typically on the right side of the face (check, check, check).  The pain can last a few seconds or a few minutes (check and check). 

In most cases, like mine, there is no known cause of the disorder. An treatment varies greatly. At this point I'm taking an anti-seizure medication and some serious pain meds to get by. 

I guess only time will tell how this effects me on a daily basis.

Crossfit: Week 2

Better late than never, here is the recap of my second week of Crossfit.

Tuesday, being my 5th time at the box, I felt confidant in coming in and starting my warm up. Run 400m, 10 sit ups, 10 push ups, 10 pullups, 10 back extensions, 10 squats. I got this. Dare I even say that pull ups were starting to feel better. Granted, I was still doing jump-ups, but the motion itself felt so much better. Like my muscles knew where to go.

After the warm up we started working on the new skills for the day, which included back squats, wall balls, wall climbs and hand stands. I opted not to attempt a handstand, although I'm fairly certain I can actually do one, because I was really self-conscious. The idea of my shirt creeping up and exposing my flabby, white, muffin top was enough to sideline that. I did, however, try and succeed at the wall climb (basically walking your feet up the wall into a handstand). 

WOD

300m Row

15 Wall Balls

10 Push Ups

5 Pull Ups

While I won't be recruited to a rowing team any time soon, I can hold my own on the rowing machine. If I concentrate, I even have decent form. Wall Balls, are another story. At a whooping 6lbs, I was given the littlest, lightest medicine ball at the box. I'll fully admit that even that felt heavy by the third round, but even more than that, I am still struggling with my squats. Some combination of lack of mobility and lack of strength, makes squatting really hard for me (can any other runners relate??).  Keeping my knees wide and my butt out is haaaard. Jump ups and push ups (from my knees) rounded out the workout. I was really pleased to not be the last to finish. I wasn't first by any means, but came in somewhere in the middle of pack at 12:27.

The biggest upset of the day was learning that Tuesday's instructor, Dori, was teaching her last day for the summer. I really liked Dori's softspoken, yet motivating personality. Plus she is really observant and kind. Great instructor! Turns out, in summer she stays busy with her own Paddlesculpt business...looks like I'll have to check that out this summer, too!!  

Wednesday, despite tired legs and swampy air, I headed out for a short 3m run. It was National Running Day, I couldn't not run. It ended up being my fastest, best run in MONTHS. I came homing feeling pleasantly exhausted and like I was actually making progress. Maybe there's something to this crossfit thing?!

I should back up and mention that at some point Tuesday I noticed that my abs were feeling more than sore. Given the wrong movement,  like a sit up, I was noticing a sharp pain in my right lower ab. Since it didn't consistently bother me, I pretty much ignored it. 

Thursday is when the wheels seemed to completely fall off the track. The day's warm up included 400m run, 10 GHD sit ups, 10 extensions, 10 wall squats, 5 pull ups, 5 broad jumps. On my very first GHD sit up it felt like someone stabbed my in the ab. Sharp, searing, awful pain. Rather than say something, I moved to the floor to do regular sit ups. Still painful, but I did them anyway. Because I'm stubborn and stupid. Broad jumps hurt. Even my jump up pull ups hurts. 

I knew I had pulled or tweaked something, but didn't want to say anything. Skills for the day included ring work, lateral hops and rope climb. On the rings we worked on stability holds, ring dips, ring rows and ring push ups. Let it just suffice to say that all things ring-related are hard, but the push ups are impossible. At this point, even the act of engaging my core to support a movement was becoming unbearable. But I still did my best to keep up, and not say anything.

Oh, the rope. I haven't gone near one of these since like middle school. And it wasn't good then, either. The crossfit claim is that rope climbs have nothing to do with upper body strength, that it's all in the legs. I would argue that if you don't have the strength to hold on to the rope, and I don't, it doesn't matter if your legs can propel you up the rope or not. But I tried. And then settled in Up-Downs instead, which were more than difficult enough for me.

WOD
10 Minuites, on the Minute
3 Back Squats
20 Lateral Hops

Starting at 0. and the top of every minute, meant another round of 3 back squats/20 lateral hops. I kept the weight low on my squats and focused on form because of my squatting difficulties and my sore ab, but holy shit, do lateral hops add up fast.  After only a few rounds I moved from the 12" hurdle to just hopping over a line in the mat. And that was still exhausting.

After everything was done, I decided I should probably ask about my abs and what sort of modifications I should make to let things rest and heal. Jill forbid me from doing any sit ups, and had me try a plank. After less than 10 seconds I had to stop because the pain was back. That's when she said her best, non-medical, advice was full rest for a few days. No running, no crossfit, no anything. I left knowing she was right, but wanting to cry. I had just started to build some momentum and feel like I could actually maybe do crossfit, and now this?

Who seriously pulls their ab msucles?!

The next 48hours were miserable. Coughing hurt. Sitting up was near impossible. Laughing was out of the question. I was waking up every time I rolled over. As much as I wanted to go to crossfit on Saturday I knew the smart decision was to keep resting.


Two steps forward, one step back.

I am cast free!!

I am cast free!! I am cast free!! Oh most wonderful glorious day ever, I am cast free!!

My leg was not nearly as gross as I thought it would be, but I still opted not to take any pictures of the shriveled hairy mess that it was. I did sort of like the faux-hawk I could make with my leg hair... but Wyatt kept getting squeamish, so I got rid of it.

Meet Robo-Boot!

My coworkers are convinced I am transforming into a storm trooper, but I'm not so sure. I think this is just a temporary piece of armor.

Vote!

Steve in a Speedo is sick and twisted man!

Keep that in mind if you click on the link and head to his site. While I totally recommend it, I would definitely not do it while eating, just after eating, if you are thinking about eating....or really if you get queasy at all. Now if you are looking for a way to supplement your diet, click away!

The short of it is that Steve decided to solicit his readers for the Gnarliest Injury stories and photos they have. While my broken arm, skin graft, multi-surgery debacle of 2005 would have been at the front of the pack, I don't have a picture of it!! So I went with my 2008 Pigman wipe-out. Need a refresher? Check out the whole story here http://trikatie.blogspot.com/2008/08/pigman-race-report.html and http://trikatie.blogspot.com/2008/08/pigman-sequel.htm.

So maybe not the "Gnarliest Injury" but just the same, if you love me (or suffered through any of my injuries with me) vote for me!!

My foot is battery powered...but sadly not healed.

Thursday 13

Woah, it's Thursday already and I haven't even finished my post from Monday yet about the Fat Tire Festival.... It will be finished. There are pictures and everything.

But to stay on task...

Thursday 13: The Moving Addition

1. After tonight's trip I'll be prolly 75% out of my apartment! Woot Woot! Now there's just my closet, kitchen essentials, bathroom essentials, bed and tv....ok that still sounds like a lot. Grrr.

2. We went to empty my storage unit in the basement last night to find out a bottle of bleach had spilled on stuff. FML! I don't think it ruined anything important...

3. The "we" I am refering to here is my bestfriend Ryan and I. My deadbeat boyfriend (from this point forward known as the DBB) is in Vegas this week. Yes he is in Vegas the same week I need to move. Granted it's sort of work related, but still, f*ck that!

4. Moving has been further complicated by the fact that the above mentioned DBB moved his stuff in and left boxes everywhere. So to be able to move my stuff I have to rearrange and deal with his stuff. WTF?

5. The DBB did however manage to quasi finish the wood floors before he left for Sin City. All the staples are out, the tack strips are up, and they are clean (to a boy's standard clean). All that's left to do is to add 1/4 round trim around the room to cover up the damage from the tack strips. Oh, and to somehow match the 1/4 round to the floor/trim color...

6. So Monday night, as we were hurriedly moving in the DBB's stuff (yes I helped him) he tried to put stuff in the refrigerator WITHOUT CLEANING IT FIRST!!! ICK ICK ICK!!! What was he thinking?!? So I took on said task, and what did I find in the fridge? Cat hair. Like enough gross black cat hair to think that they were storing cats IN the fridge. I just threw up in my mouth a little thinking about it.

7. Tonight's mission is to move all of the nonperishable foods, misc kitchen odds and ends, and the bathroom non essentials. All in all that's probably 1 trip. THEN it's time to clean the bathroom and kitchen so that I can put that stuff away. It could be a looooooong night.

8. So the house was "move in ready" which basically means it wasn't a complete hovel. It's actually pretty nice. But there are so many things that need to be done to make it "ours." Like the pedestal sink in the bathroom HAS TO GO! Say it with me people, vanity. And painting. Everything is off white. I don't do off white. Give me color!! And seeing as we had to move everything in kind of quick, we didn't get to paint first. Which now means we have to move stuff around, and cover stuff, and basically do things the most difficult way possibly. And the kitchen needs updating....and the gross asbestos linoleum removed. And the cabinets, something about the cabinets. I have some ideas...

9. Oh the basement. Ick. Their definition of 1/2 finished, well, is that they painted the cement block walls. And the 1/4 bath. Yeah, that's going to be walled in and turned into a real 1/2 bath ASAP! Next to that will likely be the bike area. Scary creeper "bar"? GONE!! Cement block walls in the "finished room"? Framed out and actually (gasp!) walls built. The carpet that was pulled upstairs? Laid in the basement. Futon, aka the DBB's former "bed," and his leather chair will make lovely furniture down there. Trainers, yoga balls, tv, stero, check! Hello space to workout. Oh there is so so many things to do....

10. Don't tell my PT, but I have been going sans boot for the moving process. Yes, probably not the brightest idea, but it's just so hard to manuver and accomplish things in that thing. It's no real shock my foot is extra super hurty. That goes hand in hand with not listening to the PT and Dr.

11. I really am crossing my fingers and hoping that this is the last time I move for a really long time.

12. The best part about moving? Definitely the usage of the DBB's Element. Hello XM radio and bumpin' system. I've been so spoiled cruising around town, you know the 4m round trip between the old and new place, rocking out to good tunes. I'm not sure how I will go back to my regular ol' FM radio and stock stereo system. But in the mean time, damn it feels good to be a gansta'...

13. The worst part about moving? Pretty much all of it. This post deserves every CAPITAL LETTER, profanity and exclamation point it has, and then some!!!

Pictures, oh so many pictures, to come!! Stay tuned my friends. If I can't run or bike, I am going to be a lean mean house improving MACHINE!!!

Bleh.

At least once or twice a year my ulcer ends up angry enough to make me think that there is an angry fire breathing alien in my stomach trying to get out that may may actually cause me to a)vomit fire and or b)die. And I wish I could say that this is a result of crazy nights out or too much exotic spicy food, but no no, it's not. It's just me letting stress get the better of me. Anyone who knows me will tell you that it's not that hard to imagine. I kind of border on high strung basket case most of the time. Like one of those annoying yippy cracked out small dogs. It's part of my charm....

I came into work this morning keeled over in pain, promptly forced down a fistful of the chalk deliciousness best known as Tums, and have been slouched in my desk ever since. I have managed to drink enough water that my stomach feels more like embers, less like raging fire but I still feel awful.

And what in the world has my panties so twisted?!?

That's a great question.

This whole apartment renting and moving thing has got me on edge. Especially the time frame we're working with and everything that has to get done. And show my apartment....ick. Don't like it. I showed it to 2 gals last night, both of whom really liked it and turned in applications (yay!) but it's just not that easy. My landlord is being a serious poop about everything and that alone has me worked up. But I'm trying to embrace the good news, that it is hugely unlike I will be paying to for 2 separate living spaces. That's a relief. The rest of it will work itself out, right?

Then there's the whole Ironman thing. It just stinks to not be participating. Sure I've decided to volunteer again this year. I'll definitely be out there cheering all of the amazing athletes on. But it's not the same. I wanted to be out there. Every email I get, every time I hear about, everything, just tears me up!!!

And normally running is my reprieve. After the first mile or so I fall into a mind numbing stride and the rest disappears. But seeing as I am on the no exercise/getting fat list, that is not even an option to burn off my nervous energy. (Did I mention that the fact I am getting fat is stressing me out too?)

It's time to breathe and reboot. And drink a lot of milk...

Why I started Tri-ing...

This post goes out to Little Miss Runner Pants and her epic crash...

Gather round and let me tell you about the 22yr old that was me a handful of years ago.

I graduated spring 2004 from UW and opted to stay in Madison because that's where the love of my life was. We got an apartment, moved in together, and were going to live happily ever after. Sigh...

Well, January 2005 I was out snowboarding, as I do, tearing it up in the terrain park, when things went awry. I came off of a rail looking pretty fly for a chick, landed, cleared the base and lost my balance. I sat back and caught my left wrist wrong on the not so soft snow. SNAP CRACKLE POP! I snapped that wrist clear in half. In the adrenaline of the moment I pulled off my glove, my jacket, and my watch, hoping to minimize the clothing they would have have to cut off. There were no blood or guts, but there was one hell of a deformed wrist. Too dizzy and upset to walk they carted me off to the patrol room.

They splinted me up while we tried to reach my emergency contact: my boyfriend. (Side note: as I stayed in Madison at that point for him I really knew very few people in town and certainly did not have other qualified "in case of emergency" people to call in the area.) Turns out he was shooting darts at the bar and couldn't drive to the hill to pick me up, but would meet me at the hospital. Promise. It was like 7:30-8'ish at this point. At that point I was still part of the Ski Patrol for the hill I was at, so one of the patrol members, Judy (who also happened to be a nurse), drove me into Madison to the UW hospital.

We probably got there around 9 or so. Seeing as I was not bleeding, young or old, or in respiratory distress, they left me in the waiting room for an hour or so. I guess Tuesday nights are busy at the ER. Around 10:30 they moved me from the waiting room to a bed in the hallway of the ER, conveniently located across from the security guard in case I got rowdy, where I sat until almost midnight. Still no boyfriend.

When they took me in for x-rays I decided to put this semi-private space to good use and shed a few layers (I was still sitting my my snowboard pants...). Seeing as my bf was still MIA, Judy helped me change. PS-I definitely mooned the the unsuspecting DR who walked in to the room. Opps. She also had to help me go to the bathroom at some point. Sometime around 11:30 they finally got me a room, and Judy and I moved in there. Not long after my boyfriend FINALLY showed.

The x-rays showed that I had shattered the top of my radius and had a clean break on my ulna,. They tried multiple times to set my arm, but as I had sat for hours and the muscles had contracted so much, and there was so little in tact bone to work with it, it wasn't happening. They even tried putting my arm in an awful traction sort of device to get the muscles to give and allow them to set it. In the end, around 5am or so, they splinted it as best they could and sent me home telling me to call the dr in the morning.

There was no sleep that night, and come 8:30-9am when we couldn't get a hold of the dr back to the ER we went. I was in so much pain. Like nauseous dizzy worst pain of my life, drugs not cutting it, pain. We spent the entire day in the ER again until around 4pm, convinced I was being overly dramatic, they sent in dr to sign off and send me home. That dr, however, noticed something else. Apparently the amount of pain I was in and the loss of feeling in my hand was a bad thing. Really? Shocking.

Next thing I know I am being hauled into emergency surgery. Turns out that I had developed acute compartmental syndrome and the pressure in my arm needed to be reduced STAT! Cut'er open and get in there people! I woke up multiple hours later, still no clue what's going on, but with a pump attached to my arm and external pins holding the bones in place. Wait....wasn't I suppose to be going home because I was faking the pain?!

Thus began my 2wk stay at UW hospital. Midway through this little vacation they hoped that pressure and swelling had been reduced enough to close up my arm. They went in there only to discover it had not and they couldn't close the incision completely. So again, I woke up with things completely different that I was told they would be. And my hip hurt. WTF? I don't remember hurting my hip. Turns out they had to graft skin off of my hip and into my arm to be able to close me up. So not only was I going to have a hideous scar on my arm, but they took the equivalent of a cheese slicer to my hip and left me with a giant painful scar there too. Awesome.

My boyfriend couldn't stay with me so my mom had come up and moved into my hospital room with me. Once she was there I saw my boyfriend one other time. I guess he couldn't miss time at the bar, darts, snowboarding and life in general for lil ol me.

Finally, after 2 painful weeks at UW Hospital, and after 2 surgeries, multiple mishaps, and many many visits from many different med students (I was like the bearded lady at the circus, EVERYONE had to see me) I was sent home. Not only was I still in pain, but I was all sorts of scarred up to boot. I had a 2x4 rectangle of missing skin off of my left hip, decoratively covered by medical cheese cloth stapled to my hip, and a scar from my wrist to elbow. And we're not talking any old scar here. There was a giant, misshapen, bloody, flesh-colored, mesh-like skin graft in there, and more stitches and staples than I could count. I was hideous and not happy.

To add insult to injury, the love of my life boyfriend had let me down! Huge! And now I had to go home to our apartment and cohabitate with this inattentive loser! And yes, this paragraph deserves every exclamation point it has!!!!

I had almost a month on disability to sit at home and think about these sorts of things. It was obvious the bf had to go. But if I broke up with him, who would ever like me again? I was deformed (and getting rapidly chunk-tastic from lack of any sort of activity)! And even if I could find some weirdo with a scar fetish to love me, I certainly never pictured this disgusting grafted monstrosity of an arm in my wedding pictures. More times than I can count I was told that "it would give me character" and "build strength." Well, dammit, I was strong enough and had more than enough character!! And really, who was ever going to want to see me neked again? It was a dark spring that year...

So yeah, we broke up (and lived together for a handful of months that way, talk about adding insult to injury). And as I sat and felt sorry for myself that spring I got progressively more and more out of shape that spring. It was bad. I only felt worse about myself. Now I was deformed AND fat.

What did I do? I signed up for my first triahtlon. My x-boyfriend/roommate laughed at me and thought I was off my rocker, and to be honest I didn't disagree. But I trained and I did it. And in the process I discovered that I was ok. I was ok being single, I was ok with my arm (and hip), I was ok with my life. I was so proud of myself and what I had accomplished, and that in and of itself, made everything worth it. Take THAT x-boyfriend!!

It was sort of a pivotal moment. I learned a lot about myself. But bones and abraisions heal, and scars fade. Sure you'll have a scar (and a story) but the way I see it, that all adds to my general mystique and badass-ness.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I know it's easy for me to sit here, not bloddy not scraped up and my chiclets in tact, feeling relatively ok (except for my broken foot) and say these things. I know what it feels like to say "why me?!?!?" and let's throw in an "it's not fair!!!" for good measure. Yep, been there. I had my own version of that jsut this summer, when in my quest for Ironman this fall I fractured my foot and will not be attempting to race.

Life handed me my ass that spring. It wasn't easy, but I dug deep and got through it. And you will too Little Miss Runner Pants!!

I have enough accessories, thank you very much.

So turns out the potential stress fracture of my right Navicular is the lesser of the concerns with my right foot/ankle.

Upon closer inspection, better known as 35 claustrophobic minutes in the MRI tube, cutie resident Dr Dave found that I have an extra bone in my right foot, an Accessory Navicular. Apparently I am one of the elite 3-5% of the population that has extra bones in their feet or hands.

From what I understand, your Posterior Tibial Tendon runs somewhere from your calf muscles down around and under (or something like that) and usually attaches directly to the Navicualr. In the case of my deformed foot, the Posterior Tibial Tendon attaches to the Accessory Navicular NOT the Navicular.

Under normal use, many people will be none the wiser that they have claw growing out of the side of their foot. Under a lot of strenuous use (running, etc), or given one solid pulled calf muscle or sprain the tendon basically wrenches on the claw creating a major ouch factor.

So what does this mean for the future of my foot? Well the immediate in plan is the boot (see Monday's post) and rest rest rest. Since they are less concerned about a fracture, I don't have to use crutches (we'll call that a small victory), I get to go in tomorrow to get molded for some new custom orthotics, I start PT the beginning of September and I pow-wow with Dr Dave the middle of next month.

Chances are that I will be sliced and diced in the near future to remove to cut back on an accessory or 2. You know, de-clutter. I guess they'll get in there with their fork and knife, much like carving the Thanksgiving turkey, remove my claw and reattach the tendon.

I spose long term that this is a good thing. I'll be less likely to have reoccurring problems and pain. But right now it is just making me a basket case. I am in pain, my plans for the summer have been pretty much destroyed, and I have to see dr's way more frequently that I would like to.

I am trying desperately to take a deep breath and remain calm'ish. But as anyone who has come within 5ft of me these past few days can attest to, I am failing miserably! Just ask Wyatt, he'll tell you about the absolute psycho I've been and how I'm driving him "f'ing nuts." Yes, that's a direct quote.

IronKatie? Not this year.

And if you want to buy me an accessory, how about a new Prada bag or something pretty from Tiffany's?

Info and pictures paraphrased and borrowed from:

http://www.eorthopod.com/public/patient_education/6477/accessory_navicular_problems.html

http://www.footphysicians.com/footankleinfo/Accessory_Navicular_Syndrome.htm

I may not get a shot at a cool IM finisher medal this year, but if it's any consolation I do get to wear this awesome boot for the next 2+ months...

I quit.

All I wanted to do was get on a bike, go for a ride, and have fun. Seriously. No training goal, no pace, no hill repeats, just fun.

Wednesday I decided to head out with a coworker of mine, Julie, for a post work ride. She's speedy lady who takes her riding pretty seriously, but as the plan was to do a loop on the Cap City Trail (a paved ~30m bike path) I was feeling relaxed and excited. That relaxed, excited, fun feeling lasted all of 2m....maybe that.

Coming around a slight bend in the path keeping a nice pace and KA-BLOOEY! Like pistol shot I( suspect the elderly lady up the path thought she was getting shot at) ,my rear tube flatted, exploding the tire off the rim, kicking out the read end of my bike and careening me directly into the pavement. I slide on the top of my helmet a bit, snapped my left cleat in half (I can only assume it happened sometime between my flails to unclip and my foot hitting the pavement), took a healthy gash out my elbow, and road rashed myself up nicely. F*ck that hurt.

Almost in one continuous motion I was back up and pulling my bike off the path. After I realized nothing on me or my bike was broken, my next thought was I cannot change my tire here, there are too many mosquitoes. Seriously, those buggers were vicious. So I schlepped my non-rolling bike probably a 1/4m to the nearest street and proceeded to pace, slap, and scratch while changing my tire. All while blood was running down my arm an leg. Probably my fastest tire change ever.

Tube changed, tire back on, CO2'd up, back on the bike...ish. This is the point I realize I'm not going anywhere. The wheel would sort of go into the dropouts, but not quite. I look down to realize it is bent to the point of hitting the chainstay. AH*&(^#O(*!!!! My hopes of limping my bike back to work and calling it a day where going to be more complicated than anticipated. So now I am left to stand, nay pace, up and down the mosquito infested sidewalk while Julie makes the couple mile trek back to the office to pick up a car.

As soon as I was alone and the adrenaline stopped pumping, I realized not only was I in pain but I had demolished a wheel. And so began the tears. I left Wyatt (who's RAGBRAI'ing it up this week and generally incommunicado) a tearful message which I realized after leaving was a poor decision. Seriously, what good, other than inspiring panic, would my tearful message do? So I followed up that voicemail with a flurry of text messages. Note: there are some times that my phone privileges should be revoked.

The aftermath....I hurt. Kind of a lot. As my usual protest of the medical field goes, I opted out of a trip to the ER. I don't think anything's seriously damaged. Except for the dizzy nauseous headache that won't go away... Oh and there is that bruise in the shape of my PT CPU (which was in my jersey pocket when I landed). I am in need of a new helmet (and am sooo glad I was wearing one), new cleats (somehow in my tumble I snapped one in half, strange) and a new wheel. My poor wheel....

Here's where the bike and I slid on our side.

Here's one of the distinct creases in the rim.

And here is the noticeable S-bend in the rim.

I don't know if I in the PT and the CPU when I went down. I didn't even check that out before boxing up the wheel. Only time will tell.

I'm not able to sleep because every time I move/roll/breath it hurts. I brought myself to tears yesterday when I sneezed. And please do not make me laugh, because, well, that hurts too.

Just another day in paradise...

I am not meant to ride a bike...
There are various other bloody apendages and sore parts to go with the knee. Not to mention a rear wheel that is no more, a snapped cleat (wtf?) and a helmet that should prolly not be used any more.
This is just NOT my season. :(

ROAD BLOCK!

That's right. I have officially come to a training ROAD BLOCK!

After finishing KS I noticed that my right foot and ankle was really sore. Like can't put weight on it sore. I chalked it up post race soreness, iced and elevated and assumed in a day or 2 it would feel much better. After all I didn't remember anything happening to hurt it....

Well a week and a half goes by, still swollen, still sore, still not good. I finally break down and go to my doc. Well, turns out, general med dr know squat about the musco-skeletal system. Without every touching my swollen ankle/foot she decided it was probably something with the ligaments, or maybe the muscles, or something, and just stay off it. what about the fact I can't really put weight on it? It hurts enough to keep me up at night? Oh, well ice and you should start some PT before you do any more training. Right.

Nothing for the pain, no brace of any sort, NO REFERAL TO A DOCTOR WHO KNOWS WHAT THEY ARE DOING?!?!

Needless to say I am looking at find a new, non-useless, all purpose doctor.

Anywho. That was 2 weeks ago. I tried to get in to PT, but couldn't see anyone until the end of July because I'm a new patient and I'm not refered from one of the sports med docs. So I rested, iced and elevated for the rest of that week. I eased my way back into swimming, relatively pain free but low effort and yardage. I've been doing some cycling...which hurts. Especially on longer rides or torquing up hills. And running, well running makes me think my foot's going to EXPLODE!

Last week I did a 2m treadmill run, ~10min/miles jus to see how it would feel. ABout 1/2m in I started to get stabby searing pains. Not good. I iced, elevated, and rested.

Last nigth I decided to say screw it and go for a lil pavement run. I did 3.1m in about 29.30, sp [retty darn slow. And once again, about 1/2m in I thought my foot was goign to fall off. WTF?! I do not need this right now.

I don't know what's wrong with my foot/ankle. My doctor's an idiot. My training is non-existent. I am in trouble....

Thoughts...suggestions...magic cures....give me what you've got?

Like ATR? Where in Madison can I find this and would it help? Is it convered by insurance?
Anyone know of a reputable nice dr that can help me out (and that I can somehow get a referal to)?
Home remedies?
Drugs?

I. AM. DESPERATE!