I've always been one to follow the rules, listen to my elders, and take my doctor's advice. Doing so has served me well and for all I know I haven't missed out on anything. That's my nature and it's also why what I'm about to do is so hard. I'm about to dis my Dr.
Last week I wrote that I was suffering from a hellacious cold and my doctor have me shot of an anti-inflamatory and enough prescriptions to start my own small infirmary. It's been 5 days of drug induced sleep, cottonmouth, and a pile of tissues piled this high (holding hand way up in the air) and the only things I have to show for it are a sea lion's cough and burning lungs. Ugh!
This morning I met up with my tri-posse at the track for a light two-by-two mile run. The first lap felt fine but during the second lap my chest felt like I sucked in a jalapeno pepper. It burned, my eyes watered, and I started to cough up junk. It sucked so bad I couldn't complete the second two-miles. Not what I would call a real confidence builder four days before an Ironman.
So, a little later I called my doc and made an appointment. I showed up on time. He saw me on time (that's a first) and listened to me breathe and put a little black clothespin gizmo on my finger to measure something about my oxygen levels.
He said, "I don't think you should do an Ironman on Saturday."
"Can you say that again, Jerry (I love calling my doctor by his first name because he's younger than me) it sounded like you said I shouldn't do an Ironman on Saturday."
"Ummm... yeah, that's what I said. Also, I want you to get a chest x-ray before you leave the hospital today."
"Wah, wah, what?!"
"I want to make sure you don't have pneumonia."
"Are you sure, doc? I mean is an x-ray really needed?"
"Yeah. It is."
He sent me away with a bunch more prescriptions and a form to deliver to the radiology clinic down the hallway.
I walked past the clinic, jumped in my car, and made a promise to return to get the x-ray...
... next week.
Tonight I pack for Florida.