Determined...
I must be really determined. That’s about the most positive perspective I can muster around the idea that I’ve been pushing myself so hard for so long with these invaders literally growing inside my body. They are just as determined to make it as I am.
I’ve been doing my absolute best to not call myself stupid, because whenever I recount stories like when I rode all of unbound without eating because I couldn’t eat or when I finished Oak Glen at Redlands without eating because I couldn’t eat. Or the times I sat at a table for hours slowly forcing myself to eat, or when I puked in my mouth as soon as I showed up to the crit course last year at nationals and found a bush on the back side of the course where no one could see to spit it out in. Or when I puked seven times during the road race and slowed down a bit, but didn’t stop. No… that wasn’t stupid. It was determination, and also very stupid. I puked so often that it was normal. People tried to convince me it was nerves… which maybe I allowed myself to believe just enough to keep going. If I was just nervous, then I wasn’t actually sick, and so, it was fine.
I also think about what would have happened if I did stop. That wouldn’t have necessarily ended in me getting the help I needed. These stupid things would have still been growing in there, and if I wasn’t an elite athlete pushing myself to the limit, I probably would have gone on even longer without noticing.
But what good did noticing do? I went to the doctor, they noticed it too. They said to do nothing. So I did nothing.
Okay. So I’m still a bit angry, and probably will be for a long time. The American healthcare system is one of the most enraging things I can think of. Even calling it a healthcare system feels like a stretch. What’s a better name? Network of educated medical professionals?
Would I have fared better if I weren’t a Black woman? If they knew I “mattered”. Most of the Black women I’ve spoken to about this experience who’d been through something similar seemed generally dejected. They also suggested I also do nothing because it wouldn’t matter anyway. It sounded like someone else had given them similar advice. It makes me so incredibly angry that we live in a place where “do nothing” makes sense to people who should DEFINITELY be doing something.
Why did I have to be so damned determined to be able to exist in a world without constant discomfort in order to finally figure this out?
I’ve gone down a “what if” rabbit hole a trillion times over this.
What if I never started racing? What if I didn’t have immediate success and respond to training so well when I started? What if I didn’t decide I wanted to go pro? What if never pushed through all the tough training days and even tougher races that started or ended in tears? What if I didn’t believe in myself so deeply that I KNEW I could do the thing I’d set out to do? What if I never got the trainee contract? What if I never moved to Spain? What if I wasn’t required to get private healthcare to get a Spanish visa? What if I didn’t find a Gynecologist in Girona who would listen to me?
Yesterday I had my pre-surgery meeting. The doctor basically shamed me for waiting so long. “We normally don’t like to do these surgeries at the limit”. He suggested that another doctor must have told me I needed the surgery, but I chose not to listen. I didn’t bother explaining the American healthcare system. I’m just thrilled I have a surgery date and a confident surgeon who will help me.
As I write this I’m wearing a postpartum abdominal binder to see what it feels like. Its intention is to provide support until I heal enough to my use abs again. The doctor says that should take around 10 days. My procedure will essentially mimic a c-section, but I won’t have a baby when I wake up. I’ll have a scar, and if I’m so blessed, no more god damn baby head-sized fibroids pressing on my bowels and moving my ovaries out of place.
I. Cannot. Wait!
Things I’m going to do to keep from going insane while I wait for surgery:
Keep practicing Spanish
Look for cute high wasted outfits that i’ll probably never buy
Keep making biscuits
Practice ukelele
Try to get up to 6 miles of trail running in one run (that’s like 10k right?)
Be kind to myself.
Therapy
