Upon finishing my first half marathon

This is all about my running so feel free to skim unless that's your thing. I signed up for the Crawlin' Crab 5K over six months ago, but wanted to try to push myself a little bit. I can run a 5K but much further than that and my blood sugar will plummet. I couldn't imagine the rolling suitcase of snacks I would need to take with me for a longer run.

It didn't take much for Kimmie to convince me to sign up for the half marathon in addition to the 5K. It was called the "shell yeah" challenge and I would get a fancy medal if I did both in two days. I convinced myself I had six months, so I could figure it out.

And then Rich got sick. Memorial Day weekend I was only set to run five miles in my training schedule and from that moment hardly any running got done. As the summer wore on, though, I really needed something to bleed stress.

Dan at work convinced me to get a new Garmin watch that had lots of fancy features in it. It was a small fortune which pained me to spend, but I love this watch dearly. Dan (and Curtis) also convinced me to try Galloway's run/walk method to gain distance without the nasty side effect of hypoglycemic death.

And suddenly everything became clear. The reason my blood sugar was tanking was because I was over-exerting myself. My poor heart rate was way too high and that was trashing my everything. So now I run for a minute and walk for 30 seconds. Or sometimes I run for 30 seconds and walk or a minute. It all depends on what I'm trying to accomplish that day. I went from barely being able to finish a 5K, to running 10 miles around my neighborhood with no ill effects.

And this past Sunday, I finished my first half marathon. It took me three hours, seven minutes, and 28 seconds. I totally don't care about my pace because I finished with a blood sugar of 125 and never went low on the entire course. I also have no knee pain at all.

Running is supposed to be about improving your pace, but I don't really care (or at least I don't care very much). That's probably for the best because I was just reading that one can only hope to gain 3-5% in speed over a 16 week training cycle. That would mean my next half marathon would be eight minutes faster over the entire course. That's hard to get excited about. Nevermind that one porta-john stop could add those minutes right back.

So my metrics are all about my heart rate for the moment. I would like my running heart rate to be lower so that I can run for longer. That will improve everything.

I have noticed that my body is responding well to all this running. I have hip muscles now. I think they're called iliopsoas. I also have what I have defined as a "was butt". It might be the tensor fasciae latae but it's that little plum-sized dimple on the outside of your butt when you flex it, where you used to have butt until you flexed it away. I'm no medical professional, so I'm sticking with "was butt" for now. I did find a classical example.

That lady on the right must have just finished a half marathon as well. They all just recently stripped out of their sweaty sports bras and shorts.

As for me, I am continuing my quest for a righteous "was butt", some sculpted hip flexors, and calves you can bounce quarters off of. Oh, and my feet are ridiculously strong now too, which I didn't even know was a thing. I'm doing the Harbor Lights 5K and half marathon on November 22-23 and I also signed up for the Shamrock 8K and half marathon in March. Wish me luck!

A new drug

Last week we got a call from Sarah Cannon Cancer Center that they wanted to see us. We assumed it was a mistake since nothing had really changed. The nurse called back, though, and confirmed that Dr. Bendell in Nashville had been talking with Dr. Lee here at home and they wanted to see if Rich was able to participate in a new trial. We had to bow out of the previous trial because it was an oral medication and Rich has a hole in his digestive track, making it hard to ensure he's actually getting the medication. At our last visit, Dr. Lee had mentioned that he thought they may be able to find a new trial that is an immunotherapy. 

There is new technology these days that helps the body's immune system combat the cancer cells on their own, versus adding chemicals to kill the cancer and hopefully not kill the patient in the process.

The concept is that in addition to be aggressive in their growth, cancer cells also transmit a signal to the immune system to tell the body's immune system that they're legit and don't need to be killed off. It's a Jedi mind trick to tell your body that they are not the droids it is looking for. 

Medical companies have developed a chemical that turns off the Jedi mind trick so that the body finally gets the memo that there are intruders that need annihilating. One of the exciting things about this drug is that in the early trials, even after the drug administration was ceased, the body continued to kill off cancer. 

We have documents for two potential trials that Rich may be able to start within the coming month. These drugs are delivered intravenously, so we don't have to wait for his fistula to heal. It's also good that once the initial test period has passed, the drugs only need to be administered every three weeks or possibly even less often. That is great news in that we won't have to either move to Nashville or fly there weekly to get the drugs. 

Dr. Bendell was ecstatic to see us and was particularly happy to see Rich looking so good. She said that based on everything she had heard from the surgery and aftermath, it was amazing he was walking around. 

We talked about what we think happened back in May that caused so much trouble. Bendell's theory is that when the tumor shrank, it left a cavity in Rich's abdomen. As "nature abhors a vacuum," natural body bacteria filled that space and it allowed a warm, wet space to go gang busters and form an abscess. It wasn't anything necessarily avoidable, just bad luck. 

That infection is removed and we're slowly making progress on healing. After the nurse handed over the paperwork, she said she would be in touch in a few weeks as soon as there was an opening in one of these trials. Rich turned to me and said, "That all sounds very promising." I responded, "Who are you and what did you do with my husband?" He smirked and then I knew it was really him. 

So even Rich is optimistic about all of this, and that's saying something. 

He said, "Based on what they all just said, it sounds like Dr. Shen thought I was going to die." I  told him, "Dr. Shen told me as much when he got out of surgery. I just never told you because I didn't believe him and it didn't seem like helpful information. And look at you, sitting here, not dying." 

Stuck

Things are hard right now. Rich is depressed at his increased fistula output (2400mL yesterday) and it seems to him he will never be able to eat again. It is torturous. Every commercial has food. Every social interaction involves food. Food equals love for most people, so it's as if he is being ostracized from a key part of life.

I am fraying around the edges as this all drags on. I am a single parent in addition to being a nurse. Somewhere in there I'm supposed to be an executive in a software company too. There are days I would rather dig ditches than sit in a conference room and have to use my brain when there is no brain left.

Unfortunately, there is not much help others can offer. No one else can manage Rich's fistula, wound, and IVs. I suppose someone could do our laundry. We already have plenty of food, I just don't have time to eat it until 9pm.

I patched a leak in Rich's pouch this morning three times before we punted and I took him home. I then replaced his pouch and left him on the couch to recover. Just before we went home he said that he was "bordering on despondent" over his lack of apparent healing. I have no answers or solutions for him.

This is big stuff. No pedicure will fix this.

Last night I came home to try to get the pool working again. The cover had shredded over the winter which turned the contents of the pool into a swamp. We drained a lot of it to patch a small hole (I've gotten quite adept at repairing leaks these days). I then refilled the entire pool in anticipation of restarting the pump and hopefully cleaning up the sludge in our pool. It was all ready to go last night, so I walked out and flipped the switch on the pump. Nothing. Just a strained groan.

I walked inside with my head hung low. I was ready to replace the pump. I was ready to take a sledgehammer to the pool. All the work of skimming out algae, scrubbing vinyl, and throwing thousands of gallons of water into this bucket and with the flick of a switch it didn't do any good.

After an hour or so I went back outside to take a picture of the pump so I could write a fitting eulogy for it or perhaps research a solution. When I opened the back door, I found my father gazing into the pool. He thought I was coming out just to see his handy work on the pump plug that he'd replaced with a valve that afternoon. When I told him the pump was broken, he hummed thoughtfully. He crouched down, flipped the switch and heard the groan I was lamenting. He turned it off, waited a few seconds, then jiggled the power switch on and off a few times. The pump whirred to life again.

The pump has sat for a while since it's been offline for almost a year. In that time, it had gotten to a point where the gears were in an awkward place. It's like when you stop your bicycle and the pedal is just behind top center and you can't take off again. Much like that bicycle at the curb and that neglected pump, I've felt like we're stuck. We just need someone or something to reset the switch so we can whir to life again.