Being a good sport

I think that being a good sport is a key life lesson that everyone should experience but that few really take to heart.  It seems to me that everywhere you look these days, there's an overwhelming number of sore losers....and sore winners for that matter.  Nothing seems to be going quite right for anyone these days - the weather is too hot, the summer passed to fast, congressional leaders can't get their act together (ARGH!), and worst of all, people are starving in a famine that has no end in sight. How can you be a good sport when the world keeps throwing these curve balls?

I was hoping to blog last week - Tuesday night actually.  If I had, I would have shared with you my excitement for Cameron's 4 month birthday and my adjustment as I headed back to work full time.  But Tuesday night, I wasn't feeling particularly well and chalked it up to "that time of the month."  When the aches and pains intensified, I began to worry that something bigger was happening.  Quite a collection of bruises littered my arms and legs from the cardiac meds and I even had some purple spots on my tongue (think Dr. Seuss!).... and then I nearly fainted in the kitchen on Wednesday morning.  Since my mom, a nurse, comes to watch Cam on Wednesdays, she was here and called the doctor right away.  Because of my medical history, there was only one thing to do... head to the ER. UGH!

After lots of tests and poking and prodding, it was determined that my syptoms had nothing to do with my heart. HOORAY!!!!!  Oh, what a sigh of relief.  But, I had a cyst that had ruptured and with all the blood thinners/anti-coagulates I'm taking, I had a fair amount of internal bleeding in my abdomen and intestines. FAIL.  It was clear that I'd need to be admitted for observation and had to keep my fingers crossed that surgery wasn't necessary (as if more bleeding was going to help anything.)

Happily, I had about a million doctors tending to my case (a cardiologist, an OB/GYN, an internal medicine doc, along with the ER doc and the hospitalists.... whew).  So, I did get my heart meds reduced to a more tolerable level (and no more coumadin!).  I only had to stay for a couple days and Brian and Cameron spent a whole day with me.  Cameron's been to the hospital to visit every time I've had to go.... and way more times than a baby should ever need to be there.  But, I'm SOOOO glad its me and not him.

So, as I was pondering my latest diagnosis, I began to get angry.  Because, seriously.  I'd like to think I've been a really good sport about everything challenging that's happened over the last few months.  I am enjoying my baby and my family; I have changed my diet and been diligent about rehab; I've tried to see my friends and extended family more and attempted to take comfort in little things.  I have followed all the rules set for me (well, I've bent the cheese rule a bit) and gone to extra lengths to ensure I am being as heart healthy as possible.  I am trying to balance work and life so that I feel successful in my role without sacrificing personal time.

So, why WHY can't things just be normal?!  Why can't a cramp just be a cramp or a bruise just be a bruise?! Or, can there just be no cramps and no bruises?  Can I enjoy spontaneous time with my family that doesn't happen on the telemetry floor at St. Mary's?  I feel like I'm really trying to adapt and the universe keeps throwing little kinks in.  Am I missing something?  I realize that all these things are so insignificant compared to all the craziness going on in the world (helicopters crashing, children starving, hate crimes, etc.)  But this is my reality and it's going to make ME crazy here shortly.

Here's hoping for a normal, boring next few months.... that will hopefully be full of normal, simple things.