Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Old News Now

For no other reason other than life issues has it taken me two weeks to post about an event that was supposed to be one of the most memorable to me and my husband. Unfortunately, our first marathon WAS a most memorable one but, for me anyway, for so many other reasons than the obvious.

We left NC on schedule after a quick, early morning good bye to my folks who had arrived the night before to hold down our fort. That was a Thursday morning. As we drove west, the weather improved and we settled into our seats for the long drive. Our first stop for the night was Memphis where Michael had lovingly made reservations for us for dinner at BB King's and wanted to stroll the famous Beale Street. And this is where it all began...

I'm gonna give the short version and then simply share the pictures below.

I had a headache. Not just a "wow, my head hurts" headache. A pain in my head I can't begin to explain. I didn't tell my husband. I try to enjoy the evening - I wasn't successful. Friday we drive some more and make it to Oklahoma. I've popped pain relievers the entire way every 4 hours. He notices and asks me what's up? I simply say I have a headache. I go through the motions all afternoon/evening Friday and dress for dinner at Toby Keith's where my husband has made reservations. I am in excruciating pain. I don't tell my husband. We hit the first of many stops my husband has on his list of places to see. I am literally falling asleep at the table because my head has simply worn me out. We cancel a show my husband has purchased tickets for earlier so that I can go to the hotel and lay down. I am now popping sudafed and zyrtec - maybe it's allergies/sinuses? Saturday comes and we have an exciting day planned. Expect I wake up to my husband telling me my grandmother (in Maryland) has had a major stroke that morning. Do I get on a plane and head home? Do I stay? After a heart wrenching conversation with my mom, we all agree that I stay and see my trip and adventure through. I try with all I have to get through the day but by 4:00 I simply can't go on...I ask him to take me to an emergency room. I can no longer stand the pain. I was given fluids and Toradol for the pain and the cat scan showed nothing concerning. Maybe stress and worry for the upcoming race? Don't know, don't care, just don't happen again!

We wake up Sunday, race day, to pouring rain, thunder, lightening, wind gusts and my head eased but not feeling well at all! A dull pain still pounding. I run. I am miserable. I am sad. I am worrying about my grandmother. I am guilt-ridden thinking I should've gotten on a plane home. My head is killing me. I am cold. I am soaked to the bone. And then I get the shakes. By mile 20 or 22, can't remember, the shakes are uncontrollable. I slow to a shuffle and finally a complete walk. What a complete disappointment my body has become to me at this point. A big fat let down...I was ready for this. I was prepared. And now I can't run any further. I walk across the finish line completely humiliated and heart broken. It was not the event I had envisioned in my head. Oh, I was glad I finished! I was proud of that I suppose. But I had other plans...my husband, on the other hand, did a beautiful job and I am so proud of him!

Oddly enough, by the end of the day Sunday, my head is feeling much better. But then this funny feeling starts in my gut. Oh joy. Don't pay much attention to it....until...

We make it home Tuesday evening uneventfully and thankfully. I go back to work that Wednesday and my belly is "not right". Friday morning at 4:30 I wake up with a fever of 101. What the hell??? The pain in my gut is unrelentless. Not a belly-ache, not even a feeling like labor pains. More like a knife - stick, stick, stick...oh my lord make it stop. Things moved/happened Sunday morning about 6:30 and by noon that day I was feeling much better.

Monday at work, I shared my experience with the doc I work for. He told me it makes no sense at all but what I described was exactly what a diverticulitis attack sounds like! I don't fit the bill - too young, too good of a diet, too healthy...BUT, it happens!! Too late now, but if it happens again, I'll have a CAT Scan done of my abdomen to see what's going on in there. Really body? Really?? I've taken such good care of you!! And you turn on me!! Ugh!!

I'm feeling much better now and I think I'm back on track. Oklahoma will forever be an experience I won't forget but I've convinced my husband to run another marathon in hopes that one will be the event I still have pictured in my mind!

And the main reason we selected the Run to Remember...see below.




Love him! Club on Beale St. in Memphis



Mural in the gift shop at BB King's Restaurant




Some of the night life



We made it!!



The OK City skyline as we are driving in.




My first time ever being in this line...I was pretty proud.







Toby Keith's Restaurant in OK City. Awesome. Great food!



The OK City National Museum. We toured it Monday morning before leaving.


In case you'd forgotten. The Murah building post bombing.



The wall of victims...notice the box of tissues...Mike and I both needed several...



A cabinet with caps representing all of the rescue teams that came to help.




A photo of one of the search and rescue dogs. Notice his protective booties.




Eventually, the reality of it all does set in.



I sobbed in front of this photo. This officer is overwhelmed, overcome...and he could've been my husband...



I have only vague memories of this horrific event in our history. Unfortunately, I remember more about the trials and conviction than the event. Touring this tastefully mastered museum brought it all to the forefront of my mind and memory. More than anything, the facility focused on how the people of Oklahoma came together during a time of need. Really, how people around the country came together during a time of need. But that's what we do best, right? We rally. We rise to the occasion when we have to.



Because, after all, when it comes right down to it, we really have only each other...



The survivors' tree.





Michael and me.





The field of chairs. One for each victim. The smaller ones are for the children who were murdered. 19 of them. 19.



One end of the reflecting pool. Note the time on the wall - 9:01. It was still quiet then. At the other end of the pool is the same wall, only 9:03 is etched on it. The time the bomb exploded and life as we all knew it changed.




3 comments:

Brandi said...

Finally, a new entry!!! I've been waiting! :) such a good one too <3

Ronalyn said...

Glad you're feeling better AND you got through the trip! I'm sure it (the trip and race) would have been better if you were feeling better, but you did it!

Cathy said...

Joyce, how's your grandmother? I saw Brandi's facebook comment while you were on the road and wondered....wow, so glad you are feeling better and proud of your courage. Go girl!