Recently, I’ve been reflecting on the intention of the blog.
I wanted to share both a physical and medical challenge that had a profound impact on my life as a way of reaching out to others who may be dealing with similar challenges, and hopefully encourage, support, and empathise with their situation.
The greatest enjoyment I had during training for the Ironman was being part of something, that something being the Telford Triathlon Club. In my experience, being around people drives you on to achieve your goals. I would go as far to say that you should challenge yourself to associate with people who are not like you, who think and act different, and allow yourself to be comfortable in their company.
Being part of Telford Tri Club has been fantastic for me, as someone who doesn't take themselves seriously and loves the crack. I can turn up at training sessions and be mischievous, try to make others laugh, and at the same time get fit and focus on achieving my goal. I must give a big shout out to the coaching staff for putting up with my tomfoolery when they were focused on delivering a program.
However, the most enormous thank you must go out to my fellow triathletes. Graeme, Rich, Chalkie, Jockey, Sarah, Karen, Paul, Sylvia, Wing Commander, Taff, Luke, Chris, and Kev, to name a few, who made the long winter and spring nights on the track, in the lakes, and on the road less soul-destroying and more enjoyable. My biggest suggestion to others thinking about challenging yourselves; share the pain and enjoyment with others!
As the months went by, miles on the bike turned from 20 to 30 miles per session to 70, 80 and then the pinnacle of 112 miles, with no other than my training buddy Mr Richard Bradshaw. After that ride, it did focus one's mind on how much my arse would have to endure on the day!
The swimming followed a similar pattern, starting at 1 km and easily swimming 4 to 5 km towards the end. Like most multi-discipline events, there's always one that is your nemesis, and I think most triathletes would agree that running is the darker side of training. Running 16 to 20 miles on the weekend wasn't my enjoyable pastime. The best piece of advice I could give is to suck it up! Nothing good comes easily.
Returning to that muscle in the middle of your chest, the one that beats and circulates that excellent red oxygenated blood around your body. You know the one. I get conflicted writing this blog telling my story, as it sounds as if I have a life-threatening condition or illness that is as serious as cancer, or something that would reduce my life expectancy. It’s not either of them! It's a condition, that if not treated, would get progressively worse to a point that would have a detrimental impact on my health.
So, back in the hospital with Dr Hothi having carried out all the tests, and the upshot is I have a severe leak to my aortic valve, which will need surgery. It turns out that I have congenital heart disease, and I have a bicuspid valve rather than a tricuspid valve, which one per cent of the population has. The most famous person with this condition would probably be Arnold Schwarzenegger.
After the diagnosis, he hands the baton on to the surgeon Mr Yi. Before seeing Mr Yi, I have to return to see Doctor Jumbo-hotdog-fingers as I haven't had the pleasure of the prostate examination. The best way to explain what happened during this examination is to say I laughed all the way home, reflecting on what happened and the subsequent telephone conversation with my brother that went something like this:
“Hi, Robert, Hope you're well.
I think I've got a slight issue with my heart. However, I had the pleasure of the inevitable prostate investigation which every man of my age has. Did you know that the prostate is shaped like a doughnut? I didn't until the doctor explained it to me as I was lying with my knees close to my chest. He was a kind and considerate gentleman who says he would be as gentle as possible. Every muscle in my body was sprung tight as he suggested that I should relax, easy for him to say.”
I explained to my brother that he the good doctor proceeded with the examination while I sat whimpering. At this point, he asked if it was painful the moment he entered me or touched my prostate. I still laugh, thinking about when “I replied I'm not quite sure. I haven't had many fingers up my bum.”
In fits of laughter, I commented to Robert that at one point, I thought he had both hands up there caressing the doughnut. Needless to say, the examination went fine, and the next port of call would be Mr Yi.
What can I say about Mr Yi?
Coolness personified, and such a groovy surgeon. The meeting with him can only be described as hilarious and heartwarming. When we first met, he asked if I had been experiencing breathing issues for a long time. I looked at him and said, “not really October, maybe since last year?”
His response was different to what I was expecting.
“No, Mr Christie, you have had this issue for many years, you attended a respiratory clinic in 2007.”
I'm now looking at the man who could be carrying out the most critical surgery of my life, and I'm thinking he is either a crackpot or he's got the wrong person. It turns out that it's me who is the crackpot, and he was bang on!
He explains that I've had this condition all my life, and it is now affecting my health. He asked if I had any issues when I was younger at school. My reply was that I wasn't very good at reading and writing and I couldn't get a girlfriend. He looks at me inquisitively and suggests that this may not have been heart-related. I did say I don't take myself seriously.
He then said, in more serious tones, that I had a second issue with my left main artery that was wrapped around my aorta, and that he would like an angiogram carried out to assess if there was any blockage due to the configuration of this artery.
Next stop angiogram followed by open-heart surgery. As always finishing the positive, we complain about her beloved National Health Service, but they are always there for anyone in need.
God bless the NHS!
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