This story’s getting a little old now…

• January:  overhydrate & collapse at Ironman 70.3 and wake up in the medical tent.
• January – March:  walk around with my ankle hanging on the floor.  An MRI diagnoses a non-existent peroneal tendon.
• April:  Peroneal tendon reconstruction & repair surgery.
• May & June:  Foot in the air, in a leg cast.
• July – September:  Intense rehab to get back on track, in order to join the rest of my training team in preparation for IM70.3 in 2014.

That was my year so far.  Then I resigned from my job to start up my own freelance business and focus on my family.  I had clients lined up and they were all eagerly waiting for me to work out my notice period so that I could blind them with my awesomeness from October.

And then…

• 27 September:  We come home after Da Chick’s birthday supper, followed by me spending the rest of the night crying on the bathroom floor and wondering whether I was in labour.
• 29 September:  I host Da Chick’s birthday party, high on pain killers.
• 30 September:  Last day at the office.  Spend the rest of the night curled up on the bathroom floor again.  This time, with a dash of projectile vomiting.  Charming.
• 1 October:  Sick as a dog.  First day of freelance client service and I can hardly see straight.
• 1 October:  Go to the doc. She takes blood and worries about my liver.
• 2 October, am:  About to do a client presentation when the doc calls in a panic and tells me to go home.  “You may have hepatitis.”
• 2 October, pm:  Finally go home.  Busy designing the powerpoint presentation for my memorial service.  Call the doctor and have a cry over my impending doom.
• 2 October, pm:  Doc calls to let me know I don’t have hepatitis, but sends me to hospital for a scan.
• 3 October:  Clients getting nervous.  I’m on deadlines.  And feel like dying.
• 3 October:  Scan at hospital:  I have an infected gallbladder and appear to have passed one or two gallstones.  (I have GALLSTONES??????????????)
• 4 October:  Surgeon advises that my gallbladder comes out asap.  “You may not be so lucky next time.”
• 8 October:  Check in at Constantiaberg for surgery.  I still sign off creative collateral and have a conference call with a client moments before they wheel me into theatre.
• 8 October:  Surgeon calls Da Husband to let him know I am NOT allowed to do a triathlon that weekend, in case I wanted to sneak out (I was planning to).
• 9 October:  Come home.  Have a little cry because I’m no longer gainfully employed and can’t take sick leave.
• 9 – 11 October:  Work
• 12 October:  Miss my friend Lynne’s 50th birthday party because I can hardly walk, sit, cough, stand, laugh, sneeze or talk too loudly.
• 12 October:  Also miss Tri Rock Robben Island <sob>

I won’t lie, this was definitely not how I had envisioned my glorious self-employment debut.

It’s also put me out of training for the rest of the month.  I’m seeing the doc on Friday and hope to get an all-clear to resume my training.

I have a little triathlon in December to train for, after all…

I have learnt some valuable lessons though:

• Don’t consult your calendar to plan surgery around your race days… especially not when your surgeon is within earshot…
• Laparoscopic surgery is not as easy on the body as they tell you.  It felt like I had four c-sections for a whole week!
• Anaesthesiologists are evil.  They’re all like “looking for a vein”… then you look around and admire the operating theatre, look back and ask if they found a vein, only to hear that it’s two hours later and the operation is over.   I could have died, man!
• No.  They can’t do a spot of liposuction while they’re at it.

Pink also had her gallbladder out recently. Except… she makes it look so much more awesome!