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
  • 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!

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