The Hits Just Keep On Coming........

Distance trained so far (23.7 miles)
I never for a second thought that this would be easy, but someone somewhere has a whole toolbox full of spanners that they seem to hugely enjoy chucking into my works. I confess I had a rare moment of surrender to anger, and self-pity; thankfully I am pleased to report that in addition to the rarity, it was also relatively short-lived........

As you know, free weekends are things that don't come along too often. As a result I had lots of plans for stuff to do. Gym - naturally - getting some new glasses sorted and getting stuck in to the back yard to prep for the coming Summer's veggie growing (tomatoes, spinach, potatoes and fruit......yes, you heard me.........FRUIT!) were the main tasks ahead and I was really looking forward to it. 48 hours of sorting out my own stuff instead of someone else's! Saturday morning started okay, then....yep, you guessed it.....best laid plans and all that...... The only positive thing about the rest of the day was getting home from the Manchester Royal Infirmary just in time for Match of the Day.......

First of all, don't worry; I am by and large (make that not so large) fit and well. It began at the inevitable pre-new glasses eye test. Usually these are simply routine, but when the optician started to dwell far too long when doing the 'shine a light in your eye so I can see the squidgy bits' test (that is actually what it's called too!), even I started to suspect that all was not well.
She explained that she saw evidence of 'retinal tearing' (that's 'rip' tearing, not 'boo-hoo' tearing) which could conceivably result in retinal detachment and loss of sight; she stated that I needed to go to the Manchester Royal immediately (oh good, so nothing too urgent then...!). With a look of beseeching regret in her eyes she then told me there was an approximate 5 hour wait to see an opthlam, an oplthamol, an eye doctor. Oh, and for the clincher, as the eye drops you get given make your eyes go blurry I couldn't drive and would have to go accompanied.
To say I was cheesed off would be something of an understatement. The plans for the day were effectively scuppered, I felt majorly guilty about having to drag my sister with me (she also had a free weekend for a change), and on top of that was the worry of what might end up happening; the range of outcomes being either 'nothing' or 'go blind' (hmmmm, tough choice). I had what my sister refers to as an 'emotional vomit'. No tears, just utter frustration at having such bad luck. It is true that for quite some time now, any good things that happen to me are as the result of hard, hard graft and determination, and when I depend on the randomness of life (fate, call it what you will) I get clobbered. I just felt it was unfair that a man trying to do something miraculous (possibly in my opinion only!) is beset by more problems endangering his health, and resolve to succeed.
Vomit over, practicality dominates. Fortunately Clare (sister) accompanied me to the opticians to give me her judgement on the new glasses (guilty though I felt, big shout out to her for her help) so we had a brief bit of fun juggling cars around (ensuring that my car was at my house when it was all done and dusted) and she came with me to the hospital; an establishment which for the record I am thoroughly sick of seeing the insides of. As it turned out, the tear wasn't a tear and I was allowed to go home (heaving a sigh of relief). I've got a couple of routine tests in about 8 weeks, but nothing to get into a twist over.
All in all, not a great day in the history of....me.....but like so many adversities that block our way, we can gripe about it, moan about it and feel sorry for ourselves; at the end of the day the barrier will still be there, so we may as well get on with getting round it. I really hope that there aren't too many of these extra special 'surprises' in store for me over the next fourteen months, but I know it is adversities like these which will make victory all the more sweet. Running down the mall in a years time and flashing back over the two years that have gone by (if you can understand that!), I will of course dwell on the good times (the weight losses, the messages of encouragement from blog readers, and just feeling good!) but it will be recollection of the difficult times conquered which will be the true measure of my success.