It wasn't the news of pending surgery that rendered me incoherent with tears in my doctor's office. Rather it was the following exchange:
Me: Would it be stupid for me to swim in the lake with this hole in my ear?
Doctor: In a word: Yes.
Fortunately for me, my wonderful husband was able to speak and tell the doctor about the triathlon. And the good doctor listened, understood what I was feeling, and offered a plan to minimize risk.
I spent most of the day wondering whether I should still participate in the triathlon. In addition to positive anticipation, I've had the nervousness that goes into such an event; if you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you know all about that. So here I was with a perfect excuse: no one would blame me for not competing if I had a real medical reason.
Last night I picked up my packet (my first race number!!!) and stuck around for a little introductory session. I met some fellow racers (Am I their fellow racer? Am I a racer?) and checked out the start line, the transition area, and the finish line (which made me well up all over again). And any of the anxiety I'd been feeling about the event drifted away as if on an outgoing tide.
On Sunday I'm going to follow my doctor's precautionary plan. On Sunday I'm going to become a triathlete. J
~Karin
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