"They will send an ambulance, when I tell them what your symptoms are... Blue lights and sirens..."
I'm at the doctor's office. It's been 45 minutes since I stepped into the office. They have taken my blood pressure, listened to my heart and lungs and taken an ECG. After each test the expression on my doctor's face become more worried. My normal doctor was out of office, so she is just a sub, she probably hoped she would not be facing any serious illnesses today. I bet she is struggling to connect my poor results with the stuff I have told her. Stuff like: "I'm an elite triathlete", "I work out daily" and "I don't even drink or smoke".
"I'm not sure if he needs an ambulance... He looks quite ok to me... yes... no... I will tell him.. goodbye". I'm listening to every word of her conversation with the people, who seem very worried about my health. My substitute doctor was able to cancel the ambulance - I was able to travel the 20 kilometers by train to get to the doctor's office, so why shouldn't I be able to travel the 20k back to get to the hospital? To be safe, she writes a direct number to the ambulance dispatch center and tells me that if I get worse, I should just call them - they are very concerned.
At this point, I'm scared to death. It is Friday. I had taken the day off at work to prepare for the second race of the Danish Short Distance Championship this Sunday. But general fatigue, chest pain and swollen legs made me call the doctor the day before. Now I was on my way to the hospital. A place I had done everything I could to stay away from my entire life. I've never even liked visiting family and friends there - the place just creeps me out.
In the train, I have time to think and call my family to tell them I'm not coming home as planned.
Though it takes less than an hour to get to Amager Hospital, it feels like forever. I'm not sure what I'm more afraid of: The fact that my heart isn't well or the risk of facing one of my deepest fears... needles. Ew!!
It feels wrong to step into the emergency room. I do not belong here. I'm fine.
A nurse looks at me like "you are not sick, what the hell is wrong with you?", but instead of saying that, she places me in a room with a bed and starts asking me why I was sent to her. A doctor comes to take a few more tests. No one seems to know what is wrong with me. It is like the results don't match the things I say.
When I say I'm in pain, the tests say the opposite. When I say I'm fine, the tests show I'm already dead...
After 6 or 7 hours in the emergency room with numerous tests and talks with different doctors and nurses, they decide to hospitalize me for the weekend to monitor me and take more tests. At this point, I'm surprised I'm even alive - feels like they have taken more than the 7 liters of blood a normal human contains....
Five days in the hospital do not make my problems any clearer. "There is something wrong with your heart. But you are not dying", this is all I get. At least they did not take all my blood or remove any organs. Not that I know of, at least.
It takes two months with regular visits to the hospital to find out what is wrong with me. My heart is fatigued. "It is like a strained muscle.. In your heart" as one of the doctors jokingly says.. Haha.. That's funny... Idiot. (My sense of humor might have been affected by all the needles he put in me moments before the joking).
How did it get so far? How did I destroy me own heart?
The doctor was pretty serious about this one. "You work out pretty hard, don't you?".. Yes, that's obvious. "You are pretty ambitious about your studies and career, aren't you?"... Yes, right again... "Do you ever just relax and do nothing?... Silence... "You don't. I can see it in your face"... Silence... But... "You need to relax. You cannot give 100 % in everything you do. You need to relax"... Silence... But I... Silence... "No. You need to stop"... Silence...
So that's how my hobby through the past seven years ended on a hot Friday in July. Two months after my visit to the hospital. 2015 was looking to become the best season of my life, instead it became the last.
What now?
Since May, I have had a lot of time on my hands. Time to reflect and start over again. I'm not sad, disappointed or mad. I have learned a lot from this process. I'm eternally thankful for the friendships and experiences I have gained through triathlon. That is what I will remember.
Lastly, I just want to thank everyone for reading. It's been a pleasure writing for you, I have enjoyed it very much since the day I started. But now it is time to close this book and start a new one. I'm ready to start something new. My goal for 2016: Relax more, do less :)
See you on the other side - life after triathlon is not that bad.
/Simon
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