Good Times to Bad

My departure from bloggy-land for another extended period was at first for a good reason...then for a very bad reason.

Last week, my sister, brother-in-law, 6-month old nephew and mom all came up for a visit. We had a great week of skiing powder, playing with the baby and just spending time together as a family. Mom babysat, allowing Alyson and Dave to ski together for the first time since forever. Luckily, it snowed a bunch for their visit, so Nate and I were able to show them some great skiing out the gates of Jackson Hole.

Unfortunately, booger-baby Asher had a cold all week and by Thursday morning, Alyson, my mom and I were all sick. However, the baby cold morphed in the adults into an particularly evil strand of strep throat. By the time we learned Alyson had strep and a raging fever (and that I probably did too) we had already packed up the car and were enroute to Green River, UT and then Moab to ride bikes. Yes, I had wanted to ride my bike SO BADLY outside that I guess I was in complete denial that I was ill with more than a cold. (In retrospect, not being able to swallow my own saliva was probably a good indicator that this wasn't just a cold.)

A peek with a flashlight into my throat revealed tonsils the size of golf balls, covered in white blotchy spots. Thankfully, a friendly PA called in a script for a Z-pack for me while we were on the road so we could pick it up in Idaho Falls. We ended up at a Super 8 in SLCity, where I spent the evening yelling at Nate to "turn down the heat, turn down the heat!" when it wasn't even on. Yikes. The 102 fever made me a little crazy.

I made the call the next day to keep going to Green River b/c my fever disappeared and I was feeling better. I knew I would be rather ticked off if I had started to feel even better and had called off the trip and ended up sitting on the trainer at home. So, I took the chance that I would continue to improve (I was on antibiotics after all!) and hoped for the best.

What ensued was the "less than ideal" situation. If I had continued to feel better, I would have had a great week of riding. Instead, I got worse and spent most of the time in a sleeping bag, choking down applesauce, chicken soup and a lot of theraflu. The boys, however, had a great time ripping around Chimney Rock on their motos for hours and hours. I haven't seen Nate that happy in a long time and I don't for a second regret going on the trip. If I can't be happy, he at least should be! I couldn't possibly count the number of times the poor guy has stood around and waited for me in lonely feedzones, withstood crappy hotels and sacrificed sleep and riding time to get me out on my bike. Taking this one for the team was something I was happy to do for him, especially because I don't get to return the favor all that often.

So, after 3 days of camping in motoland, we decided to go home and try for Moab another time. Unfortunately, I am on day 5 of a Z-Pack and am not getting any better. I have taken enough tylenol/advil/theraflu/nyquil for a small army and feel reeeeaaaaalllly bad for my liver. Poor thing is working overtime for sure.