Oh Lordy, troubles so hard.
It's been one of those weeks where the bad news just keeps on coming, really. All of it minor, but when you put it all together it makes for a sucky week, especially when you're fighting in a week.
Sunday - Couldn't train because I hurt my calf muscle
Monday - Still couldn't train because of the calf
Tuesday - Back to training - Hurrah!
Wednesday - Tooth got infected and had to be fixed - no training.
Thursday - Off work, still sick from the tooth, but managed a wee bit exercise
Friday - Back to training - Hurrah!
Saturday - Visiting granny. No training.
Sunday - Training, but not as much as usual. Diagnosed with asthma.
Harsh. Particularly the last one.
I've had the problem a few times that when I'm hitting the pads and I'm really pushing myself I get an audible wheeze and can't breathe - not like being out of breath, much worse. It's been happening more and more after first happening in October and last night I was still feeling tight in the chest so eventually I rang NHS24 and ended up with an appointment at the our of hours clinic.
Now, I've previously had an excellent experience of the out of hours clinic, when I got cellulitis last year, so it's a bit of a shame that I was seen by such an utter cock-jockey last night.
He diagnosed exercised-induced asthma with an oh-so-thorough examination. Involving listening to my lungs with a steth, ...., ...., ....., Oh. Yeah. That was all. he didn't do a peak flow, didn't take my blood pressure, take my pulse, even listen to my heart. He didn't even ask how I felt. He quite clearly desperately wanted to be somewhere else, and oh Lordy it showed.
Dr Cock-Jockey (as I fondly call him) prescribed a Salbutamol inhaler with the following stunningly helpful advice: "I don't know if it'll help, but it can't hurt. My advice would be to exercise less hard". When I explained I compete and I can't just stop if I'm tired, he said he didn't know what else to suggest. I asked him about preventative treatment and he denied any such thing existed when, clearly, it does. Here.
What a wank.
So, this morning I went to see my own G.P. armed with a wealth of information in the hope I'd get a more thorough diagnosis and treatment plan. She was much more helpful, (possibly partly because she had a student), and prescribed a peak flow meter to record how it changes when I've got the wheeze. She also confirmed that there are other drugs I can take if the salbutamol doesn't do the trick and recommended taking it 10 minutes before training as a preventative measure.
I must say, I'm rather chuffed with the Peak Flow thingy, because for a ridiculously competetive person like me, there is nothing like discovering your resting peak flow is off the chart :)