May 2006 - The initial signs

The very first blog entry last August gives a brief history of Robin's medical journey. In retrospect she actually began having issues in the Winter of 2006. She had been having stomach pains that were not responding to conventional medications (e.g. the little purple pill). She really disliked going to the doctor and taking any type of medication, so things had to be pretty uncomfortable for her to have sought out treatment. At any rate, things began to escalate in May 2006.

We had spent Labor Day weekend in Montreal in order to participate in an organized bike ride with a few thousand other cyclists. We got a late start on the ride and then within a few hundred yards of the start Robin blew out both her tires going over railroad tracks. A few minutes later another couple came by and one of them also blew out both his tires on the same spot. No one around here spoke English, though I knew enough French to understand the other fellow's swearing and comments of frustration including the words mon dieu (my god!).

No worries, we took our time, patched up Robin's tires and were on our way. The late start and the delay of the flat tires ensured that we would be biking through the countryside (an hour outside of Montreal) by ourselves - except for that other couple who passed us about thirty minutes into the ride.

I had to adjust my sense of perspective as we biked through the flat farmlands. While upstate New York has lots of farm fields, the fields in Canada were many times larger. In the Canadian fields a far away tractor looked liked a tiny toy and was so distant that we couldn't hear any sound that it generated. Biking on the country roads was extremely peaceful. There were no sounds from cars, airplanes, or even birds. So here we were - we hadn't worried about the dual flat tires, and now we were actually benefiting from getting such a late start!

Over time we slowly began to catch up to other riders. We met a young couple from Montreal who spoke impeccable English. I asked if the entire ride was as flat as this portion near the St. Lawrence river and they replied that they didn't recall many hills from the prior year. What we didn't know at the time was that the route changes each year - an hour ahead would be a surprising series of long, steep of climbs to a mountaintop - about eight miles of climbing in total. As it turns out the route map did document the series of climbs, but we didn't quite have a clue since everything on the map (distances and altitudes) was in metric.

So it was that we found ourselves at the thirty mile mark continually encountering longer and steeper hills, occasionally referencing the ride map and trying to guess how close we were to finally reaching the summit. The route was so arduous that many bicyclists were dismounting and walking up the long hills. I've never seen so many hundreds of bikers walking their bikes before! We even saw an unlucky fellow pushing a tandem bicycle up a hill, his riding partner evidently too weak (or frustrated) to assist.

As luck would have it we'd trained sufficiently that we wouldn't have to walk our bikes, but the last few miles to the top were a constant struggle. Though I'd occasionally get ahead of Robin, I would turn off on side streets and into driveways until she would catch up and then I'd offer words of encouragement as if we were teammates doing the Tour de France together! :)

After a seemingly endless series of rises we finally made the summit and declared a rest stop! There were refreshments at the top and a rest area at a church which stood here alone. At first it seemed that we had made a great achievement and that we would take the time to celebrate, however Robin no longer looked so healthy. She got off her bike slowly and sat in the grass. Well, no worries, it was a long climb from which to recover. As we cooled off I began to find that she really was having trouble holding a conversation. I let her rest while I scouted out the facilities, looked for emergency help (in case we needed it), and refilled our water bottles.

When I returned she hadn't improved. There were gnats flying around and she was no longer shooing off the ones which landed on her. Hmmm…this wasn’t good. I helped her move to a spot a little higher in the grass where the breeze would help keep the bugs at bay. Twenty minutes later she continued to insist that she would be fine but her energy was still lackluster.

After nineteen years of learning to work together to solve problems, I remember thinking to myself that when we got home Robin was going to need to start seeing specialists to help figure out what was going on. There was no point in raising the issue with her, *it was decided*. After all our years together, it felt odd to be making a unilateral decision pertaining to her healthcare.

Eventually we took refuge from the cool breeze inside the church basement. When she could tolerate it I rubbed her legs and then gently rubbed her back while she lay with her head in my lap. About an hour later she had recovered to the point that she wanted to continue the ride.

Memorial Day Weekend 2006 - Montreal, Canada