Underdog

First things first. (Where else could they go?) We begin Day Five of my battle with what the locals refer to as The Crud, with an update. After finally succumbing to the lure of peaceful sleep I took a swing from the bottle of Nyquill that has been resting in dormancy on my bathroom shelf for, I will guess, five years. The stuff, already difficult to choke down, must have picked up some ABV along the way as it was a tough shot to slug. I was also warned that some of its active ingredients, now enriched and ready for jet engine fuel, did not play well with the anticoagulant prescribed to me by the UW Med Cardiology brain trust. Something about gastro-intestinal bleeding as I recall. Despite this warning and my caving to the discomfort, down the hatch the red slime slid. 

Causing, I suspect, the deep level of anxiety and desperation of my drug-induced dreams. I will summarize by saying that they were no fun. This morning, feeling as if I slept on the tarmac of the trucking lane lane of I-5 South, a careful analysis indicates that it, The Crud, is now on the move. It is in my lungs where it morphs to sludge-like toxic mucus. And seeks release from one of the two most available orifices, nose or mouth. I have no preference, other than for it to cease and desist. Does not this alien entity understand the I have a race a week from tomorrow? I keep hoping that black coffee is the cure and press onward with a progressive overloading of caffeine. And Vitamin C washed with water. No more of that medicated goo. Basta. 

There is the medical update. It, as mentioned, does not bode well for my race. Today will be pivotal, if I get to the zenith, or nadir, however you prefer to view the celestial comparison, my star will rise or fall as a result. I can be ‘as ready as possible’ with five days of positive physical trending. If it lingers any further, the damage will be done and I would be foolish to even attempt a go at it. 

That being the admission du jour, I now debate the line separating my never-say-dye stubbornness with the reality of compromised physicality. I could do further damage. Or it could be a red badge of courage win for the home team, a come-from-behind miracle win for the all-time underdog. A dog that could use a win right now. 

What have I got to lose?