OK, so I made it back to Barcelona and cried like a baby the first night home. No wifi. No internet, in fact, as my crappy Vodafone USB modem was not working as usual. No room service, and no giant fluffy pillows. But it was the no elevator part of being home that did me in. Carrying my gear and crap up 4 flights of stairs help exacerbate the pulled muscle in my chest so it not only felt like someone had ripped my heart out, but now also hurt to breathe. I also faced the first night without opiates, and could tell I was fiending. Drugs suck. Called some people I knew I could count on, and they came through, gave me the words of encouragement I needed in a time when all I could do was beat myself up for making such a stupid mistake (the whole riding to Nice in the rain idea, really).
So the next day I noticed I was constantly holding my left “lil’ buddy” (an homage to Zina) in place, so I put on my sports bra and felt better. Went to see a local multilingual Italian orthopedist because I was starting to get nervous like maybe I was having a heart attack or had a broken rib, despite the lack of bruising. He gave me a rigorous regime for my ankle which could also work for my chest and also recommended just wrapping my chest in wide ace bandages.
Which I did, and it works like a charm! So now instead of being small, I get to be super-flat, but hey, it feels good and I can breathe, so that’s all I care about. So now I’m releived it’s only a very pulled muscle, like I had thought. I’ve been doing my best to rest up, stay in bed, only going out for absolute necessities (like to recharge (money, not power) my stupid USB modem, because of course Vodafone won’t let you do that shit online unless you have a Spanish credit card. Grrrr.
So I finished the epic paper from hell, and should be able to finish the easier small paper tonight, which marks my absolute final deliverable for business school. It’s something I sort of dread letting go of, because that means I really and truly need to find a job now. Which is such an unpleasant process. But to give myself a better reason to finish my homework, and because dammit, I came to Spain to be with my people, I am GOING to Valencia tomorrow for World Superbike!!! Even though I will be chillaxin’ at the hotel on Saturday, only going to the track on Sunday and doing as little walking as possible, dammit, I have to go! Must watch Ben Spies kick some more bootay! And be in a lovely hotel again… I won’t be riding there and then to Bilbao as I had previously planned, but I must go, even if it’s on the train. It is my duty as a race fan to make sure those stands are full!