I was bicycling in very cold weather recently, so I was wearing the assortment of layers and accessories necessary when your workout creates a personal wind-chill factor. I work hard during my bike rides, trying to keep my heart rate above 150 for at least a half hour.
Halfway through my ride, I noticed my right eyelid was drooping. I rubbed my eye a little, hoping the sagging would go away with a little massage, but no luck.
I thought about possible causes. I kicked around stroke and Bell's Palsy. I remembered the Ptosis that caused Stallone's drooping lids. I wondered if this was one of those seemingly-unrelated symptoms you have when you have a heart attack, like shooting pains in your arms.
I mulled it over for the rest of my ride and made up my mind to Google the condition and send my doctor a note.
As I was taking off gear, though, the condition went away. A little experimentation revealed that the headband that covers my ears on colder rides was pushing my brow downward, creating a little slack in my eyelid. Cured.
I'm not really surprised by my hypochondria. I've met me, and that's completely consistent with my past experience with myself. What surprises me is my completely nonplused attitude. I didn't react with "OH MY GOD, I'M HAVING A STROKE!", or "IT'S A HEART ATTACK!" My response was "crap. I have to deal with this now."
Ten-year-old me would have mixed feelings. I would have been appalled to learn that I'd grow up to be afraid a simple bike ride would take me down, but I think I'd have had a sense of pride at the manly way I faced that perceived mortal threat.
That's at least a little bit like being Batman, isn't it?
Saturday, December 13, 2014
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