For those interested in hearing the story in a little more detail, I started to get a swelling in the lymph node in my neck somewhere in the vicinity of New Mexico. It was minor until I got to Austin and couldn't help but notice the lemon sized lump protruding from my neck. I just assumed (and the internet agreed) that it was an after effect of the strep. But, when I woke up two days ago and not only had the swelling not gone down, but it was accompanied with a swollen red throat I decided I'd better find a walk in clinic. After a handful of tests the worst possible result came back: positive for mono. The doctor said that normally treatment is lots of fluids and bed rest, but that's not exactly something I am capable of at the moment. At first I just laughed about it, unable to believe my luck. I decided the best plan would be to get home as quickly as possible and hop on the first interstate heading north, effectively cancelling the last week and a half of the trip. I could only hope that I could make it close to home before the worst symptoms kicked in. However, when the time finally came to hop on I-65 in Alabama I can only describe it as heartbreaking. I wanted so badly to see the beaches of the gulf coast, and I had lined up two really awesome couch surfing hosts followed by a weekend of catching up with friends in various cities up the East coast. Not to mention, I had been looking forward to riding the Blue Ridge Parkway through the Appalachian mountains all trip. I think that was just too much for me to handle, which is why I decided to say "fuck mono" (sorry for the cursing), and turned the bike back Eastward. The fact of the matter is it has been two days and the worst symptoms are yet to show up. No loss of appetite, no nausea, no painful or enlarged spleen, no more fatigue than is standard after 8 hours on the bike. Honestly, the worst thing I had to endure (other than this friggin lump on the side of my neck) was the depression and anger over cutting the trip short, and that went away as soon as I got things back on track.I can't really explain it, but finishing the trip as planned, or rather, as closely to planned as possible, felt like the only option. I'm still pissed off that I may never have a chance to motorcycle through Savannah or camp on the gulf coast, but I just have to chalk that up to bad luck now.
Anyway, so the current plan is to finish up the Blue Ridge Parkway the next two days, which has been gorgeous so far, ultimately dumping me off in DC by Thursday. Then its on to see some old friends who hopefully won't turn me away due to my "condition" (although, honestly who could blame them if they did), then one last push to Connecticut to be poked and prodded by Doctors. Oh, and that reminds me of the thing that really aggravates me the most. I've been wanting so badly to hang out with my nephew who is finally crawling, and I'm probably going to be put in quarantine instead. I just can't catch a break. Oh well. Here are some nice pictures of the majestic smokey mountains to take my mind off of it.
Well, it turns out that my helmet camera must have turned on in my bag overnight because now instead of having some amazing pictures of the smokey mountains I have roughly 8,000 pictures of blackness. I swear things are just going to keep getting worse before they get better. At least I did stop to take a couple of shots with my handheld camera, so, here you go.
The rolling smokeys
A little comic relief. Q: What do you get from riding through abundant sunshine in the desert on a motorcycle? A: Some sweet glove tan lines.
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