I had another fight recently in Modesto. It was supposed to be against an awesome fighter, Jennifer Tate. A week before the fight, she had to pull out due to appendicitis. Just my luck. So they give me the option of fighting the girl I had just beat in Wyoming. Not wanting to miss a chance to fight, I took it. We agreed to fight at 125. I got there pretty easily. On the day of weigh-ins, I find out that she is over 130 and can't come down in weight. My luck, again. I agree to fight anyhow. At weigh ins, I was 123- she was 131. She must have plumped up to the 140s at fight time, but, due to some stomach virus that I developed on fight day, I never got over 123.
You never think to back out on a fight for not feeling good- so despite being pretty ill that day, I forged on. I entered the cage weak- but I felt I still had a good chance to win. The first round went great except for a head butt (my bad) early on which cost me a point. The second round- I had a tough time keeping my hands up- but I managed to do pretty good. She caught me in some take downs, but I had some wicked escapes and ended up on top a few times. The third round, I was plumb tuckered out. I fended her off mostly- I'd have to give her that one- except for after the bell rang (and the fight was over) she stomped on my head and flipped me off. Nice. A true lady, wouldn't you say? I caught this on tape and am submitting it to the California Athletic Commission for review. The judges gave the decision to her, but due to her unsportsmanlike behavior, I'm hoping they'll take the win away and call it a no contest.
After the fight, the real battle began (for my health, that is). I was sick as a dog- couldn't hold any fluid down. I was experiencing the worst flu-like symptoms of my life. The drive home was horrible, we had to pull over several times. I couldn't even keep Pedialyte down. Once home, I ended up in the hospital for severe dehydration and found out I had suffered kidney failure. I was pretty scared. It took 4 days of IV fluids to flush out my kidneys and get them up and running again. This is how much fluid they pumped into me- I went in at 123 pounds and left at 137 (I'm back down to my fighting weight, now).
I kind of understand how my poor dog felt- she was at the vet's office for almost a week getting pumped full of fluids for almost the same thing. They say dogs resemble their owners, for us it was the other way around. By the way, she is just about back to normal- perky as ever!
Here's the part that kills me; I had a fight lined up against my hero, 5 time world kickboxing champ- Kathy Long. It was slated for August, and I had to back out of it. At this point, I'm unsure if my kidney doctor will release me to fight at all. I'm trying to remain hopeful, but it's hard. If you want to be supportive- try to avoid saying "Oh well- you were too old, anyhow" or "You shouldn't have worked out so hard". Talk about adding insult to injury.
As I've been healing (lot's of bed rest and fluids), I've been enjoying more junk food than normal. My husband, who's been wonderfully supportive, has asked what I might do if I can't fight anymore. I joke that I might start doing the food eating contests- I can put away A LOT of Oreos! Anyhow, whatever happens, I will continue to work out and train people, but I will be hopeful that I can have at least that one last fight against Kathy some day.....