So, the plot thickens....

I had started running. It is easier for me to run in the winter for a few reasons. The hugest one is that I HATE to sweat. Seriously, it just freaks me out. Also, I have some asthma struggles, and seem to do better in cooler (but not COLD) air. And, finally, I don't really like wearing cold weather gear, I feel like I'm being smothered. So, if I go running and don't need all that, I can go out, get some sunshine and fresh air, but not feel like Ralphie in A Christmas Story.
I had just gotten to where I was doing 2 miles a day of straight running; which is huge for me. The day I decided to bump it up to 5, was the most beautiful January day ever. I made it barely one mile before I started experiencing the most crushing, squeezing pain in my chest. Working in the ER, I knew what kinds of chest pain were benign and what ones to worry about. Of course, there's always that huge chunk of female population with an atypical heart attack presentation.... I pulled my MP3 player out of the pouch around my neck and looked at my reflection in it. My coloring was good, my heart rate was pretty quickly getting back to a normal level. I decided to walk the rest of the way home and just tough it out. MOstly, I didn't want to bare my chest for an EKG unless I was SURE I was dying.
I decided to jog the next day, just a mile, so that I was still working, but taking it easier. I made it to the end of the street.
A week later, my Prednisone pack almost gone, I decided to try again. I made it about a mile this time, when my legs instantly felt like they had been lit on fire. I stopped, and pulled up the legs of my running tights. My capillaries were breaking again, but not in any sort of previous pattern. IN stead of small pinpricks, the spots were about the size of the tip of my pinky finger, red, and mean looking. They looked like 5-10 mm blood blisters (which I suppose is actually pretty close to what they are). I had my cell on me, and immediately called Hoover Clinic. The doctor I had seen brushed me off, muttered something about time, reminding me that he had stated that this could last 8-12 weeks, that he was SURE the prednisone had taken care of it, and to basically just quit my worrying.
I went home, elevated my legs, and decided to ask around at work for a rrecommendation of a new clinic.