My Wonky Thyroid and Me

(Arrows indicating approximate location of my wonky thyroid.)

Okay, usually I don't write about "me". Sure, I write about things that happen to me...but usually I hope I do it where someone can go "Oh...yeah...that's happened to ME, too!" and they relate and a fairly good time is [hopefully] had by all.

Well, today is different.

Many of you out there know I have a comedy website I haven't updated in an eon plus two. Many of you out there also know that I am in an extended "pre-divorce" situation and as such I am severely depressed as I don't have: 1) Money; 2) A job; 3) Any relative I could call up and get support from; 4) My "Mummo" (what I called my mother) anymore; and 4) No health insurance as soon as I eventually get divorced. Oh...and did I mention health issues?

I usually tend to keep those to myself and my two or three chosen friends who have to endure endless crying episodes of me on the telephone and my venting and droning on and on and on about how pathetic I am and surely I am indeed a waste of skin. I'm not even a waste of "good" skin as my skin looks pretty thin and old by now and I have a sneaky suspicious feeling that I know why:

My wonky thyroid.

I tried to discount it. I tried to reason it all out. I tried to think of other reasons I have that would make my thyroid a secondary accomplice to all the perpetrators I have in my body which feel like they've gone and burglarized, ransacked and kidnapped whoever used to be IN my body. I am left with this horrible shell of who I used to be - and I don't like the "Folger's Coffee replacement" they left in my stead.

In a few words...I don't LIKE who I've become.

I have absolutely no motivation to do anything.

My hair is really thin and it looks pathetic - it's always been thin but it's even more thin and sparse, too.

I'm losing weight at an alarming rate. I'm not a big person and if I were I'm sure I'd be ecstatic about this part, but when you weigh about 120 to start with and are now at about 108 and NOTHING seems to fit...well, it's probably as bad as having a different weight issue.

I get mad at the drop of a hat. I overreact and I throw little temper tantrums...usually directed at my two kids and I hate myself for doing it.

I'm disoriented and forget things a lot. My brain's not working and of all the things I liked about myself (which weren't many), my brain was at the top of the list. Now it doesn't work. My brain doesn't work. I am crying as I type this...do you know what it's like to have your brain NOT WORK?? I don't remember things like I used to...and you take that and couple it with my neurotic tendencies (which I didn't used to have) well, my "brain case scenarios" are dire at best. I automatically think I have brain cancer, encephalitis, meningitis, brain herpes, a cerebral spinal fluid leak, dementia, Alzheimer's, specific cancers such as "tumor on my olfactory nerve", epilepsy, seizures, and just plain everyday stress-related brain issues in general.

Migraines. I've been having one a lot, especially since I got hit upside my head on the 28th of September after leaning to get out of the "blood chair". The swing arm of it wasn't all the way back and came back down and knocked me upside my head really jarring my neck and making me think I was now going to have an aneurysm in my brain. Did I mention I was on blood thinners? My little brain would bleed at the drop of a hat - and certainly at the drop of the stupid swing arm of the "blood chair". (A CT scan at the ER last week was fine. Yes, I went there as I had the most severe headache I'd ever had.)

Anxiety. I have a whole plethora of things I am anxious about. Basically dealing with my health...and being old...and having no health insurance eventually...and having no job...and wait...I told you all those things already. When your heart skips beats or goes willy-nilly-silly for a bit...and you have been diagnosed with a few things wrong with your heart - like atrial fibrillations...well, you get anxious a lot when it happens.

I'm falling asleep for no real reason other than I've been diagnosed with Sleep Apnea recently and because I didn't do my sleep study at the converted house in Wetumpka which reeked of mold and new paint...my study has apparently been put on hold. This in itself makes me even more anxious as apparently you can have all kinds of heart problems and things like strokes when you have Sleep Apnea. I never was able to go to sleep before and have had to take Ambien just to shut my brain off...so falling asleep at 9:00 p.m. vs 9:00 a.m. (like usual) is really scary.

Energy. I have none. I don't even have enough energy to type up why. Trust me...there's no energy in this body. I am the antithesis of the Energizer Bunny. I am more the Lack-of-Energy Sloth.

But the coup de gras is my wonky thyroid. My thyroidologist (yes, I made that word up) wants to obliterate my thyroid ("...like the first Mrs. Bush" he kept saying) by radioactive iodine. The otolaryngologist (no, that word I didn't make up) whom I saw in Birmingham back in February said my thyroid was "okie dokie" (perhaps not using those specific words) and didn't see any need to have it surgically removed. Then I had six fine needle aspiration biopsies there at the Kirklin Clinic and they sent me on my merry way. So, while I was sent on my merry way...I wasn't exactly merry. And I've been getting less and less merry ever since.

I feel like crap. Pure utter crap.

So...the reason behind my blog here other than releasing pent up hormones of frustration (which is probably yet another sign my thyroid is wonky)...has anyone out there been diagnosed with hyperthyroidism and dealt with it in some way? I know I can go online and read all the thyroid posts and whatnot - but it would be nicer if someone I remotely knew (even tho I don't know any of you, really) had some first-hand knowledge of it they'd like to share with me. Sharing with me via the phone...even better. Seriously, I'm getting very desperate here...I honestly would like to talk about hyperthyroidism experiences (of which there are many more than I listed here).

I really don't want to suck down some radioactive iodine...but it's looking better and better every single damn day. Especially if I can follow it with a Martini chaser.

Oh, for the days Reader's Digest would publish their "I am Joe's Spleen"...as I would rather read that (only you know..."I am Joe's Thyroid") than the wide range of scary things that come up when I type "hyperthyroidism" into that "outlined in black box" thingy known generically as the Google Search Engine.

Anyone? Please...please...please...

It's Just a Matter of Time

Well, it happened yet again to me last night.

I call my on-call doctor at 2:00 a.m. to let her know I have increasing right-side abdominal pain. Pain, by the way, which I mentioned when I saw a physician on Monday. Pain, which I mentioned when I saw another one on Tuesday, and pain, which I mentioned to yet another one, on Wednesday.

But, I guess I broke some unwritten on-call doctor rule: I woke her up.

I didn't mean to wake her up - I don't know what time she goes to bed - if she would have called me at 2:00 a.m., I wouldn't have had any problem with it. And, silly me for not timing the severity of my abdominal pain at a "more convenient" time for her.

I got the requisite "Are you vomiting, diarrhea, fever, etc.?" questions - and I answer, "No, no, no, well, yes...but I'm on a drug that does that anyway." The rest of the conversation (and my fleeting ongoing phone-call thoughts) goes a bit like this...

"My pain? Right lower side - it started getting really severe about 30 minutes ago...altho it seems a bit better now. I was just concerned it was appendicitis."

Well, I'm 48 - apparently not the "ideal" age for appendix problems. Silly me, again...I should have checked online first before I called...altho I've been chastised by nearly every single doctor about online self-diagnosis, even if that diagnosis was via WebMD or MayoClinic.com.

"Can you wait until tomorrow to go to Pri-Med?"

"I hope so...what do YOU think? I called you to make sure it didn't sound like appendicitis or something else to really worry about."

"Well, only YOU know if it's bad enough to go to the ER or wait. Apparently it was bad enough for you to wake ME up at 2:00 a.m. to tell me about it."

Well, so sorry to have bothered you - next time I'll try to time my increasing pain better - in fact I'll just set up on appointment next week to have it. (No, I didn't say this...but I was thinking it the whole time.)

Bear in mind I was once verbally scolded by a doctor who said I shouldn't eat apples at night. It felt like a big chunk was lodged in my throat...and, after waiting about five hours for it to dissolve or slide down, I finally gave up and called. I remember the exact exchange like it was yesterday...

"You should be in bed at 4:00 a.m., SLEEPING, like I'm going to get back to doing once I hang up the phone. If you can still breathe...YOU'RE NOT CHOKING!"

"Well, I didn't say I was choking, it just feels like it's stuck in my throat like right where..."

Click.

Yes, he hung up on me in mid-sentence. This happened about eight months ago.

So, after I hung up the phone last night...I cried and cried.

I don't want to be a pain in the butt - I don't want to call doctors on weekends - I don't want to call them at 2:00 a.m. - but, isn't it also a fact that an "on-call" doctor...IS on-call?

I didn't call because I had an eyelash in my eye. I didn't call because my cat scratched me. I called because I honestly was worried I was having something which could lead to a even worsening situation and/or death.

But, after I cried, I cried and cried some more -- feeling like I'm just a waste of skin and promising myself the next time, if something happens off-hours or on weekends, I'll just ignore it - preferring death to their guilt-trip-laden third-degree "How dare you bother ME!" treatment.

Seriously, I felt worse AFTER I hung up than before I called...each of these times...and just ended up taking my Ambien and hoping I'd wake up the next day.

But after several nonchalant dismissals of this nature (for both myself and my children), I'm wondering how many people actually get treated this way - or is it just that I've gotten the "red-flagged...oh it's that whiner again" reputation? Did I do anything I oughtn't to have done? How should I handle things like this in the future?

I don't sit around my house thinking of ways I can piss off yet another doctor. I don't like going to the Emergency Room to waste six hours of my life. But I don't want to be another one of those "Oh, she shouldn't have waited to call" death statistic, either.

I fear if I call to complain or to report them (it's happened with base doctors several times)...I'm sure to get treated worse in the future...and it's not like I can change doctors like I do underwear. So, have any of you been where I've been with this? And if you have...or even if you haven't, what is your suggestion to me?


Truth be told, I've had some very nice responses from on-call doctors...especially the ones in Birmingham. In fact, I've never been treated badly by any doctors in Birmingham...why, I haven't a clue.

(Written, but not published, about a year ago...on a Friday.)