I posted a status on my Facebook a couple of days ago stating that I was seriously considering blogging. Oh, I’ve done the occasional “blog” on MySpace. Nothing very focused on one thing or another. Just a series of random thoughts. I have been known to be random. And to babble. What really got me thinking was the Hypothyroidism group I joined on Facebook and seeing all the posts from people who have had it for years and really knew nothing about a disorder that is crippling their quality of life. I’m one of those people who have to do research. If my doctor tells me I have something, you bet I’m looking up what I can on it.
I started noticing a difference in my body over a year ago. Folding a load of laundry was like carrying a load of bricks for me. Many times I had to lie down or even nap, because the sheer exhaustion and fatigue it caused. Just that simple mundane task I’ve done for years. Then, I was tiring out carrying groceries up a flight of stairs and into the apartment. The only thing that moved me to get them put away instead of pass out right at the door, was knowing the groceries would spoil if I didn’t tend to them right away. The day I nearly had to call my husband when I was halfway through the grocery shopping was the day I told him he had to take over the shopping. I lost my energy right there in the middle of the store. I just wanted to sit down and nap right there in the back aisle.
My irritable bowel syndrome seemed to go into overdrive. My eyesight was blurry. I couldn’t concentrate or focus. My memory, which was once described by a former co-worker as a “file drawer,” went downhill. If I wanted any chance of remembering anything, I had to write it down. My breathing was more labored and I had to use my Albuterol inhaler for the first time in a year or so. I had more headaches than usual. I’ve had migraines as long as I can remember and sinus headaches since moving to Kentucky. But these headaches were different. I had horrible mood swings. The smallest thing could make me angry. Things that normally wouldn’t make me angry. Luckily, I was able to recognize this early on and prevent a lot of verbal aggression. Unfortunately for my husband and some poor guy at cheapoair.com, I had an outburst or two that I couldn’t head off at the pass. My body had gone haywire and I was falling apart.
I felt that maybe I just needed some rest. Christmas was getting near and my boss closes the office between Christmas and New Year. Surely a break would help. Starting Christmas day, I did pretty much nothing except what was necessary for my entire vacation. Everyday I woke up feeling the same. Utterly and completely exhausted. After a few days of doing nothing and not feeling any better, I called my doctor. He was out-of-town and I could have seen another doctor in his practice, but this was important enough to wait to see him since he knows my history the best. Until then, I stayed in bed unless I had to go to work or fix dinner.
Now doctors don’t always know what is wrong when you come in and they send you out for tests. Mine sent me for lab work. Needles. I hate needles. Since it was afternoon when I saw him, I couldn’t do the lab work until the next day because it was fasting blood tests. So, next morning I get up bright and early for the trek and wait for my turn in the lab office. Have I mentioned I don’t like needles? I hate needles. I hate ’em. I hate ’em. I hate ’em. I can tolerate them for my allergy shots or for acupuncture. I really loathe the needles they use for lab work. Especially when it stays in your arm while they take SEVEN TUBES of my blood. Yes, they took 7 tubes. I nearly cried. 7 tubes. You bet your ass I was eating right after that and drinking orange juice. I started to feel funny a few hours later. My right arm started going numb (the same arm that got poked) and I felt light headed. I nearly went home from work, but somehow held out until the end of my work day. Later, when I took the bandage off from the lab work, I was greeted with a nice big bruise. WTF? went through my head. I’ve had the occasional bruise after blood is taken, but not the size of the one that was staring me in the face.
This was around the time that I noticed that my whole body became ultra-sensitive to touch. I have friends that like to poke me in the arm. Just a light poke that doesn’t really bother me. If they had poked me then, I would have screamed from pain. Yes, something was rotten in the state of my health.
My doctor sent me a copy of my labs along with a prescription for Synthroid and a letter stating that I have Hypothyroidism. WHAT? I went over my labs, which I can understand most of, thanks to my previous job, and it wasn’t adding up for me. So, first thing I did was call and leave his nurse a message with QUESTIONS! Then I sent my cousin, a doctor, a message with the results. I always go to her as a second opinion/sounding board. Not that I don’t trust my doctor. I just like being able to go to her with questions and whatnot to make sure I’m not being steered in the wrong direction.
Brandy, my doctor’s nurse, called me back the next day with the answers to my questions. And with that, I took in my prescription to my pharmacy and started down the road of life with Synthroid.