Thypunzel, The Dragon

Madison, thyroid patient, hashimoto's thyroiditis, dear thyroid letters

Dear Thyroid,

What’s the latest with you besides being a lazy ass? You know it’s 2AM and because you’re winning, I’m still awake. Not because I’m cramming for a test, or I was out with friends or a boyfriend, for that matter, probably your fat ass looks just as big as my 38D boobs, protruding from my throat. But hey I’m a regular fairytale princess. I’m a regular sleeping beauty. I had to cut my hair, hair that used to go all the way to the middle of my back, like Rapunzel because of the heat.

I’m in a dragon-guarded castle and you are the dragon. I’m just waiting for my knight in shining armor — that’s all I can do is live in this waiting game, in the “waiting place”.  Sometimes I even feel like Fiona locked away in a tower for no one to see. And I have to tell you, it’s not all your fault, they won’t see me. This makes you happy? My birthday is in January, it’s not like I’m getting any younger or healthier, for that matter.

My body aches, my head aches, and my throat aches. I want you to let someone save me from your dragon thyriody self, could you let that happen, please? I want to dance at homecoming. I want my feet and hands to be warm, and not asleep. I want to experience this year and not be stuck at home watching the soap network, instead of at the game.

I feel locked in the highest tower and no one can help because no one knows how to slay the dragon. I can keep myself in check. I can eat right, but you keep fighting back, I guess you are just as stubborn as me.

‘Till Later,


(Bio) I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s at 15, and now 17 and starting my senior year of high school. Even though I struggle, like most, I am still trying to be a normal teen, I am and writer and editor of my school paper. I hope someday to become an elementary school principle. I also hope for love this year, like most teenage girls, even though my weight changes as much as the shoes I wear, my greatest wish is to go though and entire day without a nap.


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Marco Thylo The Winner of the Scary Endo Yarn Is

Marco Thylo, thyroid patients venting about bad endocrinologists, Dear Thyroid win a t-shirt contest

As you know, last week we decided to run the scariest endo yarn contest. Instead of voting, which we usually do, because my dad came up with the “Lightbulb” contest and he’s such an advocate for Dear Thyroid, we asked him to chose the winner.

From my dad, a fabulous father indeed: The winner is Bee (even though the first part of her letter was missing) for describing the worst experience. Her descriptions were so extreme that they were like caricatures’ that amplified the experiences each of you go through. I think it’s critical that we continue to share our experiences because the knowledge not only gives us more strength but the shared experience motivates us to be more assertive with our health care “professionals”.

CONGRATULATIONS, BEELISH! Now, click on over to the Dear Thyroid Store and choose your winning item, email me and I will send it to you.

Everyone, OUTSTANDING ENTRIES, thank you. We loved each and every one. Making a decision was not easy. There were positive and negative experiences, each was so insightful and honest. You are the bravest most remarkable community on the planet and we love you to bits and pieces.




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You Are A Thyrocious, Vile Thyroid, Shame On You

Thyroid cancer patients writing about their disease, dear thyroid letters, chris thyroid letter

Dear Thyroid;

This is why I hate you and miss you at the same time. At one point in my life, while I still had you, I was an insulin-dependent diabetic. You helped me to lose the weight and I was able to stop using the needles. Life was good, wasn’t it thyroid? We were such good pals. Over the years, working as a team, we went from a size 28 to a size 4. Those were good times.

Just last year, we were doing so well together that they took me off all my diabetes medication because we had everything under control. Do you remember? We were so happy. It was a day neither of us thought would ever come.

But then you got sick on me, dear thyroid. You betrayed my body and me. You back stabbing little bitch. I’m facing my third neck surgery because of you. And even though you are gone, as is most of the cancer, I still have a year of cosmetic surgery and treatment to remove the hideous scar you insisted on leaving behind. A scar that is a constant reminder of how good life used to be before you started hating me.

But that wasn’t bad enough, was it? I’ve gained twenty pounds since you left and even though I’m on the same diet that worked so well for us these last six years, my blood sugar is now out of control. Instead of being off all medication, I’m up to 20 pills a day. The diabetes medication makes me sick, and you know that, but yet now I have to take it twice a day. And if I still continue to gain weight, I’ll be back on insulin by Christmas.

I don’t know what I did to piss you off so much that you had to destroy my body. But here I am, learning to live life without you.

(Bio) Chris is a 29-year-old thyroid cancer survivor still waiting for remission.  An aspiring author, she spends her free time with other thyroid cancer survivors, freelance marketing, baking for friends, reading and playing with her two dogs.


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Glanding Along?

Robyn Dear Thyroid Letter, Glanding Along, thyroid patient letters

Dear Thyroid,

You are a sneaky bastard.  You crept up on me so slowly and silently that I didn’t know it was you that was sucking the life out of me.  All my symptoms were explained away by aging, “peri-menopause”, and the stress of being a parent.  But you got greedy, and that was your fatal mistake.  After all this time living together, how did you not know that I am like the Princess with the Pea under her mattress?  I could feel your mild enlargement even though the ENT said there was no way I possibly could.  And that was all it took for me to wade through doctors and tests, with some help from Uncle Google and a friend’s physician husband, to rat you out.  Once you were exposed, the truth tumbled out like clowns from a Mini Cooper, and just as scary.

But you are going down swinging.  In my naiveté, I thought I could just take this little pill and be rid of your grip forever.  The tricks up your sleeve keep coming (that brief switch to hyperthyroidism you sprung on me last week that made my neck swell up and my heart race was good one–touche!), but I want you to know that I will prevail.  I am strong, I am stubborn, and I will not be defeated by my own body.  You fucked with the wrong person, my glandular nemesis, and you will soon see that your best move will be to keep a low profile for a while.  There is still a lot we need to do to be able to live under the same roof peacefully, and as long as you insist on not behaving, I will insist on fighting you.  (And I will not hesitate to banish you to “time-out” if you don’t heed my warnings–if you think I’m kidding, just ask my daughter 🙂

(Bio) Robyn is a 40 year old veterinarian who spends as much time as possible with her precocious 3 year old daughter, and her husband when he isn’t overseas defending our nation.  In her spare time, she rides dressage on her spunky horse, practices yoga, and Googles thyroid issues.


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