Thymenirella, Hypothyroid, And So Over Your Ass

Dear Thyroid,

So, I’m in the midst of menopause, enjoying the “power surges” as they are a part of life (RIGHT?), working 2 jobs, raising 2 teenagers without the help of the sperm provider who contributed to the other half of their gene pool (I believe he was on girlfriend #4 or 5 at the time) and losing weight. Could I actually be one of “The lucky ones” whose hormones decided to right their wrong in the midst of my incredible stress and help me finally achieve the body I’d always wanted? Life was good and I was enjoying the ride. 

Then, strange things began to happen. You played your game brilliantly, at first, with just enough hints to let me know something was up; but you were subtle enough to stay below the radar while you prepared your full frontal attack. It never dawned on me that my short term memory problem (loss) was your doing. Since I couldn’t personally hear my slurred speech (and my family and co-workers were “kind” enough not to point it out) and ALL thought I was drinking on the job, it didn’t matter. And the too numerous to mention “Shampoo in the fridge, milk in the pantry” episodes were just silly menopausal moments; life continued. Even when my hoarse voice and sore throat prevented me from speaking every night, we still found that silver lining—I was no longer adding incessant commentary during baseball and football games and my husband liked this.

It was easy to ignore the symptoms: The hair loss was taken in stride because I’d been given a head full, and the thinning brows didn’t bother me because I never paid that much attention to them anyway. I was a little concerned at the 4 pubic hairs left on my nether regions, but it worked in my favor because I finally had the bikini body I hadn’t had in ,oh, say, 30 yrs.

Life went on until the day it almost didn’t. Not getting that yet? Let me refresh your memory—

Remember the day I got to work, but wasn’t sure how I MADE IT THERE? I do remember running that curb and almost T-boning that car on the drive in. And Oh, I do remember that my eyelids had been swollen shut that morning (as they had for many, many previous mornings, blamed salt on that problem). When my husband of 1 yr. got me to the doctor, everyone was sure I was having a stroke. My BP 195/110 on meds. I had that glazed, dazed and totally confused look on my face when someone was speaking. “Dr., is that you????” I tried to speak, but, alas, only Dr. Spock would’ve understood as it all sounded like Vulcan. Short version: TSH of 40, severe hypothyroidism. Guess you forgot to consult my heart when you decided to run rampant through my innards, you know, you both could’ve possibly worked out a better game to play TOGETHER as you were sharing the same body. Remember those two valves we had to replace in the “Main engine’ (my heart) back in ’00? You, my new nemesis, couldn’t have brought heart palpitations to a worse patient.

So, no driving for 2 weeks, which meant no work, no paycheck. Take this pill and your world will be A-OK. Are you kiddin’ me? I dutifully took “The pill” and watched in amazement as my body began morphing into someone I had yet to meet. As the weight began piling on, you forgot to tell my pancreas and liver to just relax and give the body some time to adjust.

Here’s a hint, you all need some better internal communication. By the time you inflated me to 60 pounds in 4 months, my liver was a quiverin’ and my pancreas was a kickin’ my ample ass. I had no idea how freaked out doctors could get when they had to deal with one patients out-of-whack lab results every time they were reviewed.

One month, it was the cardiac labs askew, then the liver decided to get cranky, pancreas comes and goes. Not wanting to be left out, the bowels enlarge and return to normal. They had to take their turn, too. I am hoping that we can come to some kind of resolution soon where we learn to get along.

In the interim, you may want to review your own role in giving a patient his/her symptoms. My research has informed me that hypothyroidism should cause weight gain, fatigue, dry skin, you know the drill. And hyperthyroidism should do just the opposite. I don’t mean to be telling you how to do your job or anything, but since you’ve already screwed around with me like the ultimate science experiment, I’m here to inform you that you’ve also given me ALL the hypothyroid symptoms when my TSH was in the hyperthyroid range, along with some of the hyperthyroid symptoms as well.

Geez, no offense or anything, but you must’ve been standing in the back of the line when they were passing out instructions to you thyroid glands on how to fuck up a person’s life. You’re an embarrassment to your gland!!! You, my gland, seem to want to play the “Dumber” role in the “Dumb and Dumber” game of life.

So, even though I am presently in the way low hyper TSH range, I’m bloated and gassy and as irritable as a hooker on a nickel night. I’m also getting a very strong urge to howl at the moon; possibly because I find it intriguing to wake at 2:14 am SHARP.

And thanks for that great moustache you’ve given me; I’m a girl, by the way. Maybe you could ask your hair follicle friends to send a little love to the pubic region. And since we’re discussing strange symptoms and your active role in them; what’s with the sweating? Could you possibly tell the sweat glands to try spewing juice from the arm pits instead of my head, neck, chest and ass? I would find it much easier to explain to the concerned citizens in my circle about armpit sweat instead of the sweat pouring buckets down my face. They all want to rush my ass to the ER and I’ve seen enough of doctors to last a lifetime—Thanks but no thanks.

I’d really love to say; “See you later, sucka”, but knowing your inability to comprehend the normal order of life’s events-and realizing that I’ve been given the only thyroid gland with bipolar disorder and ADHD, I’ll sign off by saying: See ya sooner AND later!

Billie

PS- Maybe you could talk it over with some of my skin cells and have them put a big welt across my forehead that reads; “I’ve got a glandular condition”. It would save me a lot of energy trying to explain my present appearance.

(Bio) 57 y/o female with a zest for life when I’m not zesting for a nap or retirement or a trim figure or a large disposable income; also, a 57 y/o female who abhors people feeling sorry for me, but adores people who want to rub my feet.

Why Are You Doing This To Me, Thyroid?

Dear Thyroid,

Do you realize what you are doing to me? I am in my mid-twenties, but because of you, I have to take a nap each day like a 3-year-old. Every day I try to do my best at school but it seems like I just can’t seem to concentrate for more than 10 minutes. Thanks for making me feel like an idiot. And what about chocolate? You know how I like chocolate, but just looking at it makes me gain 2 pounds.

I have been dealing with you for a long time without even knowing it. A few months ago, I actually thought I was just fat and tired. And now I know that I am sick. It is kind of a relief, because I can fight those, and the many other symptoms, but I am constantly reminded of you.

Every day I wake up knowing that I am sick and that I will be sick for the rest of my life. As frustrating as that is, there is something worse, that has nothing to do with you, dear thyroid, for a change—

It’s the way people react when I tell them about my disease. A few have been very supportive, and, I especially want to thank @ThyroidMary for her help and support here. Most people told me that I finally have found an excuse for being fat and lazy. Isn’t that nice?

I am helping you, my dear thyroid, now by taking the meds you and I need to go through this. And how do you thank me for that? You are turning me into a manic depressive insomniac. I have seen more doctors in the past few weeks than in my whole life before. I had to get all the information on what´s wrong with you on my own.

I did all this to make sure we get along. So could you do something for me for a change? Please let me go back to the person I was before you and I got sick. Please, just give me back my life.

(Bio) My name is Christina Hütten and I am 25 years old.I got diagnosed with Hashimotos disease two weeks ago, but I have been dealing with it for a long time before that and there is almost nothing left of my thyroid.

Who Needs a Prom Dress When You’ve Got Thyroid Disease?

Dear Thyroid,

Now you see, this is just getting thydiculas. I wish you would just think about what you are doing for a second. This is only causing you pain by making my brain stay up all night, and now my immune system can’t fight off the ‘back to school’ cold, because she is too busy dealing with you. My grandma has found the quote, “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,” and this is a great example of the thyation out there. We are joining together, you know that?

Even though I’m supposed to be some thoughtless teenager (which is why you choose to attack me), I have been gaining knowledge about your weaknesses, and so are the others. And I know I have to thank you for a lot: for keeping in check for the first 14 years of my life. So, what went wrong? I never meant to hurt you and neither did my immune system; it’s just confused (you know it didn’t do well in school). Maybe you could tutor it? This could be the start of a wonderful friendship. You know?

Now, looking back I am trying to remember the start of our “Relationship”, you first showed yourself by way of a goiter and we thought it might just be an iodine deficiency, or something else. Then they had you sonogram-ed and they poked me with needles (I hate needles) and came to the conclusion that I had Hashimoto’s and that my immune system was bullying you (how awful. Did I mention I was picked on in junior high a lot? So I can tell you, thyroid that this is nothing compared to those three years) and to stay ahead of the crowd you decided to freak out! Which meant shrinking the space were oxygen, food, and speech pass though! Now I know it’s not your fault, but it could be. It’s probably half immune system and half yours (you probably provoked my immune system).

I wonder how long you are going to try and fight my immune system. Another year? Two? Fifty? I wish you would give up, or ask my immune system to; it just hangs up on me (how high school), can’t it just grow up, right? I know that this is the beginning but just so you know, I AM fighting you just as hard as you are fighting me, or maybe even harder, with the help of my new friends (Katie, Liz, and Bek) I will stop you. You know It’s true, because I am two steps ahead. And we will be seeing an endo soon, and they will be very helpful too. And we will gossip for hours behind your back and make jokes, just like how you and immune system do to me (I know you are thyimes) trying to bring me down. But you never know, you could be the victim here and I am sorry if you are but, I have to watch out for my self. Do you think goiter is behind it all?

May the best organism win (I’m bigger than you),

Madison.

(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.

Thy Good, Thy Bad And Thy ugly

Dear Thyroid,

I can’t remember when my relationship with you started to strain, but I can guess that is the way you would prefer it. I do remember not feeling like myself for awhile, like I had won the symptoms lottery – but it was missing some zeros. So, I called on my good friend Google to find answers.

I followed my good friend Google’s instructions and went to my doctor with printouts and examples of all the symptoms I had. I got the same old song-and-dance as everyone else about how depressed I was and received a little piece of paper containing illegible handwritings for prescriptions to: “Get a Hobby and some anti-depression medication”.

I went home and immediately spent the next few hours crying and yelling about how depressed I wasn’t.  I was so upset and frustrated, I threw my anti-depression meds in the trash. If I wasn’t depressed before – I was now.

I thought to myself, “I will show you, Dr. Anti-Depression Meds!” And promptly did what you, thyroid, wanted – NOTHING. I continued to get tired, gain weight and wished whatever was ailing me would correct itself and make me well. Because the doctor DID say it wasn’t my thyroid. Sigh.

Then I joined a boot camp at the gym (don’t laugh!). I needed to lose this weight somehow right? Well, after about 2 weeks of getting up at 5:00 AM and running in circles around the gym –you, thyroid, had finally had enough. I remember pushing myself to continue to run around the gym, but I simply couldn’t do it. I stopped – it was like I hit a brick wall. Thyroid you simply said “I can’t go anymore”.  I remember hearing my heart beating so loudly that I am sure all the others heard it, too. It was then that I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t continue to live this way. I needed to see someone that could really help me. And I did – 1 GP, 3 Endo’s and a Holistic Doctor. Now, if you, thyroid will kindly step out of the way – I have some healing to do!

(Bio) Jody Turek, diagnosed sometime in 2000 (can’t or I choose not to remember). I sometimes blog when my Thyroid remembers to at Hypogirl.com. Never in my life would I have imagined suffering from an autoimmune disorder (Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis). But I am thankful to have found a great group of people, also suffering, that make me laugh. Laughter is the best medicine! Read more about Jody at her Blog, HypoGirl.