Glanding Along?

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.

Gland To Mike

Dear Mike,

I am sorry.  I really am.  I know you are angry at me.  I know you blame me for how you feel.  Life isn’t fair, not to you and not to me.  Sometimes I just want to cry about it, but life must go on.

I really want you to understand what is going on here.  I know that what you really want, what you really need, is healing.  And I know you won’t be able to get that until you realize the truth about what happened to us.  You cannot cure a disease until you address the cause of it; treating the symptoms may make you feel better, but it doesn’t make you well.

And this is what I want you to know:  the doctors may classify me as diseased myself, but I am just a symptom of a larger problem.  Think about it…

All of us, every cell in our body, came from just one original cell.  So, we all have the same set of chromosomes and the same set of genes.  The cells in me have all the same programming as the cells in your brain, or in your skin, or in your kidneys, or in your bones.  Somewhere along the line, certain genes in my cells got turned on and others were turned off and I became assigned the task of managing the iodine in the body and creating metabolic hormones out of it.  It’s a pretty nifty job, if I do say so myself.  But external factors aside, the other cells in the body are pretty much working normally, but I am not.  Why?  What happened?  We have the same program!

Think about it, will you?  Something happened to me to mess up my programming; something I could not control.  I tried to keep working properly, but there was only so much I could do before I was too damaged.  Perhaps I was poisoned by something in the environment:  a chemical or something radioactive that damaged my programming so that it wasn’t the same as the original.  Why did you allow those substances into our body?  Weren’t you paying attention?  Was it something you ate?  Something you drank?  Something you breathed in?  You know I can’t control those things.  All I do is make metabolic hormone… or at least I used to.

Perhaps the immune system attacked me.  Oh!  The nerve them!  We’re all part of the same team, and I was attacked…unprovoked!  How can that be?  It’s just so wrong!  Why don’t you blame THEM?  They just barged in here shooting off antibodies and invading with killer T cells, and they didn’t even bother to ask questions first.  I’m so incensed about this.  Why didn’t you stop them?  I’m the one that should be angry here.

Of course, sometimes the programming gets so messed up by something else that one of my cells gets out of control.  It starts growing, and multiplying, and it’s not making the hormone to the right formula.  I yelled “Stop!  Stop!” but nobody listened.  Where were those vicious T cells when I needed them?  Eventually you got sick from their toxic spew, and I was fighting as best I could, but you had to call that doctor instead… the one who used nuclear weapons on me!  Oh the horrors!  (Didn’t you learn anything from the Hiroshimans?)  This is what makes me cry the most.

And the pituitary doesn’t help.  It keeps relentlessly jabbing me in the side with that TSH stuff.  Enough already!  It’s irritating!  Do you know how much work it is to keep padding myself from those jabs by adding layer after layer of cells.  A goiter may be ugly to you, but it’s my self defense mechanism against that bossy pituitary!  Why don’t you go yell at it for a while instead.

I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE AS ANGRY ABOUT THIS SITUATION AS YOU ARE!  But anger won’t help up.  Anger is poison.  Haven’t we been poisoned enough by whatever it was that killed me?  I want to do my job, but I just cannot anymore, and we all suffer because of it.  Please try to understand my side of things.

Regretfully,
Your Thyroid

Mike is a 36-year old male suffering from hypothyroidism of mysterious cause for almost 10 years now.  He believes that knowledge is power, and that true healing cannot happen without fully understanding the entire situation.  Examining the opposing point-of-view is essential to obtain knowledge and understanding.  The greatest discoveries come from thinking differently. Check out Mike’s website.

Thyrants, October 24-31

Twitter:

@christinah84 Shouldn’t the fatigue and foggy brain go away once my TSH is on a healthy level?

@Yodat I think my thyroid is having an identity crisis.

@christinah84 The worst thing about my disease to me is that I’m constantly reminded of it. Not one day passes without saying the word “thyroid”.

Facebook:

Sarina Favazza-Bray “Thyrant” isn’t the word for it: not only did I have a wrong diagnosis, two sonograms, painful biopsy, report read wrong ‘till third opinion, two surgeries before they the found the first cancer, thyroid and cancer taken out, bad infection on scar, cat scan with and with out contrast, NOW I have recurring cancer in the lymphnode in my neck. What the fuckin’ hell is going on?? Come on now, I’ve had enough — NO THYROID HERE!!!!!!! How am I supposed to deal? Oh lets not forget LAST WEEK the pill with iodine, cat scan for that, now I have to have a mega dose of radiation (pill form) and all this to ablate the lymphnode cancer, and have to be isolated in the hospital for three days and no hugs and kisses from family, no sleeping together, separate eating utensils and showers and bathrooms, NO GRANDBABIES AROUND and all this with NO THYROID!!!! COME ON NOW WHOSE STUPID ASS JOKE IS THIS ANY WAY!?? HAPPY FRIKEN HALLOWEEN…

Cassandra Boykins My life is becoming a thyrant. thank you for my thyrage today. I almost bit my boss’s head off. Good thing he was on the phone, otherwise I would have been written up.

Liz Schau i feel like my immune system has been in retrograde these past three days, so thyroid, you get a break from my criticisms for now. I’m mad because all my hard work has been set back a few more weeks. I want to blame the Florida humidity for the problems I’m having, but who the hell knows anymore.

Sandy Savino Sieglaff I am sooo tired of the “thyroid cancer is the good kind to get”!! Oh yeah sure, it’s great to have a seven hour surgery, have your neck sliced open five”, go hypothyroid, have radioiodine and be secluded for at least three days. Let’s not forget the joy of constant bloodwork, losing 1/3 of my hair, exhaustion, the ridiculously dry skin after 30+ years of oily skin. Of course there is the ever-looming fear of being told the cancer is back and having to go through another surgery. Oh what a good cancer. Please dismiss my fears and pain because you don’t freakin’ understand it!

Billie Jean Doty Just found an Endo who came highly referred. Called his office to make an appt. He takes no insurance but will gladly take CASH. Didn’t schedule new appt. visit. Must wait for lottery win!

Zari Absaroka Well done! I’m writing to my immune system. You know the one that turned my thyroid into a homicidal maniac that had to be killed in self-defense. Not to mention a bunch of other bad things you’ve done over the years. But this time… my wife got really sick so I took care of her for a week. And I didn’t get sick at all even though she was coughing all over me when she could find the strength. You, immune system, slaughtered the attacking germs and the survivors fled screaming.

 Now just do me a favor. Go back to sleep until the next time the germs come to town, and don’t start any more bar room brawls with my own body.

Thigh-roidrage

Dear Thyroid;

You may only be a gland shaped like a delicate insect, tucked ever so neatly below the ‘voice box’, but oh what havoc you have reeked on the rest of your fellow body, mind and spirit parts!

This relationship has been more challenging than any I’ve ever incurred, including my marriage. I realize it wasn’t your fault, that family genes and “the kissing disease” most likely caused you to run amok, but why did you have to be so subtle in rearing your ugly head in so many ways, over so long a period??!!

What a fusspot about what foods I eat! Can’t you co-operate with your menopausal hormone buddies, or lack thereof, and get your act together!!? At least then I’d know which one to blame! I feel like “Sybil” some days. Who will I wake up as tomorrow??!!  And what size pants will I buy today? Why can’t I get a suntan over the spot where you lie under? I look like I have a white butterfly stencil on my neck, just a reminder of your omnipotence I guess?

I get it already. I am trying my level best to give you all the attention you so desperately need. I’ve changed my dose and taken time for your substitute to kick in. I’m bumping up your hormone buddies, so get along now, won’t you?

I’ve given up more blood in your name. I try not to eat those foods you so easily let me know irritate the crap out of you, so reduce some poundage in kind, if that’s not too much to ask? Then maybe, just maybe we’ll be friends again; you and I, my little butterfly.

(Bio) Deb is 58, married and has 2 grown sons and is retired after 31 years as a Respiratory Therapist in a large community hospital cardio-pulmonary testing unit. She also taught stress reduction and relaxation therapy for 5 years in her beloved little village of Elora and uses many of these techniques on herself these days…tried and true! Drug of choice!? Synthroid for 26 years.