When this post gets published online, I’ll be sitting in the doctor’s office, getting the results of my bloodwork to figure out why my thyroid is so insanely overactive. I’ll likely leave with a barrage of medication that I’ll be on for the rest of my life.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling the ramifications of my new-found health problem. My apartment remains in a mess because my body is too exhausted to put everything away. My feet are still numb and currently bleeding, since I’ve stubbed my big toe for the fifth time in two days because I can’t tell when they’re touching something. My hand tremor remains, taking the pleasure of eating, drinking, and writing away. I have hot flashes that rival a middle-aged woman in the throws of menopause. I’ve had to sit on the floor while shopping in stores because I’m on the brink of fainting and my heart is racing and jumping into my throat. Last night, I couldn’t sleep because the sound of my manic heart was pumping in my ears so loudly it was deafening.
I can’t help but cruise the Internet for answers to my symptoms. The doctors said either cancer or Grave’s Disease, and neither is an appealing option. I’ve been researching both in ways I know I shouldn’t, and my family is no stranger to cancer so I can’t help but worry. We only need to read A Time To Shout to know what my fellow blogger goes through (Elana, you are amazing, by the way. I am in awe of the grace in which you deal with your illness.). Grave’s Disease scares me too since there is no cure and everything I read about it says ‘quality of life is often significantly reduced’. Oh boy. And although it may sound insignificant to some, my serious knee problem has already significantly reduced my quality of life – no squatting, no lunging, no skiing, no swimming, no running, no jogging, no hiking. All the things I used to love are no longer possible for me. Even now, my energy level relegates me to my couch.
But there are high points to all of this. I am alive. I’m still laughing. I’m still writing. I have a new job to look forward to. A fantastic apartment in an even more fantastic city. I have so much to look forward to, while so many others are not as lucky.
So cross your fingers for me, readers. I hope this doctor is on his A-game tomorrow.