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Thyridiocy

Post Published: 31 July 2009
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Category: Dear Thyroid Letters
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Dear Thyroid,

I am so, so, sorry!   I am oh so sorry that it took me so long to throw your lazy ass out of my body!,   That’s right.   You heard me.   Like all women in a bad relationship, I didn’t see the signs.   Didn’t see the seriousness of the problem.   Knew something was wrong, but just believed we could work it out.   Man did you make me feel like a giant thyridiot.

What signs you say?,   How about the random 20lbs my senior year of high school?,   Or the 30 extra slapped on in 3 months my sophomore year of college.   Oh yes, we went to professionals, tried to seek out help.   And what did that lead to?,   That it was “all my fault… ,  ,

So, I figured I would work harder.   Run a little faster, lift a little more.   How was I supposed to know that it was you; you that had changed; mutated in fact to be an unruly cancer, protruding on my from my neck, like the fat lazy blob you were.   I should have known you were different when all signs indicated you weren’t doing your job.   It only took me a week to throw you out once I found out about you.   Best decision, EVER.   No mercy.   And then, after our little break up, to find out that you had been, “getting around”; penetrating other parts of my neck, turning my lymph nodes against me, wrapping your cancerous self around my vocal nerves.   Well let’s just say, that hasn’t won you any brownie points.

And then, like every bitter and jaded partner, you keep trying to come back into my life!,   Seriously, what’s up with that!,   I dumped you; I left you.   Sure, I’ve had my moments where I miss you; remember the good life we used to share before everything went wrong; long for the days where I didn’t need pills to keep me going.   But at this point I’ve thrown about 500 mCi of radiation at you and two surgeries; TAKE A HINT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!

Oh, and way to botch my credit score with your bills and distract me from my school work.   And my social life; or lack thereof?,   You must be so proud of yourself scaring off men, making my friends be awkward and shy away.   You make me feel like I can’t be the strong, independent woman I am; like I always need support.   Yeah, I really appreciated that.

But like all good hearted women, I seem to be taking you back for now.   Letting you keep a few small cells in the base of my neck for storage.   As long as you don’t think this is an opportunity for you to weasel your way back into my life; a chance for further growth, they can stay.   But I’m watching.   I’m watching with hawk eyes that you don’t make any further plays for my other lymph nodes.   I know how vulnerable and innocent they are.

Now I fretted and debated about how to write this letter.   It’s been sitting on my desktop for almost a month now.   Oh, how much I would love the chance to get to see you and poke you with a sharp stick.   Get some answers out of you as to why you decided to go and completely fuck around with my life. ,  I had plans.   I had dreams.   I had goals.   And none of them had to do with you.   I refuse to accept you as a barrier; you are no more than a really big speed bump.   I refuse to be defined by you, as I am my own person.   I now have new plans, dreams and goals, and you my friend, a merely a blip on the radar that is my life.   I grow tired of this thyridiocy, and I bid you adieu.

As Always,

-robs

(Bio),  At 26, Robin Belinsky, has survived multiple counts of papillary thyroid cancer, law school, and life in general.   She was first diagnosed in 2005, and now writes about her experience w/ thyca on her blog, Death by Lettuce.

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3 Responses to “Thyridiocy”

  1. Great GREAT letter Robs.

    Step on up to the punchbowl, it’s pledge week here at the Krappa Krappa Glanda thyroidority!

  2. Robs says:

    Thanks Mary!

    Fill my glass and let the hazing begin! Wooo KKG!

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