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Oh, Jackie, Jackie, Jackie…

Post Published: 14 September 2009
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Category: letters from thyroids to patients
This post currently has 18 responses. Leave a comment

letters from thyroids to patients, thyroid disease support

Dear Jackie:

Why are you so mad at me?,  ,   I don’t mean to be bad, it just happens.   You see, I’m crazy. I probably got that way from all the crazy stuff you did when you were younger.   You know, scaring me half to death with gymnastics, skydiving, and staying up all hours of the night when you were in your 20s.   You made me feel old and scared the crap out of me.   I’m mad at you, but I had to deal with all of your craziness, It’s your turn.   Pay back is a bitch, huh?,   I’m sorry.   I didn’t mean to say that.

You know, it’s kind of boring being a gland.   I need to get my kicks somehow.   Everytime you have a blank look on your face, I laugh,   Everytime you swing a mood, your beautiful blue eyes flash and change color almost.   It’s really cool.  ,  ,   My plan was to just mess around a little bit, but sometimes I guess I take it too far.   Nobody’s perfect.   It’s not like I am going to kill you or something.   Geez, give a gland a break.   I don’t act up all the time, besides, I add some excitement into your life.   Imagine, if I was on my best behavior, you wouldn’t have found such great friends both online and off.  

Yeah, yeah, you sent me,  thank you letters, but I don’t really know if you meant it or not.   Maybe you did, maybe you were sarcastic.   Geez, lady, you would think I made you ugly.   Now before you say anything, get those negative thoughts out of your head.   You have three seconds before I throw a “fog” at you.

Ok, that’s better now.   Look at this way… No, no, quit arguing and just let me finish.   If I didn’t act up, you were going to go in the wrong direction.   I HAD to do something.   There was this guy John who was looking all sad and stuff because he didn’t have a woman.   I got you two together, and I didn’t even get an invite to the wedding.   That’s why you spaced out in your vows.   I had to crash it.   I want some fun, too.   Not all the time.   Plus there was all this other stuff that I saw you doing that wasn’t really cool like not having patience with your grandparents and other people.   I made you beautiful inside where it counts. You are welcome.

Sorry about the dancing thing, but you gave yourself one too many concussions due to head injuries doing “death drops” and crap like that.   Besides,   I wanted you to be able to walk without knee and hip replacements when you were in your 50s.   I wanted to save you from all that.   You can still dance a little bit.   Don’t deny it.   I see you doing it.   I messed up your singing voice, too.   But look, it made Astro happy.   You entertain him by singing high until your voice cracks while you bounce him on your knee. He loves it.   I still don’t know where you are getting the strength to bounce a 135 pound,  Great Dane,  on your lap, but you do it,  so don’t lie and say I took all your strength.  

Your husband, John, had a boring life before he met us.   Now he doesn’t know what to expect from one day to the next.   Yeah, he SAYS it drives him crazy, but secretly, when you aren’t looking, I catch him shaking his head and laughing.   You weren’t supposed to know that.   Just keep that between us.   It gives John something to do trying to take care of us.   I did it for him.   I think…Oh, I don’t know why I do the things I do.   He loves those “fog swings” I give you.   You know when you swing a mood, but forget why.   Wow, I made a joke!,   I know John loves them because he goes to work to tell his co-workers about it.   They all get a big kick out of hearing the latest “Jacko” tale.   He gets a little sympathy, and he gets a lot of laughs.   He’s a pretty popular guy now.   How do I know this?,   Oh, simple.   When you are sleeping, I talk to Ty, John’s thyroid.   That rumbling you hear, that’s not John snoring, that’s Ty telling me about John’s day.   He is kind of a loud talker.   Sorry if we wake you sometimes.   We’re just having fun hanging around with each other.

Listen, I’m really sorry…NOT!!!,   Look at it this way, you get to buy new clothes sooner than someone with a normal thyroid, dontcha???,   Anyway, you aren’t THAT big.   I like my girls with meat on their bones.   Although, I just wanted your butt and boobs bigger, not everything else. ,  Oh, well, maybe I can talk to some of the hormones and see what I can work out. Maybe,  I won’t,  take away too much of,  your belly.   Your,  four cats need a warm place to cuddle on.

Ok, ok, I’ll TRY not to make you too sick, but I can’t promise anything.   But you have to give me something, too.   You have to try to accept me for who I am.   I can’t help what I do.   You have to tell all your friends at “Dear Thyroid” to try to make friends with theirs, too.   Also, to those friends who don’t have a thyroid, you have to have a little memorial service for them.   We have feelings too.   We don’t know why we do what we do.   I guess just like people, we can be a little disabled, off, crazy, etc.   I have a lot of fun.   I was going to draw a picture of myself to show you, but my drawing really sucks,  so I’ll describe myself.   I look like a butterfly with devil horns and a little prankster smile and I have a gorgeous British accent.   Can you really hear me, or is it just in your head?,   Just kidding.   You better be able to hear me.  

One important thing I did for you was the fact that I weeded out all the users and losers in your life.   The only ones that are left are your true friends.   Where’s my applause and thank you’s???,   I’m not worried, I’ll get the thanks I deserve from you soon.   I figure you’re still dealing with the changes right now.   But, I have to hand it to you, you are dealing with it better now than you were.   Before, you were wishing I was dead.   Now, you just swear at me a little bit, and it’s not every day anymore, it’s only a few times a week.  

I wrote this letter to you to tell you how I felt and why I do the things I do.   I also wanted your friends at “Dear Thyroid” to get a little chuckle, hopefully.   But I also wanted to tell everyone at “Dear Thyroid” that I’m not such a bad guy.   Although, I can’t speak for all of my fellow glands and glandettes out there,  because there are some rougue glands who just do what they do because they like hurting people.   That’s why Katie has this cool site.

I love ya, kid, you know that.   I know you love me, too.   You just don’t want to admit it.  ,  ,   Is that a hint of a smile I see???,   BUSTED!,   Made you laugh.   Oh, oh.   Here comes a “fog”…Just kidding.  ,   I’ll let you lose another 20 pounds for scaring you like that.   Peace, Babe!,  

Love,

Thymon the Thyroid.

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18 Responses to “Oh, Jackie, Jackie, Jackie…”

  1. fisherwife says:

    Ha! Great post, Jackie. My non-thyrific friends at choir practice do not understand why I bounce back and forth between the alto and soprano section. It’s my old friend, Thylma, giving me a hard time.

    Thanks for sharing.

  2. Kathy says:

    To Jackie’s thyroid, we who hardly even know Jackie, know just what she has been going through with you, and no matter how cute you tried to be in this letter to Jackie, you’re still an ass. We do like Jackie just the way that she is, so you leave her alone now…please! Too bad you don’t have your own little thyroid to mess YOU up!

  3. anita says:

    jackie, you rock. that was awesome. i don’t even want to know what my thyroid has to say. heh.

  4. mike5816 says:

    Dear Thymon,

    You basically said it yourself: “What goes around comes around”, and, “Paybacks are a bitch.”

    You just remember that the next time some doctor comes around with a vial of Iodine-131…

    Ta Ta For Now

  5. J. Davis says:

    My voice fluctuates so much anymore, that even now my 12 year old daughter will say “mom, your voice is funny again – thyroid acting up today?”

  6. Bee says:

    my thyroid and I are no longer on speaking terms–until she figures out a way to get rid of my ass fat!!!!

  7. Zari says:

    a nice letter. My voice came back to normal but my appearance didn’t. A year later I shaved off my beard and took a picture which my family still refers to as the ax murderer picture. By popular request I grew the beard back……..

    Zari

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