The Sober Drunkard
(Written by Louise Sopher, Hashimoto’s Patient)
Prior to the last few months I was constantly occupied with either irritating, hilariously irritating (and stupid), then finally, brilliant eventful occasions. I thought it was about time that we both addressed the way in which you made me turn, point and laugh at myself time after time after hilariously stupid time. Oddly I cannot remember each and every stupid and clumsy thing which you made me do not long ago and somewhere between the summer months and the end of hilariously stupid year. Still, let us try, and laugh at what I do remember:
Stupid thing number one: I lost my brand new, literally days old, Prescription Charge Exempt card (which I do actually thank you for as it is a kind gift). Well, let’s not say lost: it fell out of my wallet as I got either in or out of my car just down the road.
Now I believe that this surely must’ve been a hint by you, Thyroid, of how unappreciated you were of having more pills thrown on your head, although you cannot be angry about that considering that they are supposed to help you. And even if it wasn’t, it certainly was some kind of a reaction by you, considering that any other card could’ve dropped out at that moment – any other card. And there were quite a few.
Now, for a minute, let’s cross stupidity with luck: arriving home I was greeted with that unwelcoming “something’s missing” feeling (as if one card less made my wallet lighter!) and, after several checks of pockets and the car floor, arrived upon the conclusion: “I’ve lost a card!” Hoping to go out for a walk anyway, I decided to switch my usual walk for the minimum hour-long walk down the road, whereupon I found myself standing on the pavement aside the spot where I had that morning parked my car. And there it was: the card I’d lost, still sitting, totally unseen by anyone, waiting for me to rescue it from the streets. Cheers.
I had thought I was lucky. I had thought I was brilliantly clever. But that was just the start of it, because, lo and behold – Stupid thing number two: I sent my paychecks back to the people who sent them to me!
Now that really was stupid. And I’m talking unbelievably stupid. Thyroid, you must of been impressed with your clever act, you evil little bugger. You left me to clear that one up on my own. We victims of bullying thyroids must always work hard to clear up their mess. It’s like a kitchen full of boys: they leave a trail of their stomach-insides.
And it didn’t stop there.
Whilst enjoying walking in my absolute favourite field I would keep dropping my water bottle. One minute it would be in my hand, the next it was on the floor and I was shaking my head, dismayed at myself. It was like my hand had forgotten that it was holding something. I mean, what hand forgets why it’s open, tight around a water-bottle? Clumsy or what!
Thyroid, you turned me into a walking, perfectly sober, drunk. I kept spilling water. On the examinations results day I first dropped papers and then flipped my phone several times over before finally dropping it, receiving the comment of “smooth” from a well-observing friend. Working at a summer camp I joined in with a sports game and couldn’t catch a single ball. What a prat! No one trusted me to be on their team again!
Thyroid, thyroid, thyroid, part of me wants to swear that if you dare fall asleep again I will make sure that nothing, changes unless it’s for the good. Nothing. And part of me, if you do that again, wants to scream and shout internally at you – wanna see me when I’m angry? Oh, no, I don’t either!
Yes, thyroid, I know it wasn’t your fault and all that rubbish – it was our immune system gone ruthless; it was your lack of being able to protect yourself…but you know you have to fight sometimes, thyroid? You have to fight.
Look at me, a matter of months ago: I could barely string a sentence together…very little time ago, every now and again, and at the moment, very rarely (please, please don’t let me talk too soon!) I am stalling over my words and going “what was I saying?“. Usually though, when this is happening at the moment it’s because I am thinking so many things at once; because part of me is working, faster than my body can keep up with; however when you, Thyroid, are snoozing away, everything works at a snail’s pace – everything works so slow, in fact, that sentences just don’t quite work so well. What’s that saying – that things never sound as good as they did in your head, do they? Now tell me why people choose to drink when they end up like this?
Now, almost certain that the stupidity and clumsiness was now surely over but still having to tidy up the mistakes of my previous acts (receiving a phone call that a letter I’d sent had been received without a most important document) I was half-excited at a new day and half-angry at myself, and I tried to jump over something (as I quite frequently did) and ended up falling over, dislocating my shoulder. That, I hope, was the end of that.
And good riddance too!
Hoping that you will learn a lesson from your outrageous stupidity,
Your finally perfectly un-drunk outer-casing,
(Bio): Aged 18, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism and I think Hashi’s about a year and a half ago. In May 2009 I saw that the first ever, International Thyroid Awareness Week, brilliant though it was, was barely publicised anywhere except on thyroid-related sites. I created my blog: Small But Mighty: A Thyroid Life with the hope of kicking up some of that awareness for the ‘Thyroid Oblivious’ bunch, as well as offering tips to people who have thyroid disease. On my blog on Everyday Health – Life With A Headless Metabolism I’ve been writing about Changes, and how they spin around, this way and that way, crafty little buggers, wonderful and horrible, all at once.