Karma’s a Bitch and I Am a Grudge Holder
Please excuse me for not getting back to you sooner. I’ve been busy trying to actually live my life since you decided to throw a monkey wrench into the mix. I’ve been trying to formulate a plan where thyroid sufferers could be afforded unlimited healthcare resources along with a generous monthly stipend so we wouldn’t have to do normal things, like work! Alas, I have been unable to mastermind a plan that would enable us to actually have the time to focus on our illness and recovery.
I mean, it’s only a thyroid problem, right? It’s not like we’ve had traumatic childhood experiences (like my one patient with the darling haircut and designer fingernails who drove a nice car while on disability) or my other patient with a form of cancer that was in remission who tells me about the movies she sees AT A REAL theater or the great shoe sales she finds (because she’s got to fill her days with something, don’t you know?) while waiting for her CPA husband to get home to drive her to their weekend cottage and waiting for her disability check to arrive. Or the patient with the crooked dick (there’s a urological name for it) which made it too uncomfortable for him to work.
I actually tried to pull a fast one on my cardiologist’s nurse last week. I live in the southeast and summer here is the closest experience to living in hell I ever want to have. So I thought I’d nicely request a handicap sticker. In my mind I seemed like a prime candidate. I’d survived double valve replacement surgery, my thyroid is wonky and I’m post menopausal—all of which contribute to a really f’d up internal clock. I could burst into flames at the drop of a hat.
Not to mention the fact that I’m now on Lasix due to that pesky little problem of water retention..remember a couple weeks ago where I made the split-second decision to just show up at my cardiologists’ office without an appointment, because I was either going into heart failure or was having a very bad reaction–feet swelling over shoes, swelling creeping up legs, feet and legs on fire–from that new blood pressure medication? But NOOOOO- the nurse looked me square in the eye and told me I wasn’t old enough for that damn sticker. Excuse me?
Since when does age become a factor in something that could potentially add to my quality of life?! Thought to self: ask the bitch, I mean witch, I mean nurse to spend a day with me. Maybe she could see me navigate the steaming blacktop/concrete while walking like I have a 2×4 up my ass (those thyroid muscle cramps anyone?) Then ask her to help me lather my upper thighs with Boudreaux’s Butt Paste from the chafing I’ve sustained while walking miles to said destination. Or she could wipe me down with an icy cold beach towel while the steam arises from my melting skin.
We’re doomed to suffer, I tell ya. I mean, it’s just thyroid disease. Take a pill. Stop whining. So you, my little gland, or I should say bigger gland as you’ve decided to have a growth spurt, can sit back and laugh behind my back for now. You probably think you’re one up on me in this little game we’re playing. Just remember, karma’s a bitch and I am a grudge holder.
When you’re least expecting it, I plan on launching a full frontal attack and whip you into shape with the massive breasts (beasts) you’ve given me. They aren’t pretty. They aren’t perky. They aren’t what I would’ve chosen if I’d got to pick my own titties. But they’re big and they’re proud. They’re proud, not me. I’m kinda embarrassed by their jiggly parts, truth be told. But they do balance out the massive ass you’ve given me to lug around.
So until we communicate again, I just ask one favor: try to hold off on giving me any more thyroid related issues for a while, PLEASE. I’m exhausted here and am still trying to get over the last symptoms you snuck on me. It’s too hot for me to take my lunch hour naps in the car because as I already informed you, it’s summer in the south. Summer + closed up vehicle = death.
When letter writing was all the rage back in my youth, before PCs, my mother taught me to end my letters with a sincere thought, so here it is: FUCK YOU!!!!
Tags: Dear Thyroid Letters, expense of managing chronic conditions, Health Insurance Issues, health issues related to thyroid disease, healthcare expenses related to thyroid disorders, Karma's A Bitch and I Am A Grudge Holder written by Bee, Thyroid Problems, thyroid symptoms