Dear Thyroid^TM

How do you spell tired?
T – H – Y – R – O – I – D
That’s how you do it.

(Bio) Mike has the nobody-knows-why-type of hypothyroidism for at least the last 9.5 years.  He’s only 36 now, but feels 63.

Dear Thyroid,

So, I’m in the midst of menopause, enjoying the “power surges” as they are a part of life (RIGHT?), working 2 jobs, raising 2 teenagers without the help of the sperm provider who contributed to the other half of their gene pool (I believe he was on girlfriend #4 or 5 at the time) and losing weight. Could I actually be one of “The lucky ones” whose hormones decided to right their wrong in the midst of my incredible stress and help me finally achieve the body I’d always wanted? Life was good and I was enjoying the ride. 

Then, strange things began to happen. You played your game brilliantly, at first, with just enough hints to let me know something was up; but you were subtle enough to stay below the radar while you prepared your full frontal attack. It never dawned on me that my short term memory problem (loss) was your doing. Since I couldn’t personally hear my slurred speech (and my family and co-workers were “kind” enough not to point it out) and ALL thought I was drinking on the job, it didn’t matter. And the too numerous to mention “Shampoo in the fridge, milk in the pantry” episodes were just silly menopausal moments; life continued. Even when my hoarse voice and sore throat prevented me from speaking every night, we still found that silver lining—I was no longer adding incessant commentary during baseball and football games and my husband liked this.

It was easy to ignore the symptoms: The hair loss was taken in stride because I’d been given a head full, and the thinning brows didn’t bother me because I never paid that much attention to them anyway. I was a little concerned at the 4 pubic hairs left on my nether regions, but it worked in my favor because I finally had the bikini body I hadn’t had in ,oh, say, 30 yrs.

Life went on until the day it almost didn’t. Not getting that yet? Let me refresh your memory—

Remember the day I got to work, but wasn’t sure how I MADE IT THERE? I do remember running that curb and almost T-boning that car on the drive in. And Oh, I do remember that my eyelids had been swollen shut that morning (as they had for many, many previous mornings, blamed salt on that problem). When my husband of 1 yr. got me to the doctor, everyone was sure I was having a stroke. My BP 195/110 on meds. I had that glazed, dazed and totally confused look on my face when someone was speaking. “Dr., is that you????” I tried to speak, but, alas, only Dr. Spock would’ve understood as it all sounded like Vulcan. Short version: TSH of 40, severe hypothyroidism. Guess you forgot to consult my heart when you decided to run rampant through my innards, you know, you both could’ve possibly worked out a better game to play TOGETHER as you were sharing the same body. Remember those two valves we had to replace in the “Main engine’ (my heart) back in ‘00? You, my new nemesis, couldn’t have brought heart palpitations to a worse patient.

So, no driving for 2 weeks, which meant no work, no paycheck. Take this pill and your world will be A-OK. Are you kiddin’ me? I dutifully took “The pill” and watched in amazement as my body began morphing into someone I had yet to meet. As the weight began piling on, you forgot to tell my pancreas and liver to just relax and give the body some time to adjust.

Here’s a hint, you all need some better internal communication. By the time you inflated me to 60 pounds in 4 months, my liver was a quiverin’ and my pancreas was a kickin’ my ample ass. I had no idea how freaked out doctors could get when they had to deal with one patients out-of-whack lab results every time they were reviewed.

One month, it was the cardiac labs askew, then the liver decided to get cranky, pancreas comes and goes. Not wanting to be left out, the bowels enlarge and return to normal. They had to take their turn, too. I am hoping that we can come to some kind of resolution soon where we learn to get along.

In the interim, you may want to review your own role in giving a patient his/her symptoms. My research has informed me that hypothyroidism should cause weight gain, fatigue, dry skin, you know the drill. And hyperthyroidism should do just the opposite. I don’t mean to be telling you how to do your job or anything, but since you’ve already screwed around with me like the ultimate science experiment, I’m here to inform you that you’ve also given me ALL the hypothyroid symptoms when my TSH was in the hyperthyroid range, along with some of the hyperthyroid symptoms as well.

Geez, no offense or anything, but you must’ve been standing in the back of the line when they were passing out instructions to you thyroid glands on how to fuck up a person’s life. You’re an embarrassment to your gland!!! You, my gland, seem to want to play the “Dumber” role in the “Dumb and Dumber” game of life.

So, even though I am presently in the way low hyper TSH range, I’m bloated and gassy and as irritable as a hooker on a nickel night. I’m also getting a very strong urge to howl at the moon; possibly because I find it intriguing to wake at 2:14 am SHARP.

And thanks for that great moustache you’ve given me; I’m a girl, by the way. Maybe you could ask your hair follicle friends to send a little love to the pubic region. And since we’re discussing strange symptoms and your active role in them; what’s with the sweating? Could you possibly tell the sweat glands to try spewing juice from the arm pits instead of my head, neck, chest and ass? I would find it much easier to explain to the concerned citizens in my circle about armpit sweat instead of the sweat pouring buckets down my face. They all want to rush my ass to the ER and I’ve seen enough of doctors to last a lifetime—Thanks but no thanks.

I’d really love to say; “See you later, sucka”, but knowing your inability to comprehend the normal order of life’s events-and realizing that I’ve been given the only thyroid gland with bipolar disorder and ADHD, I’ll sign off by saying: See ya sooner AND later!

Billie

PS- Maybe you could talk it over with some of my skin cells and have them put a big welt across my forehead that reads; “I’ve got a glandular condition”. It would save me a lot of energy trying to explain my present appearance.

(Bio) 57 y/o female with a zest for life when I’m not zesting for a nap or retirement or a trim figure or a large disposable income; also, a 57 y/o female who abhors people feeling sorry for me, but adores people who want to rub my feet.

Dear Thyroid,

Do you realize what you are doing to me? I am in my mid-twenties, but because of you, I have to take a nap each day like a 3-year-old. Every day I try to do my best at school but it seems like I just can’t seem to concentrate for more than 10 minutes. Thanks for making me feel like an idiot. And what about chocolate? You know how I like chocolate, but just looking at it makes me gain 2 pounds.

I have been dealing with you for a long time without even knowing it. A few months ago, I actually thought I was just fat and tired. And now I know that I am sick. It is kind of a relief, because I can fight those, and the many other symptoms, but I am constantly reminded of you.

Every day I wake up knowing that I am sick and that I will be sick for the rest of my life. As frustrating as that is, there is something worse, that has nothing to do with you, dear thyroid, for a change—

It’s the way people react when I tell them about my disease. A few have been very supportive, and, I especially want to thank @ThyroidMary for her help and support here. Most people told me that I finally have found an excuse for being fat and lazy. Isn’t that nice?

I am helping you, my dear thyroid, now by taking the meds you and I need to go through this. And how do you thank me for that? You are turning me into a manic depressive insomniac. I have seen more doctors in the past few weeks than in my whole life before. I had to get all the information on what´s wrong with you on my own.

I did all this to make sure we get along. So could you do something for me for a change? Please let me go back to the person I was before you and I got sick. Please, just give me back my life.

(Bio) My name is Christina Hütten and I am 25 years old.I got diagnosed with Hashimotos disease two weeks ago, but I have been dealing with it for a long time before that and there is almost nothing left of my thyroid.

This week’s Marco Thylo is thyperimenirific. We’ve partnered with Mary Shomon for our first official Thygraph contest. The winners will receive a free copy of Mary’s new book, “The Menopause Thyroid Solution”. And, and, and, Mary will be choosing the winners! Wait, it gets better—Because Mary values humor as much as we do at Dear Thyroid, she’s going to give away two additional books to the two funniest entries as well.

I know what you’re thinking, Dear Thyroid, get your shit together. You’ve been hocking a Thygraph contest for ages. Yes, I know. Believe it or not, I can be one thymentiarella from hella. Don’t hate the playa, yo, hate the roid.

Here’s the dish on the contest:

We are looking for two types of Thygraph submissions:

Thyperimenarellas (Dames going through thyroid perimenopause)

Thymenirellas (Dames going through thyroid menopause)

In 500 words or less, submit Thygraphs that speak to some aspect of thyroid or “Gee, is this thyroid”, perimenopause and, or menopause, dishing it up as you see fit; edgy, irreverent, sad, or funny, you know how we do on Dear Thyroid, anything goes.

A few ideas to get your thyliterary juices flowing: Wacky periods, non-existent sex-drive, weight gain, sleep problems, moodiness, hot flashes, night sweats, anything that you’re experiencing that feels thyroid perimenopause-ee or menopause-ish. Get it? Got it? Great!

Submit all your Thyrgraphs to Dearthyroid@gmail.com. In the subject line write “Perimenopause Submission” or “Menopause Submission”. We will post each Thygraph we receive on Thursday, October 8^th. The winner will be announced on Thursday, October 15^th.

To find out more about The Menopause Thyroid Solution, check out Menopause Thyroid, the companion website.

Onto this week’s Dear Thyroid searches and yes, there is a trend:

1. Hi ass— Hi Prick Pie.
2. Pin up sodas— Yes, our pin up dames are quite refreshing in that rehydrating kind of way, aren’t they? Conversely, if this is our resident cannibalarella, I’m surprised you didn’t search for “Thyroid pin up soda recipes”.
3. “Public option”— As in health care? We’re all waiting with baited breath. I don’t think thyroid disease patients and autoimmune disease patients, et al., would feel blue about reduced medical expenses and affordable scrip’s for medications, would they?
4. Inserting base ball bat in asses— As a means to treat a thyroid psychotic? Or as a non-surgical procedure for thyroidectomies? Or just for kicks?
5. Thyroid, self esteem— As if, newbie. The two ain’t synonymous (at least in my case). We’ve also come up on this search a few times.
6. Saturday night special Annie Sprinkle—WORD. Annie Sprinkle is one of my favorite people. She is the epitome of reinventing oneself by one’s own design. She’s one hell of a dame and very inspiring. All of that being said, I’m not sure how a search for Annie led to Dear Thyroid, but I can tell ya this, I am superty honored that it did.
7. Graves disease mental fuck— No shit.

A new Tales From Thyietnam with special guest, Kairol Rosenthal, Thyroid cancer patient, thyroid cancer patient advocate and author of the book, “Everything Changes” will be out shortly. We apologize, I apologize for the delay.

If you missed our first installation of Tales From Thyietnam with special guest, Mary Shomon, you simply must download it.

Do not forget to enter the Perimenopause and Menopause Thygraph contest, which begins riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight NOW. Write. Write. Write.

Love,

Katie