DEAR THYROID, I'M IN A CONUNDRUM, WE NEED TO DISH

Dear Thyroid;

How are you? That's kind of rhetorical. However, I do appreciate your time. So, there's that; my approach. Respectful right?

Lemme tell ya, doll, it ain't easy. At the minute, you have me so freaked out, I don't know if I'm on spin or rinse.

Let's recap, shall we? I've released some of my anger towards you, not a lot mind you, but enough for now. Until I can control you, instead of you controlling me, I think we're in for a roller coasteree relationship.

At present, you won't stay balanced and nobody can tell me why. Your Graves' ophthalmology isn't getting better. 4-years of swollen eyelids and questionable vision that can't be controlled with corrective lenses, compounded by conflicting opinions, compounded by susceptibility to retina damage and my own fear of, heaven forbid, the "S" word (surgery), if, if, if I can't get you under control has left me, well, reeling.

I'm scared of you. I don't know how to create a symbiotic relationship between us.

As a last ditch effort, I did quite a bit of research and found a reputable endocrinology unit in a prominent hospital quite close to me. I emailed the head of endocrinology and medicine. I didn't think he'd email me back, really I didn't. But, he did. We had a lovely email exchange and 30-minutes later his secretary called me to schedule an appointment. I'm seeing him in November.

Let me be clear. I am not hopeful. I am open. Getting us into his office will be an overwhelming challenge in itself. I am equal parts confident that I will not settle for hmm'ng and haw'ng and that I will walk-in armed with my records and a list of questions that I expect to be answered. By the same right, I know I'll be terrified of yet another opinion that yields questionable results.

This brings me to another issue. My records. Accumulating them from all of my various doctors is proving to be a lot more challenging than I expected. The most important doctor I need my records from isn't releasing everything. I know I can call the AMA. I know I can get a lawyer to get my records for me- I'm astutely aware of my options. What worries me, truth be told, is that he fucked up and that's why he's not releasing them. See, I think I know where he fucked up. I just don't know to the degree.

So, dear thyroid, I guess we'll just wait and see what happens, won't we? God willing, someone will be able to get you under control. Otherwise, I am nominating you for cunt of the year.

Loving/Hating you,

Katie

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3 Comments:

Blogger Freida Bee said...

Oh, oh, tempting your thyroid with the prized honor of Cunt of the Year is bold, tempting fate.... I like it.

This letter rekindled a frustration that I have with my Mr. T.

I pity the withered fool.

November 24, 2008 at 6:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Missing medical records and stupid medical calls are a common theme here. That sucks.

January 4, 2009 at 10:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

As the sufferer of a severly hyperthyriod until the age of 26... when it was removed to keep from killing me (I was 83 lbs. at the time), and then a roller coaster of hypothyroid drugs that worked for 4-6 weeks at a time for about 14 years... adding over 100 lbs to my slight frame... knee issues, thinning hair, brain fog, and continual exhaustion...
I wish I had thought to write a letter to my thyroid... I surely have a few choice things to say... *reaching for a pen*... and I'm gonna let the missing weasel of a body part know exactly how I feel about it.
Thanks, it was hard to target all these feelings... and all the while the target was a simple as could be - the offender itself. Genius!

January 19, 2009 at 8:51 PM  

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