Thursday, June 5, 2014

Itching to Get This Over!

I am writing this post a week before my surgery. I am scheduling it to be posted the very day I willingly allow a complete stranger (Virtually. I stalked her on Facebook first, of course) to slit my throat.

In March this year, I suddenly began experiencing some very strange health issues -- issues no one of my exceptional youth and vigor should experience.  OK, not really, but they were very sudden and nothing I'd ever come up against. Prior to this, I'd taken my blood pressure -- usually somewhere between low and lower -- only to find it was through the roof! I hadn't been exercising the way I should, probably not eating properly either; it'll pass, right? It didn't. Further symptoms came on like gangbusters (idk, it's a phrase my mother used to use -- I assume gangbusters are pretty quick and invasive) Time to go.

After a considerable amount of poking and pricking, I was diagnosed with Graves Disease. Graves is an autoimmune disorder that strictly affects the thyroid gland, causing hyperthyroidism. OK, so the thyroid, which controls metabolism works harder. Half the free world is looking to speed up their metabolism, right? This couldn't be a bad thing.

Wrong. Heart palpitations, shortness of breath, tremors so bad that putting my contacts in was like coaxing Miley Cyrus to wear some clothes. The itching! The itching was that kind of itching you get the minute somebody mentions head lice. Yeah, that kind of itching. Night sweats, trouble sleeping, blurred vision and dry eyes, swollen legs, and diarrhea. Of course, diarrhea. What pox on humanity is complete without it? As a result, I shed 30 of those unwanted LBs, however, they were all muscle. If I'm not mistaken, health officials usually tell you to prevent that. Did I mention the itching?

So, here I am, months later taking medication to control the symptoms -- better life through chemistry -- and awaiting surgery. I truly want to thank an amazing endocrinologist, Dr. Eugena Wright and, so far, my surgeon, Dr. Donelle Rhoads. If things don't turn out as planned, you might wanna just scratch that last thank you.

I'll keep you posted! Did I mention the itching?!

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