Disclaimer: If you know me and my family, then you know that my husband is quite private. Please do not tell him about this post. He claims to read my blog (I know he's lying), but this post is about him and we had an agreement I wouldn't post anything about him, so...I haven't included his name.
I met my husband in Iraq. I was broken. I doubt people could see it from the outside, but I was heartbroken, sad, and confused. I was with this one guy before I left to go to Iraq that I loved, it didn't last. I reconnected with another guy while I was in Iraq and it seemed promising, but I was so drawn to this man that I married, that all sense of logic just flew out of the window. He could see right through me. When he walked in the room my heart smiled. I knew he was my husband. I knew he was the father of my children and I couldn't understand a damn thing he was saying (he's from Jamaica originally).
A week after I got home from Iraq, he asked for my hand in marriage. Two weeks after I was home, I moved from California to Florida to be with him. A year later we were married. My husband was just a reservist when we met. He had no plans of going Active Duty in the Army, but I was always sick (undiagnosed Hashimoto's). His job paid quite well, but he had no medical benefits and my job, at the time, had the worse medical plan known to man, so he did what some men do, he changed his life around in order for me to be healthy and joined the military full-time so I could have medical care. Not many people know that and he would never admit it either.
The years after were good and bad, but the worse came after we lost our first child. I didn't think I could have children. I was told when I was 18 years old that my chances of having children were very small because I only ovulated twice or three times a year (Hashimoto's). We got pregnant on the first try of fertility drugs and lost her at 14 weeks. I remember how he looked at me when we couldn't find the heartbeat. It was like he wanted to protect me and couldn't and then the anger set in for both of us. Miscarriage is hard on a marriage. It took a year for us to get back on track and then we found out that we were pregnant again (without fertility drugs) and we fought like hell. I think we would fight because we both couldn't take another loss. I know it's crazy, but after we had Ms. O, we felt complete. My husband would sing to himself for days and the smile on his face when he looked at her would melt my heart. Our son, Mr. D., almost 3 years later, was just icing on the cake.
Is it a love story? Probably not in the sense that most people see it, but I started to think about us after I saw something on Facebook. It was a status about what type of wife are you and how after 18 years of marriage a woman still dresses up and goes on dates with her husband, which I think is awesome, but the comments underneath the status are what got me to thinking about my marriage and one in particular was to the effect of, 'what you won't do, another woman will, so keep yourself looking good and keep the marriage together'. If my marriage would have been built on this, then he would have left me a long time ago. It got me to thinking about a conversation I had with one of my girlfriends and her telling a friend to choose her husband by picking the one who loves her enough to give her an enema. I laughed until I almost choked, but she's right.
I didn't find love in the perfect setting. I have never been well in our marriage. I have had bouts of great health, but since my husband has known me, I have always had some type of medical issue. Last year, there were days that I had to wait until he got home to take a shower and no I did not comb my hair. He has seen me at my worse and the love in his eyes has never changed. He has held my hand through procedures. He has listened to my fears. When I picked him up a few days ago from the airport with 4 braids in my hair, a sweatshirt, slippers and sweat pants, he simply took my hand and helped me to the other side of the car with the same love in his eyes. He had just took emergency leave to be by my side. He had just been in the field. I knew he was tired, but the first thing out of his mouth was, "how do you feel" and "have you had anything to eat".
I haven't had the pleasure (especially recently) of living a fairytale. My journey hasn't allowed it, but I am thankful that I found someone who loves my soul. Through sickness and in health - the vows mean something to people still. I am so very thankful to my husband for being by my side. He is my soul mate. He is the love of my life. I never thought I would be so lucky to have someone to see me through the good and the bad. We aren't perfect. We still get on each other's nerves, but when it counts, we are each other's rock. I couldn't do it without him. I really couldn't because he pays the bills.
Love in my opinion cannot be defined. It is so many different things to many different people. I had a hope when I got married and it was to have what my grandparents had. I firmly believed that my parents "loved" each other (they are now divorced), but I had the feeling that my grandparents were committed and bonded to one another. They were married until my grandfather passed away and my grandmother has never remarried. They didn't seem like strangers that met once. They seemed like family. I told the marriage counselor (yes, we've been to counseling) that my husband was like family, like a piece of me. It's true, he is my other half. I don't want this disease to take me from him any more than it already has. I am hopeful my coming surgery will give us some normalcy, but for now I am appreciative and in love, fully committed.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Step 1: Speaking to the Surgeon
I went to the surgeon yesterday. I woke emotional that morning. It was my first official day of being home from my trip to California. Things didn't seem to be falling in place. My kids didn't seem to want to wake up. My husband was in the field. How could I remove them from their beds after such a long trip. I wanted to cancel the appointment. I wanted this situation to just stop.
I finally made it to my appointment. I was nervous. I don't get nervous, but I was shaken up. I still don't get where all these emotions are coming from. Anyway, I notice that I am the only one in the office alone. I hate the Army sometimes. The Army always seems to get in the way of the most important moments when I absolutely need my husband by my side.
Dr. S (the surgeon) is his name. He has kind eyes and soft hands. He is freakishly tall and completely bald. He doesn't smile as he holds my gaze. I instantly want to cry. I get in my head and tell myself to hold it together. How dare I pick this time to start feeling sorry for myself.
Dr. S begins to explain the surgery. He makes a comment about it being a good thing I was thin because he will be able to get to my thyroid and see what he's working with. He explains that my thyroid is close to my parathyroid, which helps with calcium and that sometimes it is inside of the thyroid, so we have to be careful. He then tells me the nerves for my voice box are also in the area and I begin to cry. He and his kind eyes look at me. He touches my shoulder, goes out of the room and comes back with a box of tissues. He looks as if he is going to cry and then I feel bad because he is one of those men who can't stand to see a woman cry. He suggest that he just draw a diagram of the whole thing, but I stop him and tell him that I want him to go into detail. I want him to tell me everything.
He places my thick folder behind him on the counter and says to me, "Do you know why you're here". I want to start crying again, but this time I hold it together. He goes on to say, "You've got this nodule on the right side of your thyroid. The pathologist cannot say for sure if it's benign because he needs more tissue. You need this surgery to rule out cancer. It is scary. You have a right to be upset. We are worried (me and your Endocrinologist) about follicular cancer. The pathologist will be in the room and test the nodule because it takes 3-5 days to get a report on the part of the thyroid we will be removing and if cancer is present we will have to remove the whole thyroid"
Me: Why don't we just remove the whole thyroid anyway.
Dr. S: Well, I'm pretty sure that this issue is what has been making you sick. If we take out the whole thing then you may have to go on a pill for the rest of your life.
Me: I'm already on that pill for the rest of my life.
Dr. S: Why? (looking in my folder again)
Me: I have Hashimoto's. Is it an insurance issue as to why you can't remove the whole thing? I would like to break up with my thyroid please. Can you make that happen?
Dr. S: (laughs) Were you in the Military?
Me: Yes, how can you tell?
Dr. S: I can tell and it's a good thing. (He sighs) We can't remove the whole thyroid because of Hashimoto's, but your doctor and I will discuss it. Do you work?
Me: No, I'm a stay at-home mom. I have two small children and my husband is in the field.
Dr. S: When can you do the surgery?
Me: ASAP.
The surgery is scheduled for the 27th of July. I'm scared out of my mind. I've had a few surgeries in my life and this one has me shaken to my core.
I finally made it to my appointment. I was nervous. I don't get nervous, but I was shaken up. I still don't get where all these emotions are coming from. Anyway, I notice that I am the only one in the office alone. I hate the Army sometimes. The Army always seems to get in the way of the most important moments when I absolutely need my husband by my side.
Dr. S (the surgeon) is his name. He has kind eyes and soft hands. He is freakishly tall and completely bald. He doesn't smile as he holds my gaze. I instantly want to cry. I get in my head and tell myself to hold it together. How dare I pick this time to start feeling sorry for myself.
Dr. S begins to explain the surgery. He makes a comment about it being a good thing I was thin because he will be able to get to my thyroid and see what he's working with. He explains that my thyroid is close to my parathyroid, which helps with calcium and that sometimes it is inside of the thyroid, so we have to be careful. He then tells me the nerves for my voice box are also in the area and I begin to cry. He and his kind eyes look at me. He touches my shoulder, goes out of the room and comes back with a box of tissues. He looks as if he is going to cry and then I feel bad because he is one of those men who can't stand to see a woman cry. He suggest that he just draw a diagram of the whole thing, but I stop him and tell him that I want him to go into detail. I want him to tell me everything.
He places my thick folder behind him on the counter and says to me, "Do you know why you're here". I want to start crying again, but this time I hold it together. He goes on to say, "You've got this nodule on the right side of your thyroid. The pathologist cannot say for sure if it's benign because he needs more tissue. You need this surgery to rule out cancer. It is scary. You have a right to be upset. We are worried (me and your Endocrinologist) about follicular cancer. The pathologist will be in the room and test the nodule because it takes 3-5 days to get a report on the part of the thyroid we will be removing and if cancer is present we will have to remove the whole thyroid"
Me: Why don't we just remove the whole thyroid anyway.
Dr. S: Well, I'm pretty sure that this issue is what has been making you sick. If we take out the whole thing then you may have to go on a pill for the rest of your life.
Me: I'm already on that pill for the rest of my life.
Dr. S: Why? (looking in my folder again)
Me: I have Hashimoto's. Is it an insurance issue as to why you can't remove the whole thing? I would like to break up with my thyroid please. Can you make that happen?
Dr. S: (laughs) Were you in the Military?
Me: Yes, how can you tell?
Dr. S: I can tell and it's a good thing. (He sighs) We can't remove the whole thyroid because of Hashimoto's, but your doctor and I will discuss it. Do you work?
Me: No, I'm a stay at-home mom. I have two small children and my husband is in the field.
Dr. S: When can you do the surgery?
Me: ASAP.
The surgery is scheduled for the 27th of July. I'm scared out of my mind. I've had a few surgeries in my life and this one has me shaken to my core.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
The beginning of a break-up
I woke up yesterday morning with fear. I took my children to our neighborhood pool to distract myself from the fear. I wanted to enjoy them and them to enjoy me before what I knew was coming later in the afternoon. I came back home to get ready for my 1:30 p.m. appointment and fear set in while I showered. My husband came in the bathroom and looked me in the eye as if willing me to keep going and be strong.
I got in the car and drove the 30 minutes to the best Endocrinologist I have met to date. Dr. O. is a life saver, but his staff sucks. I told him his staff sucked on my last visit and he told me he would fix the problem, but I knew the problem still existed.
I had a biopsy done in April and here it was June and I had never heard from his office. I knew I should have called, but I was feeling so much better and I didn't want to hear any bad news, so I let the incompetence of his staff prolong my blissful ignorance. No news is good news, right? WRONG!
I heard the doctor in the hall asking to speak to his head nurse. The walls are thin, so I heard everything he said to her. He told her that it was unacceptable, that not only had I not been given my results, but that the results were not even in the office. They (his staff) didn't even have the pathology report for the doctor to review. In their defense, Dr. O. is not apart of the network here, so his computer system does not communicate with the hospitals that do the testing. All of the labs and paper work must be sent to him in a hard copy and the hospitals neglect to do that sometimes, but according to Dr. O., that is not an excuse for not even having the results in the office on the day of my appointment. He's right and after reprimanding his staff, he came in to greet me and apologized for the situation.
While we were discussing "normal" thyroid business, the nurse came in with the pathology report and the doctor, even more visibly upset, looks at me in my eyes and says, "your pathology report has not changed Mrs. H. It (the nodule on my thyroid) is not benign. There is a presence of follicular carcinoma. My advice is still the same as when you came to me for your second opinion from the other doctor. We should remove part of the thyroid that contains the nodule and if we find cancer, a total thyroidectomy will be done". I interrupt him at this point because I wasn't sure if he just told me that I had thyroid cancer. Our dialogue was as follows:
Me: Are you telling me I have thyroid cancer?
Dr. O: The pathologist cannot rule out malignancy, but the cells within the nodule are not benign.
Me: Wait, so what does that mean exactly, because my first endocrinologist said to me that the report basically meant that I didn't have cancer.
Dr. O: (with a grimace) Mrs. H., if you were my wife, I would tell you to remove this nodule immediately. Your previous doctor wanted to monitor it and take the chance that it was not cancerous. You are young, you have very young children, and I don't want to risk this being something serious. It has not shrunk nor will it ever shrink because it is not a goiter (my first doctor told me thyroid medication would make it shrink). The only way to rule out thyroid cancer is to remove the part of your thyroid that has the nodule and dissect it to see if it is in fact cancer. Carcinoma is cancer. Please remember, Mrs. H. that there are other nodules in your thyroid that are too small to test. You need to consider surgery.
Me: Okay, let's take it out.
I must express that I am not easily moved with emotion. After this appointment, I went to see a friend in the park very close to the endocrinologist' office. I was a ball of emotion, but I know she was not able to tell. When I got home, my husband knew something was wrong because I was silent. I don't like breaking down and any talking was liable to make the waterworks happen. Of course, him knowing me,found a project for us to do. I had mentioned to him the previous day that the vibe in my daughter's room was off and we needed to rearrange her furniture (why, yes, I am one of THOSE people), so that's what we did while I explained my doctor's appointment to him. I must say, it is awesome to share your life with someone who knows you and doesn't press you to be something you are not. Anyway, he's not a talker either, but later on in the night he got quite angry. He wanted to make a complaint about the delay in receiving my results and said that with the economy being as bad as it is, "you would think people would do their damn job". Poor thing, he has no one to blame for this, but the nurses and although he has a point, I believe things happen as they are meant to happen.
I am truly scared. I need a moment to process a few things. The biggest issue is that I have to wait for my insurance to approve that I actually need surgery and that upsets me a bit. I can't process feeling like everyone else does and it takes me a few days. I guess I feel betrayed by my body. I was under the impression that I was rounding the corner on this journey and could visibly see the finish line, but now I have to buy some new shoes and keep going...
I got in the car and drove the 30 minutes to the best Endocrinologist I have met to date. Dr. O. is a life saver, but his staff sucks. I told him his staff sucked on my last visit and he told me he would fix the problem, but I knew the problem still existed.
I had a biopsy done in April and here it was June and I had never heard from his office. I knew I should have called, but I was feeling so much better and I didn't want to hear any bad news, so I let the incompetence of his staff prolong my blissful ignorance. No news is good news, right? WRONG!
I heard the doctor in the hall asking to speak to his head nurse. The walls are thin, so I heard everything he said to her. He told her that it was unacceptable, that not only had I not been given my results, but that the results were not even in the office. They (his staff) didn't even have the pathology report for the doctor to review. In their defense, Dr. O. is not apart of the network here, so his computer system does not communicate with the hospitals that do the testing. All of the labs and paper work must be sent to him in a hard copy and the hospitals neglect to do that sometimes, but according to Dr. O., that is not an excuse for not even having the results in the office on the day of my appointment. He's right and after reprimanding his staff, he came in to greet me and apologized for the situation.
While we were discussing "normal" thyroid business, the nurse came in with the pathology report and the doctor, even more visibly upset, looks at me in my eyes and says, "your pathology report has not changed Mrs. H. It (the nodule on my thyroid) is not benign. There is a presence of follicular carcinoma. My advice is still the same as when you came to me for your second opinion from the other doctor. We should remove part of the thyroid that contains the nodule and if we find cancer, a total thyroidectomy will be done". I interrupt him at this point because I wasn't sure if he just told me that I had thyroid cancer. Our dialogue was as follows:
Me: Are you telling me I have thyroid cancer?
Dr. O: The pathologist cannot rule out malignancy, but the cells within the nodule are not benign.
Me: Wait, so what does that mean exactly, because my first endocrinologist said to me that the report basically meant that I didn't have cancer.
Dr. O: (with a grimace) Mrs. H., if you were my wife, I would tell you to remove this nodule immediately. Your previous doctor wanted to monitor it and take the chance that it was not cancerous. You are young, you have very young children, and I don't want to risk this being something serious. It has not shrunk nor will it ever shrink because it is not a goiter (my first doctor told me thyroid medication would make it shrink). The only way to rule out thyroid cancer is to remove the part of your thyroid that has the nodule and dissect it to see if it is in fact cancer. Carcinoma is cancer. Please remember, Mrs. H. that there are other nodules in your thyroid that are too small to test. You need to consider surgery.
Me: Okay, let's take it out.
I must express that I am not easily moved with emotion. After this appointment, I went to see a friend in the park very close to the endocrinologist' office. I was a ball of emotion, but I know she was not able to tell. When I got home, my husband knew something was wrong because I was silent. I don't like breaking down and any talking was liable to make the waterworks happen. Of course, him knowing me,found a project for us to do. I had mentioned to him the previous day that the vibe in my daughter's room was off and we needed to rearrange her furniture (why, yes, I am one of THOSE people), so that's what we did while I explained my doctor's appointment to him. I must say, it is awesome to share your life with someone who knows you and doesn't press you to be something you are not. Anyway, he's not a talker either, but later on in the night he got quite angry. He wanted to make a complaint about the delay in receiving my results and said that with the economy being as bad as it is, "you would think people would do their damn job". Poor thing, he has no one to blame for this, but the nurses and although he has a point, I believe things happen as they are meant to happen.
I am truly scared. I need a moment to process a few things. The biggest issue is that I have to wait for my insurance to approve that I actually need surgery and that upsets me a bit. I can't process feeling like everyone else does and it takes me a few days. I guess I feel betrayed by my body. I was under the impression that I was rounding the corner on this journey and could visibly see the finish line, but now I have to buy some new shoes and keep going...
Monday, June 11, 2012
Have I become a stalker?
I spent most of my day today reading a blog. I can't even imagine myself sitting still to read a very long book about someones life, let alone a blog, but I have spent the majority of my day reading and I feel better for it.
I came across this wonderful man's story because he was kind enough to follow my blog. I was excited to see a 3rd follower and his name Hypo Man, let me know that he wasn't on my blog for the food tips, but was a fellow sufferer. I was expecting a blog of medical jargon, symptoms, and post of self-acceptance. What I actually found was humor, honesty, and enlightenment.
His honesty touched me in ways that I can't express and I am forever thankful because I am not very honest most times about how I feel. I don't often think that others care. I feel like they get tired of hearing me complain about how bad I feel. When I am sick, I crawl into my cave (my home) and shut everyone out. But, why? Why am I unable to share my feelings? Why do I sometimes resent those who have read my blog. I started this blog to share and hopefully help someone who is suffering like me, but instead I have sugar-coated things and edited myself because I don't want to be seen as weak.
Maybe it's the Soldier in me that doesn't want to show weakness. Maybe it's the hurt little girl inside of me that I am protecting. Maybe fully accepting that this part of my life sucks is too hard to handle. Whatever it is, I'm stopping it right now. I will no longer hide how I feel and I will write for myself and others like me.
I am a married women, but I am in love with Hypo Man. I am officially his number one fan. I sincerely hope he gets the help he needs. No, I sincerely hope that he is listened to one of these days he goes in to see his doctors. He's suffered too long. Does it make me a stalker if I care so much about him and I've never met him and have only seen him through one video? I tell all of my friends that not many stars make my scream list. (The scream list is for people I would actually scream for if I ever met them) My list consists of Beyonce(don't ask), Oprah, Nelson Mandela, and now Hypo Man.
My sincerest thanks to this man.
Also, why do any of us have to suffer. Why is that so many of us have received inferior care? I firmly believe I have had thyroid issues since I was 9 years old. The signs were there, but no one bother to do the testing and I just learned to live with symptoms until I got this lump on my thyroid. When lumps/nodules start to pop up, that usually a sign that your body has been fighting for a while. Why, if I am the 5th generation in my family to have a thyroid disease, didn't any doctor test my thyroid levels? Shouldn't that be standard procedure if I tell the doctor that my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-great grandmother (I just found this out) have had either Graves or Hypothyroid disease. It's ridiculous! If it sounds like crap to you too, then please visit the Patients with Thyroid Dysfunction Demand Better Care facebook page and sign the petition, PLEASE!
I came across this wonderful man's story because he was kind enough to follow my blog. I was excited to see a 3rd follower and his name Hypo Man, let me know that he wasn't on my blog for the food tips, but was a fellow sufferer. I was expecting a blog of medical jargon, symptoms, and post of self-acceptance. What I actually found was humor, honesty, and enlightenment.
His honesty touched me in ways that I can't express and I am forever thankful because I am not very honest most times about how I feel. I don't often think that others care. I feel like they get tired of hearing me complain about how bad I feel. When I am sick, I crawl into my cave (my home) and shut everyone out. But, why? Why am I unable to share my feelings? Why do I sometimes resent those who have read my blog. I started this blog to share and hopefully help someone who is suffering like me, but instead I have sugar-coated things and edited myself because I don't want to be seen as weak.
Maybe it's the Soldier in me that doesn't want to show weakness. Maybe it's the hurt little girl inside of me that I am protecting. Maybe fully accepting that this part of my life sucks is too hard to handle. Whatever it is, I'm stopping it right now. I will no longer hide how I feel and I will write for myself and others like me.
I am a married women, but I am in love with Hypo Man. I am officially his number one fan. I sincerely hope he gets the help he needs. No, I sincerely hope that he is listened to one of these days he goes in to see his doctors. He's suffered too long. Does it make me a stalker if I care so much about him and I've never met him and have only seen him through one video? I tell all of my friends that not many stars make my scream list. (The scream list is for people I would actually scream for if I ever met them) My list consists of Beyonce(don't ask), Oprah, Nelson Mandela, and now Hypo Man.
My sincerest thanks to this man.
Also, why do any of us have to suffer. Why is that so many of us have received inferior care? I firmly believe I have had thyroid issues since I was 9 years old. The signs were there, but no one bother to do the testing and I just learned to live with symptoms until I got this lump on my thyroid. When lumps/nodules start to pop up, that usually a sign that your body has been fighting for a while. Why, if I am the 5th generation in my family to have a thyroid disease, didn't any doctor test my thyroid levels? Shouldn't that be standard procedure if I tell the doctor that my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-great grandmother (I just found this out) have had either Graves or Hypothyroid disease. It's ridiculous! If it sounds like crap to you too, then please visit the Patients with Thyroid Dysfunction Demand Better Care facebook page and sign the petition, PLEASE!
Friday, June 8, 2012
Walks with my daughter
Hashimoto's has forced me to slow down and observe my life from a different standpoint than I use to before. When I get sick, I am forced to become acquainted with my bed (I hate the word bedridden). I don't let most people know that because I despise looks of sorrow or sympathy. I hold that information to myself. Recently, I've been having fainting spells. I remember when they first started happening (another reason why I started to get serious about my health), it was on a Saturday and I had just walked up my stairs to pick out some clothes and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground staring at my husband's feet rushing towards me. I wasn't scared, but when I looked at my husband's face I became terrified. I could see fright in his eyes. When I push too hard when I feel ill, I find myself down on the ground, so to prevent that from happening I climb in the bed with my children. I let them watch movies on my laptop (we only have one television in our home by choice), and I am forced to lie there. I can't play with them. I am not the same mother I use to be before I got sick and there are times when it makes me very sad.
There is a benefit to having moments of being that ill. It allows you to appreciate the moments when you are healthy. It allows you to be silly and let shit go. It allows you to play dress-up instead of obsess over how clean your house is. It allows you to pretend to be dinosaurs with your children instead of worrying if dinner will be on the table before your imaginary set time. It allows me to take walks with my daughter.
My daughter has had to deal with so much change recently. She got a new brother, a new school, and has had to learn to adjust to me being different. She has done quite well, but has become more cautious and less talkative. I have been in her shoes. I was much older, but it is terrifying to see a parent become so sick that they pass out right in front of you. My husband and I agreed that taking walks with her may allow her to open up and talk about things that bother her. On those days, he cooks and watches our son while Olivia and I take a walk around the neighborhood. She comes alive on those walks. She runs ahead of me and is less cautious. She tells me all about her day. I ask her questions about her favorite things and things that make her scared or angry and she opens up. I can talk to her about certain things that I would never think about with all the hustle and bustle of my house. Recently, I told her how her father would never let me walk close to the street when we first met and how you can tell if a young man is a gentleman by the way he treats you. It was very lighthearted, but these are the things I think she will keep with her forever. Good luck to the guy who dates her.
I have Hashimoto's to thank for slowing me down and getting to know my daughter. I can't wait to start taking walks with my son. I also can't wait until I get this thing all figured out and I don't have bad days anymore, but for now I'll cherish every good day that I have.
There is a benefit to having moments of being that ill. It allows you to appreciate the moments when you are healthy. It allows you to be silly and let shit go. It allows you to play dress-up instead of obsess over how clean your house is. It allows you to pretend to be dinosaurs with your children instead of worrying if dinner will be on the table before your imaginary set time. It allows me to take walks with my daughter.
My daughter has had to deal with so much change recently. She got a new brother, a new school, and has had to learn to adjust to me being different. She has done quite well, but has become more cautious and less talkative. I have been in her shoes. I was much older, but it is terrifying to see a parent become so sick that they pass out right in front of you. My husband and I agreed that taking walks with her may allow her to open up and talk about things that bother her. On those days, he cooks and watches our son while Olivia and I take a walk around the neighborhood. She comes alive on those walks. She runs ahead of me and is less cautious. She tells me all about her day. I ask her questions about her favorite things and things that make her scared or angry and she opens up. I can talk to her about certain things that I would never think about with all the hustle and bustle of my house. Recently, I told her how her father would never let me walk close to the street when we first met and how you can tell if a young man is a gentleman by the way he treats you. It was very lighthearted, but these are the things I think she will keep with her forever. Good luck to the guy who dates her.
I have Hashimoto's to thank for slowing me down and getting to know my daughter. I can't wait to start taking walks with my son. I also can't wait until I get this thing all figured out and I don't have bad days anymore, but for now I'll cherish every good day that I have.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
This one time in Iraq...
For a long time after I was deployed to Iraq, I felt like I started off conversations or my thinking pattern included the statement, "this one time in Iraq..." I worked hard to stop doing that. Sooooo, why am I writing about it in my blog about Hashimoto's? I don't know. It may have something to do with Memorial Day coming or the fact that I got a visit today from my old platoon Sergeant and a fellow Soldier, or it may even have to do with my recent visit to the VA. No matter how much I want to negate my feelings about that deployment, the truth is that there is life before Iraq and then there is life after Iraq. I spent a year of my life in a foreign country and although I never saw combat (well besides those mortar rounds, but that doesn't really count), the experience forever changed my life. I am different. I see life differently. I view the people that I deployed with as my family. Frankly, some of them rate a little higher than family. There are no words to express the love I have for not only the Soldiers that made it to Iraq with me, but also for those that simply experienced being taken from all that he or she knew and placed at funky ass Fort McCoy or strange land Kuwait. No matter how much time passes the love never diminishes. |
| Me on our convoy into Iraq |
Okay, so this does have to with Hashimoto's in a way. I got a call on Thursday from the VA to go see a Rheumatologist the very next day. I had no idea what was going on, but I do know that I had labs done and I assumed the appointment had something to do with that. First of all, I get there and the triage nurse is speaking to her friend about the tongue ring she wanted to get last summer (this chick had to be in her 60's) and after watching me stand at her desk waiting to be called, she glanced at me and said, "here is your pager, I'll call you when I'm ready". I swear to you, 30 seconds later she buzzes the damn thing and calls me over. It took her about 60 seconds to get my vitals and then I saw the doctor for all of 10 minutes. I sat down in his office, he tells me that they think I have Lupus or some other Autoimmune disease and they are going to do a full blood panel. He then asked me about 5 questions and sent me on my way. How the hell does he know anything about my case in 10 minutes? The only answer he can get about my health is from blood and frankly, that's all he is allotted by our government to care about because he is part-time for all of North Carolina with high number of patients. I waited for 45 minutes to get my blood work done. They guy in front of me, a man who clearly had Parkinson's disease had been waiting for over an hour. There was only one phlebotomist and she was responsible for all the blood work for all of the speciality clinics, which include oncology, rheumatology, sleep disorder, mental health, endocrinology, and neurology. By the time I got to the front of the line, the lady informed me she was diabetic and needed to take a break because she was getting the shakes. I couldn't even be mad at her. I kind of felt like the whole visit was a waste of time.
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| My bed for a year |
There was a time I didn't get why people put so much emphasis on veterans, until I became one. A veteran is someone who signs up to put there life on the line, as well as take lives for his or her country. Forget the politics and the rhetoric spewed by elected officials and think about being taken from your family to a hostile foreign land with the idea and in some cases, fact, that you will never come back home alive. These proud men and women who walk the halls of the VA medical center have all made that sacrifice, so why is it that in their time of need, our government has given them inferior care. I don't get it. I simply don't get it.
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| Burning feces... |
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Oh Blog, how I have neglected you...
I haven't been writing lately. My blog has been in the back of my mind and I know I have a million and one things I want to put on screen, but the truth is...I'm a sad writer. Not sad in the sense that I'm horrible, but sad in the sense that I feel more creative and want to be expressive when I'm sad. I don't know why, but I'm a writer, poet, and activist when I'm down in the dumps. I guess it's my therapy, but I've decided to push through it and type even though I'm feeling quite good.
I don't know when it happened. I woke up one day and said to myself...SELF, we haven't felt this good since last summer. I feel like my old self again and I hate to admit it, but it's because of the pills and my diet of course. When I started out on this journey, I figured I would find the magic potion to get to feeling like me without taking medication. I hate taking medication everyday, but it's helped me tremendously. When I take my medication the right way, I feel okay. When I eat the right way (for me) and take my medication, I feel normal. I feel happy and ultimately I get writer's block. HA!
So, what happened? I went to see a VA doctor and after a long battle with her, which ended with me in tears, she agreed to do some blood work on me and a MONTH later (your tax dollars at work), we found out that I had or rather have a severe Vitamin D deficiency that requires yet another pill. Oh, JOY! I also need to take iron and I was made privy to a little secret in thyroid world. The secret is that Hashimoto's interferes with receptors (I'm assuming cell receptors, but I'll find out later), so one may always be deficient in one thing or another. The guy in the video on the right explains it so much better than me.
Hmmm, why didn't someone tell me that in the first place. Well, that's the problem with the thyroid world. There so much to learn and so much information that I believe I have surrendered into a place of acceptance. You know that serenity prayer, it's pretty good for people like me.
I'm better now, but the journey still continues...
I don't know when it happened. I woke up one day and said to myself...SELF, we haven't felt this good since last summer. I feel like my old self again and I hate to admit it, but it's because of the pills and my diet of course. When I started out on this journey, I figured I would find the magic potion to get to feeling like me without taking medication. I hate taking medication everyday, but it's helped me tremendously. When I take my medication the right way, I feel okay. When I eat the right way (for me) and take my medication, I feel normal. I feel happy and ultimately I get writer's block. HA!
So, what happened? I went to see a VA doctor and after a long battle with her, which ended with me in tears, she agreed to do some blood work on me and a MONTH later (your tax dollars at work), we found out that I had or rather have a severe Vitamin D deficiency that requires yet another pill. Oh, JOY! I also need to take iron and I was made privy to a little secret in thyroid world. The secret is that Hashimoto's interferes with receptors (I'm assuming cell receptors, but I'll find out later), so one may always be deficient in one thing or another. The guy in the video on the right explains it so much better than me.
Hmmm, why didn't someone tell me that in the first place. Well, that's the problem with the thyroid world. There so much to learn and so much information that I believe I have surrendered into a place of acceptance. You know that serenity prayer, it's pretty good for people like me.
I'm better now, but the journey still continues...
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