Hello again. A number of people, including myself, have gently suggested I’m past due for a post. By a lot. Then, my nutritionist suggested I blog my experience with my new diet, and I thought that was a great idea. Maybe it can help someone else relate, who is also going though difficult dietary changes. Or, maybe it will provide me some useful back story when I’m in the asylum searching for my identity.
My blog will continue to be a challenge to maintain, with my 7-, 6- and 4-year-old boys buzzing around. Since “hello,” I’ve had to make a turkey sandwich, explain the metric system and research the size of an acre. Still, it’s my goal to keep a better record of our home life than I have been.
Since the birth of my youngest, the medical community has conveyed a disconcerting giddiness to relieve me of my misbehaving thyroid. I’m certain the ordeal (click for the story) with Elijah, plus my family history, was what triggered my hyperthyroidism. It showed up temporarily during my second pregnancy, so I had a relationship established with an Endocrinologist at Emory. However, I didn’t want to haul my troop that far, so I tried a closer doctor. THAT doctor went straight for the kill. It was all I could do with my (possible) PTSD and crazy thyroid symptoms not to break down sobbing when I was faced with the thought of more separation and radioactive breast milk, or surgery, after all I’d gone through to be “normal” with my baby. Fortunately, my mom was there and helped me escape.
I returned to my former Endocrinologist and we’ve managed my symptoms effectively with off and on anti-thyroid medication. Surgery or radioactive iodine has always been on the table as an option, but it recently turned high-pressure. My gut tells me that a body part doesn’t spontaneously misbehave “just because,” but, my doctor didn’t display an interest in “why.” The best I got was “we don’t know” or “this is our protocol.” I can not accept gland termination as the best solution to the quandary, at least not without exploring all the other options, and I’m really REALLY sick of Band-Aid treatments. I want to be WELL.
Meanwhile, a friend was also exploring thyroid treatment, but in the reverse direction. I liked the holistic approach of her doctors, so I made an appointment. My first visit was both befuddling and encouraging. I will preface by saying I AM very spiritual. I DO believe God wants me to be well and live a wholehearted life. I believe He communicates to us subtly or like thunder, and I believe he knows when a girl appreciates some humor. So, I’ve been praying for wellness, and believing that it will come, and it may take time and tears, but it will come.
I was fighting skepticism, doubt and jaded thoughts before seeing this new doctor. My husband prayed with me for my healing. My women’s group prayed with me for my healing. The day I went in, I wasn’t “supposed” to be there. My appointment was scheduled for the next week or two, but I got called about a cancellation. So, as I sat, alone, in the waiting room, in flittered what I can describe only as two effervescent fairy god-ladies. They oohed and aahed and giggled about, gathering pamphlets, poking at samples and talking to me like I’d skipped in with them from out of town. Then, suddenly, the tall one had ninja’d her way inside my safety bubble and was asking me what she could pray about for me. I stammered something about healing, she prayed, burbled some more enthusiastic words and the two whisked out the door in the manner they’d arrived. Now, I’m not claiming they were angel-folk, and I’m not saying they weren’t. But I did laugh to myself about the timing and I chose to take it as reinforcement that God means good things for me.
The actual appointment went normally, save one more providential clue. I nearly gave up on the whole ordeal after a Face-Time-style meeting with finance on an ipad. But Finance “randomly” called right back for me with an immediate do-able solution to the expense. More peace for my heart.
So, the gist of the whole “Dr. Wellness” experience is that they are doing a bunch of labs, looking in all the corners, and putting me on a special diet, on which I will elaborate in my next post. Already, my headaches are decreased and I’m getting out of bed easier in the morning. My thyroid meds over-corrected so, those have been cut to a third of the dose. Now, if only I could keep my hair attached to my head and see some encouraging movement on the scale!