Firstly, a very big Thank You to everyone who has been so kind and supportive since my son's accident. He's doing really well and is back at school, enjoying his 'celebrity'.
I see my doctor again next week and I'm hoping he will see sense and put my medication back up to what it was and then maybe, just maybe, I can shake off this sluggishness, and at times utter exhaustion, that seems to sap every shred of energy I used to posses.
I hate having to rely on medication. I would love to say 'That's it. No more!' But I can't. Me and my thyroid are at war; it wants to slow me down and make me fat and I'm not going to let it. If that means having to ingest pharmaceuticals just to get out of bed in the morning then so be it. Now I just have to convince my doctor of that. I've been ticking along OK for the last few years. I've been tired and run down but not a 'thyroid' kind of tired, and I've been dealing with it for long enough now to know the difference. Unfortunately my G.P hears the word TIRED and thinks THYROID. Every. Single. Bloody. Time.
Now I'm no doctor but I know there must be a million and one different causes of fatigue and aching but my doctor steadfastly refuses to see this and a few months ago decided (without the benefit of a blood test) to up my dose of Levothyroxine by 25mcg. Then when he finally decides to get that blood test taken the results show that while my T4 is normal, my TSH level was just outside the lab range. It really was just a teeny bit out 0.04 out to be precise. Does he cut the 25mcg he'd previously prescribed which was most likely responsible for the TSH result? No. He cuts it by 75 mcg and turns me into a zombie who struggles to get out of bed or even think straight!
I feel my life has been put on hold. I haven't seen the dawn in months. By tea time I'm looking at my watch and thinking 'is it bed time yet?' Following the plot of anything on T.V is damn near impossible and even conversations are a trial some days. Dust is gathering along my skirting boards, my kitchen feels neglected as I pull meal after meal out of the freezer instead of cooking from scratch. Blogging is an effort instead of a joy. Going to the shops for milk is a major expedition and the woods across the other side of the river just a far away dream.
I WANT MY LIFE BACK.
I see my G.P at ten to nine next Tuesday morning and I swear to you now, if he doesn't increase my dose there and then, he'll be saying 'RIBBET' by lunch time.