HypoThursday, February 13, 2014
My last year has been spent enveloped in a fog, a thought-slowing, memory-stealing fog that has been impossible to shake. To say that I'm tired is an understatement. Some days it's like something has drained the very life out of me, and some days it's easier to stay in bed. I've become increasingly unpredictable, short tempered and moody causing the pets and my beau to tip toe around for fear they might set me off.
At first, I didn't understand my fatigue and dismissed whatever I thought was going on as simply me being lazy. I'd end each night beating myself up over not being productive, saying that "tomorrow will be different" and "I will get things done." The next day, despite my positive thinking and best efforts, things would always be the same.
Like the fatigue, I dismissed the mood swings as part of PMS, the fog as the result of stress or dehydration.
I exercised, I hydrated, I ate right. Nothing changed.
And after everything, I'd dismiss it all as me being a hypochondriac.
Finally, at the urging of my beau, I've been to the doctor. Turns out I'm not suffering from hypochondria, I'm suffering from hypothyroidism.
It all adds up now, the piles of hair in the shower drain and hair brush, the brittle nails, the dry skin, the swollen looking face-- my body was trying to tell me something and I just wasn't listening. I've wondered for months and months why my hair isn't like it used to be, why it doesn't look or feel right.
Even just looking back through blog photographs, there is a noticeable and unexplained change in my hair, my skin and even my face.
|October, 2011, I was feeling pretty good here, despite having a head cold|
Monday I was prescribed these tiny white pills that aim to compensate for my under-producing thyroid and get me back to normal, whatever that is. I'm eager to have more energy, to get projects done, to have predictable moods, be pleasant towards family and friends, and to devote more time and enthusiasm to this blog and to Fair Sails. I'm trying not to hang all my hopes on the medication, I know it's going to be a long road to feeling good again, but it's nice to be headed in the right direction.
Moral of this story: Listen to your body, and if you find yourself identifying with any of my symptoms, or thinking about problems of your own, go to the doctor. Looking back, waiting to seek help was a big mistake that has laid waste to my life.
Happy, and healthy, Sailing