In March 2021, my stomach started hurting and it wouldn’t stop. I researched top gastroenterologists and found one, a woman, who looked like a movie star. I’ll go ahead and warn you, I’ve got big feelings about how I’ve been treated by doctors over the past 17 years since I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s, an autoimmune illness that destroys the thyroid gland. The pretty doctor performed an endoscopy and colonoscopy on me. The procedures showed nothing.
My actual thyroid diagnosis came by way of another doctor misdiagnosing me with depression in 2006.
The visit was quick and went like this:
Me: I’m tired and all I want to do is lay around. I feel unmotivated.
Doctor: Are you upset about something? Stressed?
Me: [thinking of something to say]. Maybe I am. I do have a lot going on with school, my kids, new marriage.
Doctor: [prescribes Paxil].
I took Paxil for 2 weeks and felt even more lethargic so I returned to the doctor.
Me: I am not depressed. Can I get some blood work?
I was called back to the doctor the following week by his nurse who told me I needed thyroid medicine.
“How long do I have to take it?”
The nurse looked at me as if I should know. “This is a lifetime medication.”
I had no idea what the thyroid was or where it was. I don’t know if I had ever heard the word “thyroid” in my life. But, there I was on the Internet that night looking at every site I could find so I might understand why my thyroid gland didn’t work the way it should and how did I get that way.
I believe the years of chronic stress and diet pills depleted my adrenal glands and destroyed my thyroid gland but I couldn’t prove it. And, there has never been an endocrinologist in my life since my diagnosis who could tell me why I had this illness.
I’ve been avoiding writing. On purpose. Last week, I renewed my library card and picked up the fattest book I could find. Carthage by Joyce Carol Oates, a legendary writer. I used to love reading and then I stopped, filling my waking hours with mindless scrolling. It’s those silly monkey reels on Instagram. What’s the harm, right, in watching cute animal videos? I laid the book on my bedside table along with my new night reading light. The light is cool. I read two chapters and then stopped. I stopped the monkey videos, too and have laid in my bed for two weeks, each evening, in pain and in sadness.
When my mom died last July, I was in shock and I guess I still am. My functional doctor asked me “Have you seen a therapist yet?” I’ve been seeing Dr. Lawrence since my stomach pain started. She’s helped me manage the bloat and inflammation with supplements and nutrition, but I’ve got to put the brakes on the grief so I can finish healing. “Yes, I have found someone to talk to.” When my thyroid labs came back last week looking beautiful, I was happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen numbers like that, but then, why do I feel stiff and swollen?
It’s sadness that’s causing the physical pain. Disbelief that THIS happened to my family. I still had things to do with my mom. I was going to buy her a house in a cute neighborhood where she could plant flowers in a shady yard dappled with sunlight and sit on the porch in the evenings. She liked to pass out Halloween candy and fill her yard with seasonal inflatables. She was the laughter in our family and she was also the hard ass, telling me to get up and go for what I wanted.
I’m resilient. Always have been. I pride myself on this resiliency I have; it’s like Rocky and the Russian in Rocky IV when the Russian says “He is not human. He is like a piece of iron.” Or Rocky and Tommy Gunn when Rocky is down and thinks back to Mickey telling him to “GET UP!” Life isn’t a movie, but there’s a lot of good stuff in Rocky movies. This quote is one of them:
“Going in one more round when you don’t think you can. That’s what makes all the difference in your life.” – Rocky Balboa
There’s a video I saw where researcher Dr. Brene Brown is talking about midlife and she’s right on the money. Watch it here. The interview is damn good and one that punched me in the gut when Dr. Brown discusses wearing armor that doesn’t fit you anymore. After listening to the interview, I went to my journal to do a life inventory like this:
Last night I went to sleep feeling pain throughout my body and this morning I woke to relief. I walked to the kitchen and smiled at the sight of our oldest son, Tyler, sleeping soundly on our sofa and I felt a wave of gratitude. My husband, my son, and I went fishing and caught 30 pan-size fish, the September sun shone down on our heads, with a light breeze shhhing through the pines. Today is one of those days I feel somewhat restored and hopeful. I took out my notebook and jotted down ideas for my next online business program, excited for something new, when a text comes through.
I better get busy reading that book.
ps. I got a new cat. Meet Butternut, AKA Tommy Tutone
. We can’t figure out if it’s a boy or a girl.