On Strike

I was trying to lose weight, but now I am on strike.

It all started on Tuesday. It would have started on Monday, but Monday was a holiday and we all had the day off. Which meant that the doctor's office had the day off as well. Which is why they called me on Tuesday instead of Monday. Not that any of that matters really.

Or, maybe it would be more accurate to say it started last Thursday. Last Thursday is when I went to go see the doctor. The doctor whose office called me on Tuesday instead of Monday. Which is why I am on strike.

I can't pinpoint anything before that point because I have never bothered to ask specific questions because the answers never mattered to the other doctors.

I am on strike because what the doctor's office told me is the VERY LAST THING I expected to hear. I was literally on the verge of tears. Looking back, I feel badly for the nurse who had to call to give me the news. I was a little desperate sounding.

To explain it all: I have hypothyroidism. In the succinct words of a boy I dated in college - the one that makes you fat. Having spent the better part of the last 7 years exhausted and the last 8 months utterly exhausted as we have experimented with other medications, I found a new thyroid doctor who listens. He was great. He said those magical words, "Everyone has a level that their body is happy at, no matter what the average ranges are. I want you to be at that number and to feel good." I thought I had died and gone to medical heaven. So, I happily let them draw my blood secure in the knowledge that he would be willing to do what no other doctor would do and up my meds.

And then came the phone call. The nurse told me my number. It wasn't pretty. And it wasn't anywhere near what could conceivably be a hypothyroid number. It was, in fact, a hyperthyroid number. That's right. I have been medicating myself into hyperthyroidism.

HYPERthyroidism.

The one where people LOSE weight. Where they CAN'T gain weight.

Wow. What would that be like?

I think this is freakishly unfair. I have a bunch of other unpleasant hyperthyroid symptoms, but I am still fat. I get to lower my medication because really only thyroid cancer patients should have my numbers.

After I talked to the nurse, I went and ate some Nutella. Because, really, what is the point? I can't win either way. I realize I am being a little bit childish about this, but for now I am strike.