Advocacy Guilt.

It was brought to my attention yesterday that January is Thyroid Awareness Month. (Well, in the US it is, anyway, but it doesn't change this post, nonetheless).

.

I had no idea.

Self care for my diabetes is so involved: I check my blood sugar, I wear an insulin pump, I count my carbs and dose insulin accordingly, I adjust my medication for exercise, stress and other emotions. I meticulously count the gulps of juice when I'm low to avoid over treating, and I do everything in my power not to rage bolus when my blood sugar is high and my insulin doesn't seem to be touching it (but I know it eventually will).

My family, friends and colleagues know I have type one diabetes. And to those that don't, I wear a medic alert bracelet, alerting them to the fact I have a health condition of some kind.

Self care for my underactive thyroid involves taking a tablet at 8.30am everyday.

That's it. My family, my closest friends and my boss know that I have an underactive thyroid. My family and closest friends, because I spoke to them about where I was at before I started thyroid medication. My boss, because I was at work when I got the diagnosis, and I had a little pity party.

I don't think about my thyroid and what it doesn't do in the same way I do my pancreas, and what it doesn't do (but I so badly want it to do). My lack of thyroid action doesn't impact my life in the same way my lack of pancreas action does. For the most part, diabetes peppers the background of my day, and my underactive thyroid I don't even consider an issue, as I just take my medication as prescribed, and that's it.

I wonder how different it would I only have an underactive thyroid, and no diabetes. Would I still consider it a "nothing issue" or do I just think of it like that because I'm comparing it to something that, in my opinion, is much more involved?

Would I be writing about my underactive thyroid in the same way I do my diabetes?

Who knows. I'll never know.

The point is, I feel somewhat guilty, as if I should be as eager to advocate about my "other health condition"' just like I am when it comes to my diabetes. But I'm just not into it. Maybe because I don't know enough about it? Or maybe, like I've said, compared to my diabetes, I don't even consider it an "issue"?

I don't know. But because it is Thyroid Awareness Month (and I still have a few days until February), I am going to research some blogs, and learn from those that are sharing their stories online like I am. (I'll also see if there's UK based awareness campaign for thyroid-related problems, and probably watch from the sidelines. I feel participating may be somewhat out of my comfort-zone, unlike talking diabetes online, which is my norm. We'll see!)

Because, whatever chronic condition(s) we live with, although we are not defined by it (them), it (they) does (do) help explain us (last line credit to SUM's tag line).

Better Than Yesterday.

It was about three months ago when I got a call from my DSN asking me what thyroid tablets I'm on.

"I'm not on any thyroid tablets," I replied.

"Really? Well your thyroid function test has come back abnormal. It's nothing to panic about, but because we don't have a baseline for you, I'd like you to get another blood test in six weeks."

"Okay," I responded, not really sure what to say. I hung up the phone, closed my office door and had a little cry. At 22 years old, another health condition wasn't what I was looking for. My manager walked in during my pity party. I have no doubt he regrets that - once I've cried on someone once, I have no fear about crying on them again. Not that I knew it then, but it would happen a lot more over the coming weeks.

*      *      *      *      *

The office door ended up closed a lot more. I always used to be an open-door-kind-of-girl, but for some reason I just didn't want to deal with people. Closing the door stopped the traffic of people I often encountered (and used to love), and I could focus on other jobs.

*      *      *      *      *

Loss of interest came next. I lost my patience with people quickly, continued to hide away, if not in my office, in my manager's office or at the cafe on camp. Comfort eating became a regular thing. 

*      *      *      *      *

Then came the official diagnosis. Underactive thyroid and to start on Thyroxine.

"Have you had any symptoms at all?" my DSN asked. "Tiredness, lethargic?"

"Not that I've noticed."

"Maybe we've caught it before it becomes symptomatic then. So get started on those meds asap!"

*      *      *      *      *

It was the week between diagnosis and starting medication that I crumbled. I felt broken, disconnected, disengaged and a whole load of other things. I phoned my DSN and asked if an underactive thyroid can mess with your head. Because although I had no physical symptoms, my head was all over the place, and as far as I was concerned it had come out of no where. I completely broke down.

"I know we spoke about the physical symptoms, but can a thyroid problem mess with your headspace? Because I don't feel like me. I feel broken. And I don't know what to do...You know what, I'd actually take my diabetes diagnosis all over again over this. At least then I still felt like me. Symptoms were physical and I could explain them. But this I can't. And it's shit."

*      *      *      *      *

My best friend is a smart one. She can read me through a text message. Sometimes, it's annoying, other times I'm thankful for it. This time, I was incredibly thankful for it. We went out shopping, had some dinner, I voiced what I could explain. She didn't pry further, just let me disclose what I wanted.

*      *      *      *      *

I started taking thyroxine tablets. One 100mcg tablet a day, at 8.30am, half an hour before breakfast. It sounds really stupid, but taking them gave me hope. Hope that this was the beginning of me being me again. I knew it wouldn't be immediate, but it was a starting point. Because feeling the way I did sucked big time.

"By my birthday,"

"What?" my manager asked.

"By my birthday is when I want to start feeling like me again. My DSN said the tablets will take a couple of weeks to kick in, my birthday is in three and a half. So that's what I'm shooting for."

He smiled and left the office.

*      *      *      *      *

"How are you doing today?"

"Better than yesterday. And that's all I can ask for," I said with a genuine smile.

"I knew you'd make it. Happy birthday, my dear."

*      *      *      *      *

Not feeling like myself meant I didn't want to write here. I took the break from this blog (and social media in general) so that I could figure things out. I wasn't ready to share, and I wasn't going to bullcrap on this blog and pretend that everything was a-okay.

Today, however, I feel better than yesterday, and better than the day before that. And that really is all I can ask for.