A not-so-fun spring

This past Spring, I've been dealing with a bit of stuff. Well, a lot of stuff. Not-so-fun stuff.

One of the biggest things has been my thyroid.

Now, I've had doctors watching and treating my hypothyroidism since I was about eight years old, when my blood was first tested for thyroid problems. It's always been part of my life, but I've been on medication to help balance my thyroid deficiency, and it's worked well. I've lived a pretty normal life in that regard.

Well, about a week into 2014, I went in to see the general physician about the results from my blood work, like always. However, instead of hearing that everything was the same and getting my prescription, like it was supposed to go, I got a surprise.

The doctor told me that I had abnormally low TSH levels, and that she had to immediately lower my dosage of thyroid medication, or I would start having heart and bone problems. (Low TSH levels as in, the doctors at that clinic will allow patients to get down to 0.3 or so, but I was at 0.015.)

When the thyroid gland doesn't produce enough T3 and T4, the hypothalamus tells the pituitary gland to send out TSH, which literally 'stimulates' the thyroid so it will produce more T3 and T4. Low TSH indicates high levels of T3 and T4.

Especially in the previous three years, I had been feeling great. I had started martial arts again in high school, was finally able to mange my weight decently well, hung out with friends a lot, and had started to really enjoy life. I even had moments when I got excited and jumped or ran around just for fun.
So, when my doctor said my TSH levels were so low because my thyroid medication was too high. I sighed to myself, and figured that sure, with all my energy and hyper moments in the past months, maybe my thyroid medication was too high. I'm not supposed to have extra energy, and never had until recently

So, I went along with the doctor's advice (although I didn't have much choice, as she only wrote me  prescription for 120mg of Armour Thyroid, instead of 180mg), and by the middle of February, I was feeling pretty bad. I was tired all the time, was more stressed than normal with classes and my groups, got mad/upset more often, and felt depressed.

I saw one of the university's doctors, and he confirmed the low TSH problem. Then I went back to DFW in March, for Spring Break, and met with a doctor who focuses on hormone balancing, and she reaffirmed the problem and lowered my thyroid dosage again, this time to 90mg.

After however many years on 180mg of Armour Thyroid, I was down to half that amount in three months.

No worries, I was sure the doctors knew what they were doing. After all, I was dealing with a lot of stress from classes and my parents' divorce, so I kept telling myself I was fine, and went back out to Lubbock.

I cried a lot in March and April. Not because anything bad in particular was happening, but because I couldn't keep myself from crying. My emotions were a mess, and I couldn't focus on anything. My brain felt like it was in a fog, but I couldn't even try to clear it out.

I went to counseling. I started taking anti-depressants. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, but it steadily kept getting worse throughout May. I had lots of stuff going on, and to be honest, maybe the anti-depressants were finally working, because I just didn't really care anymore. Everything was painful and I just kept trying to ignore it.

My dad wanted me to see a thyroid specialist that one of his neighbors recommended, so I got an appointment. I went to see him the week after being told by the hormone doctor that I had to go down to 60mg of Armour.

You know what this new doctor said? Using TSH levels to treat thyroid, in the way that my other doctors were doing, was about fifteen years behind, in regard to research and studies.

He told me that he would treat my symptoms, and while the low TSH levels indicated an overactive thyroid, I definitely have the symptoms of an underactive thyroid. Therefore, he raised my thyroid medication back up to 120mg, added lots of vitamins and supplements for me to take daily, and is running other blood tests that the other doctors didn't bother or know to do.

It will probably take three to six months for my thyroid and blood levels to balance out again, and I'm pretty relieved that there is a way out. but it isn't an easy fix. Going up to 120mg of Thyroid hasn't appeared to do much, besides giving me some stronger headaches. My hair is still coming out in small clumps. I'm still not sleeping well, and I'm probably not going to come off my anti-depressant medication any time this year. However, at least it shouldn't get worse.

I'm pretty mad at myself for letting this happen. I should have done more research earlier, and maybe have seen more doctors throughout the spring, instead of figuring that two normal doctors and one hormone specialist would be enough. I think the only thing I'll have gained from this whole experience, besides a distrust of doctors, is knowing that I don't have Hashimoto's auto-immune disorder, which is good, I suppose. That extra blood test was worthwhile.

 Also, I now have some boring, medical stuff to write about for my blog. Small wins, right?


Apologetic for the lapse in writing so far this summer,
The Purple Writer

All the boxes.

Literally, all of the boxes.

I have been moving, along with my mom and brother, to a new house. It is crazy.

First of all, you should understand that we had lived in our previous house since I was five years old. That's about sixteen years in a single house.
It was nice. I enjoyed the house. But now, as we have been moving out of it, I see how much stuff we have accumulated over the years. A LOT OF STUFF.

When I came back for Spring Break, I cleaned up quite a bit in the two closets in my bedroom - Yes, that's right, two closets. I stayed in the ridiculously large bedroom that we used as a guest bedroom and with the pull-down bed and my trundle bed, could house four people with minimal inconvenience. - My first two weeks home from college, I went through and either threw out, packed up, or put everything in the ginormous give-away pile.

(and that was just in the beginning stages of the piles' growth)

Moving is a healthy thing. I think it is a good plan to move every couple or five years, if for nothing else than having to go through all of your belongings and decide what you really want to keep or not.

I had a lot of stuff with me both my years at college. In fact, I rented a storage unit for this summer, so I could keep most of my college stuff there, as I didn't want the hassle of carrying it around in this move (and it would never all fit in my car in a million years).

I thought I had just about everything I needed out there in my storage unit, besides my clothes and the other few things I thought I would need to have this summer (like my computer, my comics, my Doctor Who Monopoly game, my writing beret, etc.).

I even left two of my pillow pets. That's right. I left pillow pets behind in Lubbock. I've never left them behind before. I have to be satisfied with my other three pillow pets for these three months.

But, actually, when I came back and started packing up my stuff that I had at home, I came to a realization. I have too much stuff. I don't need all this stuff. I never needed to have all of this stuff at one time. That's craziness.

So, I have gotten rid of and given away lots of stuff. Yet, there have still been plenty of boxes to move to the new house. Quite a few have already been unpacked, but there are still boxes everywhere. Boxes in the garage, boxes in the living room, boxes in my closet, boxes in my car. SO MANY BOXES

This is not even mentioning the boxes of stuff left at the house that we have been packing and moving to my dad's storage unit here in DFW. I'm glad that we have boxes, because they make moving stuff much easier, but it would be nice to not have so many around right now.


Living out of boxes,
The Purple Writer