Pills! I have pills!

Pills! It’s a MIRACLE (and just in time for Christmas, too!).

For those of you who have been following the whole sordid saga, you’ll be happy to know that I HAVE MY PILLS NOW.  And, honestly, I never thought I’d see the day.  I mean, it wasn’t looking too good there for a while.

I talked to the doctor’s office today and they decided that I didn’t need to come in after all, only to have the doctor write me up a prescription that OBVIOUSLY I needed, since my lab results triggered the APOCALYPSE alarm they keep under the desk.

Seriously, I don’t know what my results were (I haven’t received a copy yet) but the gal said they were “high”.  Well shoot, they were “high” last time too!  But last time they wanted me to take 150mcg (or as they initially put it, just take the 100mcg that I no longer had and cut one in two and take one whole pill and one half).  This time?  200mcg!

Woo hoo!

Which, you know, is the exact same dosage I was taking back up until the day Evie was born.  So it’s only taken NINE MONTHS for me to get back on the right dosage!  Who said the medical system in this country sucks?  It works just fine!

So anyhow, she tells me my result was “high” and that the doctor wanted me to take this new medication called “Levothyroxin”.  You know, otherwise known as the medication I’ve been taking for the last X number of years.  Riiiight.  Not so much with the whole being “NEW” thing but whatever.  And she said that she could fax the prescription over to the pharmacy for me.  Would I like her to do that?


Kile stopped on the way home at the store (milk!  bread!) and got the prescription so starting tomorrow?  I’M ALL GOOD.  I’ve got 5 refills on this and I get retested (fingers crossed) again at the end of January.  For the time being?  I’m on the road to quasi-health!  I still think I need to start seeing an edocrinologist, but at least this is a step in the right direction.

Party on!

Could this be *gasp* progress?

Okay, for those of you who are following my Thyroid Drama with baited breath (oh hush, you know you are), I have an update.  Of sorts.  I swear, this is like something out of a bad television drama or something.  Kile called and left a stern voice mail today.  Which brings the total of Stern Voice Mails left to something like 40 bazillion.  And they never call back but today they did.  Which… ??  Yeah, I have no idea.

So this is what she told me.  They faxed the refill request approval or something of that sort (gal I spoke to has a thick accent so it was a little hard to understand) to the pharmacy on October 27.  And she also said that they only got one faxed refill request from the pharmacy.  Not the plethora that the pharmacy has told us that they sent.  Which… ??  Meh.

The long and short of it is this:  The doctor wants to see me before he will give me a new prescription.  And I have to get my blood drawn (again) before he’ll see me.  Because I’m SURE my TSH has improved from 116 in the last two months (I think it’s been almost that) without having had ANY medication.  But hey, maybe it’ll have gotten worse.  Anyone wanna take bets on what it is now?  Think I can break 200?  Come on, it’ll be FUN to guess!

So she has lab orders that I need to pick up at the office.  Because things with our vehicles is always in a state of flux here and because I am loathe to leave the house with the two little ones, I asked if Kile could pick them up for me on his way home from work.  She said no problem, as long as they have my permission.  Which they do.  Then I go get my blood drawn (I so love that part, let me tell you).  Then I wait for results.  And then, depending on the results (I’m gonna guess the results will = BAD JUJU, but no need to take my word for it), they’ll call me and make an appointment.  And I’ll go in for said appointment and talk to the doctor.  And then, GOD WILLING, I will get a prescription.  And actual, physical prescription that I can take to an actual, physical pharmacy and then (dare I hope?) get actual, physical PILLS.


Okay, I can understand wanting to see me before doing up a new prescription because he wanted to see me in December for another blood draw ANYHOW (of course, this was going to assume I’d been taking pills all this time.  WHICH I HAVE NOT.)  But why not throw me a bone in the meantime and just refill the 100mcg pills?  WHY WHY WHY??   OMG, my head hurts.  Kill me now.

So there you have it.  I am going to conceivably get some medication sometime this month.  First, I have about a gazillion hoops to jump through which makes me SO HAPPY and will be SO EASY what with the whole “vehicle flux” and small children thing we’ve got going but WHATEVER.  We’ll figure it out.   At this point, I just want some freakin’ pills before I lapse into a coma or something (I totally fell asleep on the couch this morning for 20 minutes without really intending to take a nap) (sorry, kids).

Cross your fingers, ya’ll.

Health – Or Lack Thereof

So to those of you out there who are waiting with baited breath for an update on my thyroid status… well… you’re not going to like it.  The short of it is: I still don’t have my meds.  I swear, even I was the sort to get persistant and worked up about this sort of thing, I still don’t think I’d have my meds.  My doctor’s office is THAT awful to work with.  I really picked a winner when we switched our insurance, didn’t I?  Shoot, I just wanted a doctor that was nearby that would be easy to go see.  I didn’t realize his office was going to be one step shy of completely incompetant when it comes to getting the proper care for a disease like hypothyroidism.

I’ve called.  Kile has called.  MY MOTHER IN LAW has called.  Nothin’.  Voicemails have been left.  Calls have not been returned.  Requests have been made for paper prescriptions that we could pick up.  I’d even be willing to go in and talk to the doctor again.  And while I’m not too excited about getting my blood tested AGAIN, I’d even be willing to do THAT.  But… nothing.  As I mentioned before (I think I mentioned it before, at least), I even tried to find another doctor.  But that was easier said than done as they wanted some mysterious “diagnosis” faxed to them before they would make an appointment.  I don’t even know what that MEANS.

And here’s the thing: hypothyroidism causes you to feel a lot of the same symptoms as depression.  By that, I mean that my motivation is below what it might normally be.  Now, I’m not that motivated anyhow, as I’m a rather laid back personality.  Add in the added lack of motivation and I’m pretty much just a bump on a log over here.  It’s very hard to get myself motivated to do something, especially when I know it’s going to be a fight.  It’s easier to just sit back and forget about it.

And that’s another thing… When your thyroid takes a header, so does your memory.  I used to think I had a pretty sharp mind.  I didn’t forget ANYTHING.  Now?  I forget EVERYTHING.  This is above and beyond the forgetfulness of motherhood, ya’ll, if that gives you any indication.  So when you add the forgetfullness with the lack of motivation you get a scenario like I find myself in the middle of.

Picture this:  You know there’s something you need to do.  And you need to do it as soon as possible.  The urgency presses at your brain.  But, it’s the middle of the night and you’re trying to get to sleep.  There’s nothing you can do in the middle of the night, so you’d be better off going to sleep and taking care of it in the morning.  Just don’t forget!  And then, of course you do forget.  Repeat for MONTHS.  And that, in a nutshell, is my life.

I KNOW that I need to take this medication.  But between simply forgetting about it and my lack of motivation, it has fallen through the cracks.  And now the situation has just gotten so completely ridiculous that I’m almost embarassed to see a new doctor about it.  Because then I would have to explain why I am so lame about this.  And I would have to hear how irresponsible it is of me to just let this go like this.

And, honestly, I don’t feel I’m up to that.  So I don’t know what to do next, other than keep pestering the doctor’s office to get our prescription filled for crying out loud.  And wait.  Wait, wait, wait.

Calling all thyroid experts!

Okay, who out there knows what these test results MEAN?  Because I got my results today and I’m totally scratching my head.

Back when I was first diagnosed with hypothyroidism, my levels were (I’m told) something like 36.  Didn’t mean much to me until the doctor explained to me that normal levels are 0.5 to 5 and that he’d like mine 0.5 to 2 in order to get pregnant.  Okie dokie!

This last pregnancy, when my OB called me all in a tizzy over my TSH level and the existance of antibodies in my bloodstream, the level was 16.  That’s when she bumped me up from 150mcg of levothyroxin to 200mcg.  Which is what I took until I ran out of pills (and refills) like THE DAY Evie was born.

I’m not sure what my levels were the first time they were tested by the new doctor back in August but they were a “jumping off” point anyhow, as if I had just been diagnosed.  He had me taking 100mcg.

Now I was supposed to get this test done a month ago.  (Oops!)  Actually, like a month and a HALF ago.  Anyhow.  I got a call from the nurse yesterday saying she had gotten my results and they were “high”.  The doctor wanted me to take 150mcg.  I pointed out that I had no refills and she said to have the pharmacy fax over a refill request which would be for 100mcg and not 150mcg but I’M NOT GOING TO ARGUE at this point.  And he wanted me retested in December.  Okay, whatever works.  Right?

Today I got the lab results in the mail.  And… well… I don’t want to jump to conclusions or anything but it says the result is 116.527.  (And, ever so helpfully, next to it is a flag that says High.)  (For the record, the “Reference Interval” is 0.45 – 4.500, which is in line with what I know.)

Uhm.  Is that the same number as the 36 and the 16 from before?  Because if it is, then that’s kinda beyond HIGH and more into OMG, HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?  Or am I being a doofus?  I swear, you could never tell I’ve had hypothyroidism for 5 years (well, more if you wanna get technical but I’ve known for five years), I’m still pretty naive about it.

Do any of you know how to read a report like this?  Cuz DUDE.

Not doing that well, actually

This has been a hard week.  Partly because Evie is teething (I can finally feel the little buggers poking through her gums now!) and as such her sleeping has become a lot more schizophrenic.  Partly because Liam is acting every inch of TWO YEARS OLD and I’ve about had it with his constant boundary testing.  And partly because, well, I’m not taking thyroid medication.  Again.

So, I’m mentally cringing in anticipation of the accusations I’ll get from you guys.  I know I should have been more on top of things than I was.  But I just don’t know HOW I could have been.  I saw the doctor back at the beginning of August.  He prescribed me 100mg of meds, 100mg less than I was taking before Evie was born.  He had me go get my blood tested and sure enough, my levels were Not Good.  I forget the number now (maybe I put it in a post somewhere?  Far too lazy to go look for it), but it was fairly high.  The idea was I would get my blood tested again in September and go back in to see him a week after that and we would re-evaluate my meds then.

Hmm.  Riiiight.

The thing is, I cannot, cannot, take two small kids to get my blood drawn.  Not when one of those kids is Liam.  We don’t even have any labs near our house, it’s a good 20 minute drive to get to any lab.  It just can’t be done without additional adult assitance.  And Kile, well, he’s been busy at work.  He can’t really take a lot of time off.  It’s great that his job is so stable, don’t get me wrong.  We definitely don’t want to rock that boat.  So I haven’t pushed the issue.  In truth, I haven’t made it a priority.  And, to be honest, once I was able to get my blood drawn, I surely couldn’t go to the doctor with both kids either.

Basically, I’m trapped here at home with the kids.  I cannot leave with them so I cannot leave, period.

And, unfortunately, I’m feeling the effects of it.  My temper is short (not good when matched with Ornery Two Year Old), I’m easily frustrated, and I can tell that I’m circling the drain yet again.

So basically… when it comes to taking care of myself I am an Epic Fail.  And I just don’t know what I can do anymore to pull myself out of this hole.

Bermuda Triangle

I’ve tried to start this post a dozen different ways but everything I’ve tried sounds so stupid.  So just bear with me.

While hurridly taking a shower during those magic moments yesterday afternoon when both Liam and Evie were napping AND NO ONE WAS NEEDING TO NAP ON ME, I was mulling some things over in my head.  I do my best thinking in the shower.   Anyone else do that besides me?  Sometimes it seems the shower is the only place a person can hear themselves think around here.  Anyhow.  I was thinking about things, about stuff and I came ot a realization.   I’m in a Bermuda Triangle of sorts.  At least, I think I am.

You see, I may have mentioned once or twice that I have a little problem with my thyroid.  I know, you’re probably tired of hearing about it already.  In the last couple of weeks I’ve done some sniffing around and I’ve noticed that there are some connections between hypothyroidism and depression.  Either the thyroid causes you to feel depressed, or the depression is a symptom or an effect… Okay, now I’m just starting to confuse myself.

And then I started thinking of the influx of postpartum hormones that crash in when a baby is a couple months old.  That thought was probably prompted by the handfull of hair that I came away with after rinsing the shampoo out.  The hair starts falling out and the hormones inside are trying to even themselves out.  It’s no small task, I’m sure.  In fact, I’m sure it’s a pretty serious endeavor since it was during this postpartum period that my thyroid first decided it was going to take a dirt nap all those years ago after Harry was born.  So it would be no small wonder that hormones leveling out should cause me to feel a little on edge.  It makes sense, even.

And then there’s postpartum depression.  Is it related to the evening out of hormones post-pregnancy?  Or something else?  I have to admit that I know very little about PPD.  What causes it, why some women get it and others do not.  Why some women get it worse than others.  And why you can have multiple chidren and not have it with some but have it with others.  I have no clue.  But it’s there.  It exists.

So where do I fall amidst all this?  I have a feeling I fall right in the middle of it all.  Right in the middle of the “Bermuda Triangle” of hormones, depression and syndromes.  I don’t think I need to tell you that it’s not a happy place to be.  At least, I don’t think it is.  Because I’m not even 100% sure that it’s where I am.  How do you know?  I guess I never considered that a person who was feeling depressed wouldn’t know for sure if what they felt was depression or if, well, they needed to just buck up and take it.  When I would hear someone recount their experiences with depression, I would never second-guess it.  I guess I assumed if you were depressed you just KNEW.  Is that the case?  Or not?

I guess it can be hard to see what’s right in front of you when you’re in the Bermuda Triangle.

I’ve felt that I just need to buck up and take it.  That what I’m feeling isn’t that remarkable, that what I go through is nothing compared to some women, that I have no room to complain about anything.

I want it to be known, however, that I cherish my children.  The love I have for them sometimes keeps me awake at night, it is so enormous.  I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.  As hard as things might be right now, I know my life is so much better having them in it.  So don’t think for an instant that I don’t realize I have some pretty awesome kids.  Because I know I do.

I just need to find my way out of this Bermuda Triangle so I can really start feeling like myself.  Even though I worry that I’ve been in here so long that I don’t even know what “myself” is anymore.

Mild Panic

I’m feeling a rising, panic-like feeling in my chest this afternoon.  An almost virtual “the walls are closing in on me” sort of feeling.  I’m not entirely sure why.  I have the sensation that I could either bust out laughing or burst into tears at any moment.  It’s not a pleasant feeling.  I don’t enjoy it.  I would like it to leave me alone.

The fact that Liam has had some fairly scary diapers so far today, the worst being the diaper when he woke up from his nap that had “spilled over” onto his clothes and the blanket in his crib.  I think I used up half of the hand sanitizer before that little endeavor was said and done.  GAAAAAH. What the heck, Liam?  Do I need to feed you more bananas or something?

I’ve also been leaking up a storm today.  Before Evie, I NEVER leaked.  Now, I leak all the time.  And today?  I have been leaking constantly.  I finally just stuck a receiving blanket in my bra.  Really attractive, I assure you.  At least I remembered to buy nursing pads at the store the last time I was there.  Something I’ve been forgetting to do for like FOUR MONTHS now.

Speaking of Evie, she has a nasty rash and has for a while and I have no idea how to fix it.

I feel like I’m missing something.  That I need something.  Or maybe I need less of something.  Or more?  I HAVE NO IDEA.  And, if you couldn’t tell, IT’S DRIVING ME NUTS.

My thyroid pills are helping, I think.  But I don’t think they’re helping THAT much.  It’s better but not like it should be, you know?  I’m back from the brink so instead of being stark raving mad, I’m just raving mad.  At this point, just being mad would be nice but some day, I hope to be just fine.

Does such a thing exist anymore?

Taking care of it

So I finally got an appointment.  Kile made it for me after I spazed out yesterday (yep, I spazed out).  He instructed me to go lie down with Evie and rest while Liam was napping and he would call the doctor’s office.  When I woke up an hour later, I had an appointment for 11am this morning.  WOW.  I asked him what sexual favors he had to promise in order to get in so fast.  He told me that Raul, the receptionist, wants him to take him to dinner tonight.  (That’s a joke, in case you didn’t get it.)

I went in and the doctor is a real nice guy.  I’m not used to having a male doctor, but he was a kindly sort.  Even though it was strange discussing my sex drive with a guy.  He did ask me some questions about postpartum depression and I told him I honestly didnt’ know what was thyroid and what wasn’t.  SO, the plan is to get me on some thyroid medication right now and get my thyroid tested as soon as I can (probably not until early next week).  Then, test the thyroid again in a month and see how I’m reacting the medication.  I was on 200mcg before, but I will be taking 100mcg to start.  We don’t want to completely freak my system out, which I can understand.  And hey, it’ll be something.

He also wants to see me in a month.  When my thyroid is under control, I think he wants to revisit the possibility of postpartum depression.  He said he also wants to test my cholesterol, but not until the thyroid is happy.  So there’s that.

We’re on the road towards better health at last.  I’m pretty embarassed that I let it go this far, by the way.   So far that I can’t tell what is what anymore.  I know us moms tend to put ourselves last, but try explaining to a doctor why you’ve done nothing about your lapsed thyroid medicine in FOUR MONTHS.  That can make you feel pretty stupid pretty quick.

And I want to thank you all fo ryour kind words and encouragement this week.  You guys are, quite seriously and without sarcasm, the wind beneath my wings.  I love you all.  You guys keep me going.


In other (but no less fabulous) news: the wonderful Brit has posted a NEW! EXCITING! GIVEAWAY! on the Cloth Diaper Mamas blog.  We hope for this giveaway to become a regular feature and this week, she is graciously putting up one of her handmade slings to one lucky commenter.  You have until Sunday night to enter so get on over there and check it out!


It continues.  It grows worse, even.  Or maybe that’s just because I’m looking for it now.  I’m finding little bits of evidence scattered around, like little Lego pieces in the rug that find your bare feet when you are busy trying to go about your business.  My growing hunger, my growing idleness, my growing lack of motivation to do much of ANYTHING, my growing inability to deal with any sort of chaos.

Of course, life with small children is pretty much nothing BUT chaos.

It starts in with a sense of panic.  It doesn’t take much to trigger it; a slow loading laptop, a child crying in the background, another child asking constant questions, noise from the television, a deadline to get something done.  It all amounts to feeling as though the walls are closing on you and FAST.  And it gets worse and worse and worse.  Before you know it, you blow your stack.  Someone gets yelled at.  Something snaps.

If I’m lucky, after the smoke clears and everyone and everything has settled back down, I feel blank.  An almost unwilling calm.  A deadpan expression, a numbness.  The limit has been reached and Marilyn has checked out for a while.  Please leave a message and she’ll get back to you.

I almost wish I could feel that way all the time.  Because the panic and anxiety are so much WORSE.

For now, the numbness remains.  I am lucky.  For now.

So I'll talk about this instead

I don’t want to talk about the topic that is currently buzzing around my head because it’s full of venom and I could potentially get myself into deep blog-trouble here.  Not too deep, because I know you guys (my peeps!) would pull me back out, but I would hover very dangerously close to being an unkind blog and I don’t really want to go that way. Not right now at least.  Maybe tomorrow.

I also don’t want to talk about how even though I appreciate every one of your comments on last night’s post, I STILL have not called a doctor (I have to find a new one, which is providing to be a lion’s share of the problem here) and made an appointment and now it’s too late in the day and MEH, I almost even don’t care anymore which means, of course THE THYROID IS WINNING.


So instead, I will talk about my husband’s latest post about Evie sleeping in her own crib.  Now, I fully recognize that he’s trying to engage me with his inflammatory language about me making excuses and wah wah wah (I don’t do that, do I?).   But I want the Internets to know that I did have some good excuses for why we didn’t start putting Evie in her crib over the weekend.  Kile’s parents were visiting and were staying in that room so it would have been a little CROWDED and I’m sure they wouldn’t have cared for me stomping in there at 3am to fetch a crying baby, right?  That’s also my reason for not putting her in there last week after we got home from my parents’ house and before his parents came.  I figured why start something we can’t continue with consistency, right?

You’re on my side, RIGHT?

ANYHOW.  The point of this whole vignette is that Kile put Evie in her crib last night shortly after 9:30 and she stayed there until after 2:30 this morning.  Even then, I’m not sure she wouldn’t have just gone back to sleep but I just wanted to go in and get her anyhow.  Because as nice as it was not to have her toes stabbing into my stretch marks and being squeezed out to the edge of our enormous bed, I wasn’t sleeping all that great without her there.  I think I was listening for her on the monitor.  Plainly put?  I missed her.

I put her up there for her afternoon nap but she didn’t stay in there.  I put her down about 12:30 and she would sleep and then wake up and cry a little and fall right back to sleep like a minute later.  At about ten after 2, she seemed to be awake and crying more so I went in and got her.  I nursed her in my bed and she fell back asleep (yanking me in after her, like she often will do).  She slept up in our bed until about 4:30.  WOW.  Girl got her nap ON today!

We’ll see what happens tonight.  I think I’ll let Kile lay her down again, since that seemed to work well.  I won’t deny that it freaked me out having her up there in her crib all alone.  Where I couldn’t see her.  Even now, I’m gazing at her in her bouncer seat (where’s avidly playing with her own fingers) and I just want to snatch her up and cover her in kisses.

So yeah.  That’s what I’m talking about instead of the other things on my mind.  Anyone else have any good stories of moving their babies to their cribs that can bolster my fragile mommy ego?