Relief

I have a few minor chronic health issues. One of them is a thyroid issue.

This week I had an appointment at my endochronologist's office. In general, I detest the appointments. Quite frankly, my dislike for the appointments has less to do with the doctor himself and more to do with my cheapness and laziness. You see, the doc is located downtown. It typically takes me about 45 minutes to get the appointment and even longer to make my way home. This usually requires me to take a half-day off of work. Further, I must pay for parking. This whole situation would not be that big of deal except for the fact that the doctor spends about five minutes with me. I'm convinced this interaction could take place via phone provided that he has my lab results sent to him. Oh, did I mention this man orders me to have blood taken? Hmpff. I hate needles!

As per my usual mode of operation, I avoided the doctor for as long as possible. I did not make a follow-up appointment until he threatened not to provide me with a refill for my thyroid medications. (In my defense though -- he TOTALLY cancelled on ME last time I made an appointment). For the record, without my thyroid medications I can barely function. I cannot concentrate. I am easily agitated. Most notably, I am exhausted. Thus, the little pills are a necessity for me.

I was quite pleased with myself for making it to the office on time. As I sat in the waiting room reading smutty magazines, I reprimanded myself for procrastinating about the appointment for so long. Finally, the nurse called me back.

As always, the nurse had me hop on the scale. My worries were confirmed: I've put on weight. A lot. There went my afternoon. Really, what is worse than having your horrible thoughts about yourself confirmed by an external source?

I sat and scowled regarding my weight. Damn. I should be more aware of my habits. I need to learn a little self control. Maybe I should even join Weight Watchers like every other person I know. It seems to be working for them. I was disgusted with myself.

Somewhere in the middle of my self-loathing, the doctor walked in the room. He greeted me and asked me how I was doing. I replied I was fine. He asked me a second time. Again, I made a comment regarding how life was pretty typical although a bit warmer than usual. His reply caught me off guard. He said something to the effect of, "Lets cut through the crap. We both know you don't feel well".

Huh?

The doctor and I discussed my current levels, which were more than a little low. He commented regarding his surprise that I can function. I mentioned my increased agitation in the afternoon before I take my second dose of my pill. We problem-solved regarding what the best mode of treatment would be for me. He made a couple of changes, told me to give them a few weeks, and ordered additional blood tests. He then sent me on my way. As always, the interaction lasted about 5 minutes.

As I walked out to the lobby, I all of the sudden felt an overwhelming urge to cry (an experience I do not often have). I felt relieved. He acknowledged - no, he called me out. All of the sudden my inability to sleep for more than 2.5 hours at a time made sense. My inability to read more than a few pages at a time was explained. My reduced patience fit too. The doctor, in just a minute or two, acknowledged that something was biologically off. As it turns out, my lack of energy, poor concentration, sleep issues, weight, etc. are not all due to the fact that I am a failure. They're not simply the result of my inability to balance a hectic schedule or the development of some new diagnosis. They're not necessarily due to stress or poor self-care. He helped me identify a patten of odd behaviors that compromise my overall effectiveness and gave me the opportunity to acknowledge the same rather than attributing this or that to whatever even was before me (i.e. 'Of course I'm tired, I've been at work for 15 hours' or 'It makes sense that I wake up at all hours of the night. J works nights and shows up at 4 in the morning'). Further, with some minor adjustments, I should feel better in no time at all. I am fixable. It is no big deal.

With that, I feel relief. I feel relief that I no longer need to ignore/attribute oddities of my life. I feel relief that this was pointed out to me. I feel relief that I can finally acknowledge things as they really are rather than faking my way through each day pretending I do not notice. I feel relief that I may be better soon.