Hyperthyroid (I’m a Wreck)

Compare for yourself from the pictures above: less that three months ago, at Christmastime, I was full-jowled and jolly. I would even wear funny hats. Now look at me. I’ve lost twenty pounds, I’m weak as a kitten, I'm exhausted all the time, my heart is always going like bongos, my voice is hoarse, I’m itchy and I’m restricted from coffee. It’s almost impossible to e-mail, can’t write, after work the most I can do is read. Watching lots of TV, “Intervention”, “Ghost Hunters”.

The doctor recommended a drug called Methimazole. It has potential side-effects: it can cause a rash on your chest, nausea, itching, muscle pain, headache, drowsiness, or change in taste (?). That sounds about as bad as, if not worse than, what I got now. I went to see the doctor yesterday to hear about the alternates.

“Well,” says he, “If you can’t tolerate Methimazole, you can swallow a radioactive capsule that will neutralize your thyroid permanently. You’ll have to take hormones for the rest of your life. Or we could remove your thyroid surgically and you would also have to take hormones for the rest of your life.” I chuckled in disbelief.

“That’s a very narrow alley of treatments,” says I. He did not chuckle with me.

I picked up the Methimazole at the pharmacy on the way home. Took my first dose last night, gonna take my second dose in a few minutes. The doctor says it’ll take three weeks to feel the good of it. I still feel terrible, but so far no chest rash, etc.

And what’s worse, when Nicole and I met Mom for St. Patrick’s Day dinner at Coco’s they had already run out of corned beef and cabbage. They said they ran out at about 3 p.m.