Low Thyroid Hormone: or Why Am I So Confused

The thing about depression is, you just don't care.  Well, I shouldn't say that - it's not that I don't care, it's that my brain won't let me care.  The impenetrable wall that has been chemically formed prevents my brain from focusing too long on tasks. I'm frustrated with pretty much everything right now.  Angry that I can't get my ass in gear to work.  

You know those commercials on TV, where the depressed person is living with a scribble cloud over their heads, like some new-age version of Pig-Pen?  While I don't quite feel that way, I can relate a bit more now.  For me, it's as if tiny little soldiers with spears are preventing my thoughts from going anywhere.  I am confused more easily, too.  Granted, I have never considered myself sharp (except with comments and humor), but this last week has had my brain in a swamp.  

My doctor said it would take some months for my hormone levels to change and for us to dial in my synthetic Thyroid, but I never expected this level of blah.  To the point that even doing nothing irritates me.  I'm 14 and angsty again.  Angry at the drop of a hat, frustrated, depressed.  On other days all is well, which is the fucky thing, right?  That further confuses me - if I have low hormone then it should stay low, right?  What's with the ups-and-downs bullshit? 

On March 3rd I go in again and get checked, so hopefully a few days after that I'll start feeling better.  The scar is healing nicely though, and I should be able to drive in the next few weeks here.  So that's good.  

Not a very interesting post, but it's honest, and that's really the point. 

Thyroid-Free

It's been about a week now since I was let loose from the Hospital.  Things are still going well.  They could always be better, though they could always be worse, too.

This past week was spent in a sitting position on the couch.  We - and by we I mean Taren - rearranged the living room so that I could lounge around and still watch TV, which is about the only activity I could muster any energy for.  When they tell you "recovery is hard", it really is.  There is so much passive energy required to mend you that you just feel tired all the time.  But it's not the sort of tired you get when you are sick or just haven't slept well the previous night.  It's less physical and more mental, if that makes any sense.  Your mind just starts to shut down, redirecting it's efforts into making you sleep.  It's auto-pilot for your brain, really.  And it's near impossible to fight off.

I had to spend my nights on the couch, since that was the only way I could sleep in a position that put the least amount of pressure on my neck.  Having a neck wound is interesting, in that it's the only way to truly understand just how much your neck plays a role in even the tiniest of movements (something the doctors tell you nothing about). Reaching up, lifting, pushing, pulling, sitting up, sitting down, reaching out, turning over, etc. All now limited for me until further notice.  Thank The Lord I stocked up on plenty of Taren before going into surgery.  Yes, Taren - the do-all, be-all for todays fashionable invalid!

Another thing you don't hear much about is pain medication and it's related side effects.  Mainly constipation.  I'll be as brief on this subject as possible, but it's a very important one for Todays Invalid to know about.  I got sent home with some Norcos - essentially Tylenol with pain killer added.  The first few days were fine, so I didn't really need to take them, save to get some decent rest. As things start to come online, I was taking 4 a day there for about 3 days.  Then I realized I was pregnant.  At least, I must have been, because my body was trying its best to give birth to something.  Something foul, and unpleasant.  Something ... dangerous.  And softball-sized.   Needless to say I got very far in my book that day, sitting there waiting to pass this mass.  I haven't taken a NorCo since.

I'm still not to clear on how much of my neck will regain feeling.  All the work was done on the left side of me, so most of my neck in that area is without feeling.  Which is a total misnomer, because there is SOME feeling there.  Or at least a perceived feeling.   Maybe my nerves are just sensing the pressure of my finger on my skin and I'm interpreting that as feeling.  I dunno, but it feels weird.  Sort of like when you sleep on your arm and then wake up and try to move it, but without the pins-and-needles feeling that goes along with it.  Dead skin but with some life to it.  Makes shaving very hard, actually, because you have no idea how much pressure to use with the razor.  It's literally like shaving someone else's face.

So, back to the cancer.  I have no updates on that front, but I should have something more to say about it in two weeks when I see the doctor again.  For now, my life is just about trying to get back to normal with work and coping with the new and odd sensations as my neck starts to come back online.

I miss the zipper scars of days gone by ...