The Birds & The Bees...and Aliens.

Up early to go to the doctors this morning. But no matter how early we get there, we're never first...do the locals camp out there overnight, seriously? Might go the night before in the camper van myself next time!

Dragged the husband along with me this time. He's got an alien growing on his foot, and he's been whingeing about it for ages, but then refusing to go to the doctor's about it...so I tricked him, by saying that I hoped to discuss our brand-new baby-making future with her, and wanted him there for the discussion. Sneaky wife!

Turns out its not an alien after all...its a ganglion (AKA Bible Bumps)...and that means I can legitimately thump him with heavy books, even the doctor said so**. But in the meantime, in case my domestic abuse with heavy books doesn't work, she's going to refer him to the local hospital to have it removed under local anaesthetic.
(**Apparently, the old-fashioned treatment for ganglions was to hit them with heavy books, most commonly Bibles!)

We did discuss our future of baby-making, so I didn't totally lie to him. We have agreed that I will stop my current blood pressure meds, Omesar Plus. As they are *NOT* suitable for use during conception, pregnancy etc. My blood pressure this morning was 145/67, which she was pleased with. I am to start taking my blood pressure regularly at home again, now that I am stopping the meds (I let that habit slip a little ) and if it does start to rise again, she can prescribe me another pregnancy-friendly BP med instead. We postulated that since my thyroid levels were now good, as well as stable...that any lingering blood pressure issues are now solely down to my weight/lifestyle. So if it stays down, even after I have stopped my HBP meds, then I will be doubly happy.
We also discussed my age, and how that was a factor, time was against me etc etc. And whilst she would normally advise couples to go off, have fun, and come back if nothing has happened after a year...given my age, and pre-existing health issues, she has advised that we come back after 6 months instead if there is no 'stork' news, so we can start looking for, and dealing with, any problems sooner.

Obviously, I need to start taking the pre-pregnancy vitamins again - I stopped them after my Difene scare earlier in the year - I cut out everything pill-wise that was non-essential for a while, and then I didn't get back into the habit of taking them again. I will be taking Pregnacare Plus

On the subject of Difene - she has prescribed me an alternative pain-killer, just for those really bad (thankfully rare) days when paracetamol just isn't cutting it on those period pains. Fingers crossed this one doesn't have me heading to hospital in an ambulance again!

Almost forgot...shameful since this IS predominantly a thyroid blog...she also took routine thyroid bloods for testing. Been 3 months since my last set, and if these are OK, which I'm confident they will be, we'll go to 6-monthly intervals.

Until next time...I'm off to weigh some books, and pick out the heaviest ones!

This is NOT an April Fool!

"Hello love, this is not an April Fool" is how I started the telephone call to the husband this morning.

"But I really don't feel very well, and I think I need an ambulance" is how it continued.

Can only imagine how the poor fella felt upon hearing these words. He was over an hour away in Kilkenny this morning, instead of being at the farm less than a mile away...but I felt so odd, so very ill, and I knew the quickest way to get an ambulance here was to let him deal with it.

We live in a rural part of Ireland...where your address is your townsland, not your property name. Properties around here don't generally have nice identifying names, like "The White Cottage" or similar, and a host of local houses, farms and dwellings would all share the same postal address. And roads don't have names or numbers either. We've been here for 7 years, but if chatting to a local, trying to describe where you live, all efforts draw a blank face, until you say its T** M****'s old cottage or next to J** E*****'s dairy parlour...and then the facial expression changes to one of total recognition. And I knew that time was running out for my mental capacities, and me trying to explain to the Emergency Dispatch operator where exactly to send the ambulance was going to be nigh on impossible. So I handed that responsibility to my husband so that I could concentrate on trying to remain upright, and trying to keep breathing...a feat which was getting more and more difficult to maintain by the second.

What was going on? Well, at the time I didn't have a clue. All I knew was that something was seriously wrong. It had come on suddenly, and was getting worse, very quickly!

That morning, as usual, I got up, set the coffee machine going, took the dogs out for a wee, poured a mug of coffee. Took a blood pressure pill, with a swallow of coffee. I'd been up a bit during the night with bad period pains, and could feel them just starting to niggle. Day 2 of my cycle,and if any day is going to be bad, typically it is day 2....so as I have done, on every other bad cycle day (thankfully few 7 far between) I decided to take a Difene, to get a head start on it, before the pain took hold and nothing would shift it. Difene shouldn't be taken on an empty stomach, but not feeling hungry, I drank a glass of milk with it instead. As I have done almost every other time I've taken it, or other meds that need to be taken with or after food.

I settled with my mug of coffee, to watch a bit of mindless television, do a bit of knitting (rock & roll!) and sort out in my head what I needed to do for the day ahead.

Then, woompf...my head felt hot, very hot, psycho hot...like it was going to explode. I swear, if I'd looked in a mirror at that very second I would not have been surprised to see my whole head raspberry red and glowing. Then the itching started...mad itching, everywhere, I just couldn't scratch fast enough, hard enough, or in enough places at the same time. It felt like my entire skin was crawling. Then my heart started racing, I had the sense of mind to check my pulse in my neck, and it came back at a whopping 130/min...yikes! I fumbled for my home blood pressure machine, and struggled to get it on my left arm...all the while the itching was unbearable, and my head was boiling. "ERROR", try again, "ERROR". Chest feels tight, struggling to get air in....so that's when I decided I needed to make a call. "Hello love, this is not an April Fool..."

I tried 3 more times to get the blood pressure machine to take a reading, but I just kept coming back with "ERROR".

Husband phones back, the ambulance is on its way.

So, my practical side kicks in, and I think of the things I need to do before they get here whilst I can still just about stand and move about. Legs are very wobbly, breathing is now really hard work and my head is spinning with mega-dizzy spells, but I get the dogs shut away. I find my hoody, and make sure my mobile phone is in my handbag. I put my handbag near the front door. I grab my meds box and stick it on the kitchen table. That way I can easily direct the paramedics to see what I have taken that morning. I am surprised looking back now, remembering how awful (and scared) I felt at the time, at how sensible, practical and organised I was, in getting stuff sorted and ready for their arrival. But by the time they got here (not sure how long, but less than 10 mins) I had given up. Front door was wide open, bedroom door was wide open, and I was lying on the bed, unable to stand up anymore, in total agony from severe abdominal pains which have come out of nowhere, and seemingly have come to join the *fun party* that the rest of my body is having at my expense. My head is feeling like a piping hot baked potato, chest so tight I can barely draw breath, my speech is slurred and finding words in my head is almost impossible and my pulse has now massively slowed down and is so feint I can hardly feel it. And, whilst going through all this, all I can think of is "I hope ***** isn't working today because the house is a mess!" (our landlord is a paramedic).

When they do arrive I see that another paramedic friend is working today instead, and the very first thing I manage to blurt out is "I'm so glad its you working and not *****, please don't tell him about the mess in the hallway." A girl has to get her priorities right! But that outburst takes away all my remaining energy, and I collapse back on the bed, and can only then manage to grunt and gurgle at them in answer to all the questions they're firing at me. I have stuff stuck on me, things poked in me, torches shined at me, hands pressing me, and feel their blood pressure cuff inflating again and again and again. Its not reading, so they take a 2nd blood pressure machine out of the ambulance and that takes two more efforts before it finally gives a reading....low, very, very low...obviously too low for my humble home machine to detect, and the paramedic's first machine couldn't read it either. They do more stuff to me, fire more questions at me, then I'm put in the ambulance.

Various sticky electrodes are stuck on me, and I'm plugged into the heart trace machine. The abdominal pain is becoming totally unbearable, being strapped flat on the ambulance trolley is not helping, I feel I want to curl up in a tight ball and moan loudly, instead they plug the happy gas mask on my face. My friend is wondering if I've tweaked my vagus nerve, causing the blood pressure to crash. But that only explains one symptom doesn't it. I'm feeling a little better, and almost able to hold a proper conversation. But the abdominal pains are coming in waves now, so I go quiet every now and then and ride the pain through as best I can.
We discuss last night's meal, in case food poisoning is another option. But I get the impression he's really scratching his head over this one.
The conversation keeps coming back to the Difene. Did I eat anything, have I taken it before, why did I take it, what as it prescribed for.
At one point I ask them to turn back (only half joking) because I've left my knitting on the table. Surprisingly they don't.

When we get to the hospital I feel fine. I really do feel fine. I joke that if they are heading back to my home town (where the local ambulance station is located) could they give me a lift. They are having none of it, and I'm taken into the A & E department. By this time my blood pressure is almost back to normal. My blood sugars are good (they always check this, I obviously look like I *should* be diabetic). My pulse is back to normal. Only the dizziness and abdominal pains remain. They are similar to period pains, but in slightly the wrong place.

The duty doctor tries to take bloods...I say tries...I really have no idea what he was doing. But by the time he'd finished there was blood all down my top, all down my arm, all over the bed, all over my thigh...and very little in the sample tube. He stuck a cannula in, so that if more was needed he didn't have to go digging. I swear I looked like car crash victim by the time he finished taking blood. I am SO thankful to have a wonderful GP who is seemingly a true artist when it comes to taking blood samples...no pain, not even a scratch, no marks, nothing. If I would give her 10/10 for her phlebotomy skills, I'd struggle to give the A &E doc 1/10...! I don't know quite how he did the cannula either, but all the while the cannula was in I couldn't bend that arm, and it was almost constant pain, felt like I had a knife in there, stuck at right angles. Perhaps it was intentional, to keep my mind off my other symptoms?

He paraded a line on fellow doctors past me, all asking the same questions and doing the same things to me. But it all kept coming back to the Difene.

Then the news filtered back from the labs that the first blood samples had haemolyzed...quelle surprise! And so he came at me with the test tubes again for more blood...and even with cannula in place, still managed to spill more blood all down me!

At this point the abdominal pains were all but gone, and I hadn't had a dizzy spell for a while. Getting fed up with his incompetence, I was ready to go home. But oh no, he was adamant that I needed to be admitted overnight, for observation. We had a bit of a row over it, and he dragged out a form for me to sign, acknowledging that I was leaving against medical advice. I said I didn't want to leave against medical advice, but I didn't want to take up a precious bed space when I was clearly feeling fine, so would much rather he discharged me.

The bloods came back fine. They also did a thyroid panel, standard procedure because I don't have a thyroid gland, but those results wouldn't be back for 2 days. But the immediate blood results were all grand. I repeated that I wanted to go home. He insisted I stay in overnight. Round and round we went.

I got sent to the Clinical Assessment ward. 3 More consultants came and asked me the same questions, poked me in the same places, and all muttered about Difene. One more consultant came in, read through my notes, murmured to himself. Then stated that whilst they would like me to stay in for observation, they were also happy for me to go home if I preferred, on the understanding that if any of the symptoms occurred again I was to come straight back. Yay! A compromise I was entirely happy with! They removed my sexy hospital ID bracelet, and a nurse, sent from the gods, finally removed the evil cannula...without spilling a single drop of blood, amazing! The final diagnosis was that although they couldn't say 100%, the mostly likely candidate was an anaphylactic reaction to the Difene. Mild in many ways (no throat swelling etc), serious in others (racing pulse, BP crash, shortness of breath), but if that was mild, I can only imagine how scary a full-on anaphylactic attack is...this morning I was truly terrified.

My husband rocks, and I apologise wholeheartedly for giving him the phone call from hell this morning. The remaining Difene tabs are going back to the chemist tomorrow, to be disposed of.

My Head Is Spinning

"I don't know what's going on right now. I'm a little foggy, a little dizzy. It's crazy. Crazy!" Robbie Ginepri, American Tennis Player

I know exactly how he feels! I have been getting dizzy spells the last few days, just little ones...but they're becoming more frequent.

My pharmacist warned me about dizzy spells and feeling woozy when I first picked up my script for Eltroxin. She said if I felt a bit weird to head to my GP and get my blood pressure checked, just in case. She claimed that Eltroxin could sometimes cause your blood pressure to plummet, as your body adjusted to it etc.

So I checked my BP at home just now, after my most recent dizzy spell, and its fine (and yes, I have checked the accuracy of my own machine against my doctor's sphygmomanometer). My BP came in at 123/87....at the high end of normal, but not quite into the high-normal range, if that makes sense...but definitely not low, which is what the pharmacist warned me of.

Looking forward to getting my blood tests done again next week, was just discussing with hubby that I *think* I might be going slightly hyper....just a hunch. But the last couple of days I can't sit still, I want to be doing stuff constantly...real ants-in-your-pants, fidgety frustration and anxiousness (without being quite full blown anxiety) to get up and go...do stuff. I'm going to bed stupid late (around 2am) and lying there with my head buzzing to bursting point with thoughts and ideas, because I'm not tired, then up early in the morning raring to go, but with nothing to do, and getting frustrated with that...or with so much to do, but not enough cognitive organisation to get stuck into anything, so I don't know where to start!
I also can't keep a thought in my head for more than 30 seconds, and I imagine trying to hold a sensible conversation with me right now is a total nightmare, as I keep jumping from subject to subject, with no logical train of thought....just blurting things out as they come into my head, because if I don't I'll forget what I was thinking about.

Uh oh - New Meds Blues

Took my first dose of Eltroxin this morning...and it went straight through me :(

Checked the data sheet, and sure enough diarrhoea and stomach cramps are listed as a side-effect.

99% sure that its the Eltroxin...as my other meds haven't changed at all in the last 5 days.

I guess only time will tell. At the end of the day, now that I'm technically hypothyroid, there aren't too many options for medication...so my body is just going to have to suck it up princess!

Other than that...I guess I feel OK. Still wiped out, wobbly & tired....but SO nice to sleep in my own bed last night.
Although I still found myself waking up at 2am waiting for my bloods to be taken, waking up at 4am for my blood pressure to be checked, 6am for the drugs trolley, and was most surprised that my surgeon was a "no-show" in my bedroom at 8am...although, if he had turned up, my husband would have been incredibly surprised! Ha ha!

Hospital food, and TV wars!

[posted retrospectively & not necessarily in order - 1st June, day after the op]

At some point in the afternoon I was moved to a semi-private room, where I shared with another girl. She'd just come back after developing some problems a week after tonsil surgery.
She proceeded to hog the TV remote control, stuck it on mute, then when Desperate Housewives came on later that evening I had to endure it at top volume (when she was discharged the next morning, the very first thing I did was grab the remote control from the side of her bed!)
I was still too tired & spaced to bother with resurrecting any sense of fairness over the TV availability, so I just plugged the iPod into my ears, and watched the moving pictures until Mum and Hubby turned up during visiting hours.

I still wasn't eating very much. I'd forced down a yogurt for breakfast, under great duress from stern-looking nurses. I accepted some soup for lunch, but couldn't get past one mouthful.
Don't get me wrong, I know hospital food doesn't generally have a great reputation world-wide, but I was pleasantly surprised by the variety, tastiness and quality of the hospital food I was given. When my appetite did return I really enjoyed each and every meal. But for now, I just wasn't hungry.

At some point during the morning they emptied the vacuum pump on my surgical chest drain. Overnight it had sucked lots of blood & goo out of me, and I was now becoming more aware of this hose sticking out of the front of my chest. They kept calling it a tube, but it certainly felt like a ruddy great hose! And it was really starting to be a very sore pain-in-the-arse. I had a little clip on the container, so when I went off for walkies ( the nurses were adamant that I should be marching laps of the hospital on a very regular basis - what happened to rest & recuperation?) I could clip the vacuum container-thingy onto my clothing...and thus I could march about, with my lovely container of blood and goo on full public show, hanging off the lapel of my dressing gown...nice!

My surgeon came around at some point in the morning, to tell me how pleased he was about how it had all gone. He apologised for the size of the scar, but said it was as small as he could manage, given the size of the goitre.

Roughly every 6 hours, day & night, a vampire came visiting (different one each time) stealing lots of blood from my poor right arm, and disappearing off with a swish of their cape.
On the strength of these visits I was kept informed of the fact that despite being a Grave's Hyper patient my calcium levels hadn't dipped at all, but that they would continue to monitor them, We all concurred that this can only be due to the sterling work I had been doing with my Endo's Senior Registrar over the last few months, chipping away at my carbimazole dose, ever so slowly, so that for the first time in over 2½ years my blood levels not only come down into range, but had also stayed in range for over 6 weeks. My surgeon had explained to me that the more Hyper I was at the time of the operation, the more my calcium would crash as my body went into instant withdrawal. So thanks to Dr. R and his endless patience and gentle ways, we were pretty much as good as it gets on the day of the operation. But also many thanks to my surgeon, for having a steady hand and not harassing my parathyroid glands whilst he was in there digging about with his scalpel, as that was another common cause of a calcium crash.

Late in the afternoon new girl moved into the bed next door. She was brought in with stomach pains, and put on our ward for observation as there were no beds available on the general wards. We got on great, and came to a mutually beneficial agreement over the TV Remote. She made me laugh so many times, and listened carefully when my mother joined the nurses in nagging me to go walking. She made it her mission to take me off for random walks around the place, as and when she'd decided I'd been laying around too long. If you ever read this, and recognise yourself as that girl, well, thanks J, you were a star!

Meanwhile mum and hubby, when they weren't being doting relatives beside my bed, and listening to my alternating mumbling, croaking & whingeing, were amusing themselves between the 2 shifts of visiting hours, by shopping lots in the local shopping centre and sampling all the muffins in the coffee shops they found!

A friend of mine worked on a neighbouring ward, so she kept me sane too, by popping in whenever she got a chance to make sure I was OK and had everything I needed. She helped break up the long, slow mornings between drug rounds, vampire visits and blood pressure checks. Thanks N, you rock too!

And just for the gore-fans amongst you, here are some pics of my neck and chest drain, taken less than 24 hours after the operation...absolutely no idea what I had to smile about....I was sore, woozy, uncomfortable & grumpy - it must have been a morphine-induced smile, is all I can say! :)

Sleep, At Last

[posted retrospectively]

I don't remember being taken up to the ward from the Recovery Room...no that's a lie, I *vaguely* remember being wheeled somewhere, and muttering about travel sickness.

Then I remember my mother and the Ward Sister working as a team to get me off the trolley and on to the hospital bed. More bright lights, more 'wake up and talk to us' torture.

Lots of unplugging and plugging in of various things attached to my body.

I tried to keep my eyes shut as much as I was allowed, those lights really were bright, and seemed to be directly in my line of sight!

The automatic blood pressure machine was permanently attached to my right arm and seemed to blow itself up every 5 minutes. I had a mask, feeding me lovely oxygen, strapped on my face and just lay there, allowing all these busy folks do all their busy things to me.
I don't know how long hubby and mum stayed with me, but I know they were there for a good while. I can't imagine I was very good company though.
And I do recall Jon going off downstairs to the smoking area for a cigarette, and contacting Mum because the Security Nazis wouldn't let him back up to the ward.
And even when the Ward Sister contacted them directly to allow him up they still refused, and made him sit in the Main Reception Area and wait until *official visiting hours*.
What a pair of utter, utter bastards...and I make absolutely NO apologies for my language.
His wife is up there, having just come up from the Recovery Room after a major op, where she was held longer than normal due to a complication (which hasn't been fully explained to me yet). He's worried sick, and even the dictat of the Ward Sister herself isn't enough for this pair of gob-shite jobsworths to let my husband *back* up to the ward, where he's been ALL DAY LONG! Rant over - but I remember at the time I was distressed because he wasn't there, and the more I think about it, now that I know the facts, the more angry it makes me! Totally unnecessary!

I woke up in the middle of the night, needing a pee, and not knowing how to go about it. I wasn't confident about getting out of bed, added to that all the wires, and tubes had me fixed to the bed in some weird cat's cradle set-up. I couldn't find a call-bell, and so I waited patiently until I spied some nurses, and proceeded to croak at them as best I could...more than a little confused that 'croaking' was the best I could muster. I did succeed in getting their attention and they found my call-bell (it had fallen off the side of the bed) and we formulated a plan to get me up and over to the bathroom. Once I was free(-er) from my tubes & wires, I sat up and swung my legs out....which caught them both by surprise, then I stood up and they both looked a little shocked. Then I sat back down again, fast, before I fell down.....major head swim! We went back to the well formulated plan, and I was soon shuffling towards the bathroom door for a well- earned pee.
Then I shuffled back again, but had a mini panic attack just as I got back to the bed, as I had literally run out of breath, and couldn't breathe....now that was scary. I remember looking at them wide-eyed, and they placed me back in bed, and soon had that lovely oxygen mask on my face again....aaaaah!
Once my breathing had settled and my oxygen levels had improved, they dragged me out of bed again. I was still in my theatre scrubs, and we all agreed that if I could possibly manage to get into my pyjamas than I would a hundred times more comfortable. We picked out what I would wear, and then I stood there feeling utterly helpless, whilst they removed the sexy back-less gown, the sex-kitten disposable knickers and replaced them with much less exotic cotton knickers and comfy pyjamas...I was allowed (told) to keep the sexy surgical stockings on.
Then back to bed, where I was not only *allowed* to go to sleep, it was positively encouraged this time!
At some point, later that night, a vampire came in and drained my right arm of blood..at least I think that's what happened. The vampire was good enough to put a plaster on it afterwards though.

Low BP...eek!

Checked my blood pressure not long after I posted earlier, as I was feeling really, really crappy and it came in at a worryingly low 113/55
Will keep an eye on that for the next few days...due to go into my GP for blood tests next Monday, and hopefully I won't have to go in beforehand!

I'm on medication for High Blood Pressure (Hypertension)...namely Omesar Plus...and it would be nice not to have to take them anymore, but I'm not holding out much hope...I think it was just one of those blips.

Routine Bloodtests 14th July 2009

I should have done these yesterday, but figured a trip to the hospital to see the ENT surgeon was enough excitement for one day. I'm currently on a monthly blood test schedule, as requested by my Endo, and as I'm due to visit him next week I normally schedule tests one week before my Endo appointment, in order to get the results back in time for him.

Was due to work in the shop today, so headed down to the doctor's surgery bright and early to be first in the queue....but no matter how early I get there (8.50am this morning) the car park is always already full when I get there, ho hum!

For some reason the needle really hurt going in this morning, and I'm truly not a wimp about these things....but my arm has remained sore all day!

I mentioned the strange patch of dark skin and dark hair under my chin (about the size of a 50c piece), and we joked that with everything else going on the last thing I need is to be growing a beard! She took an extra vial of blood and said she'd get my hormones checked this time around too.

She checked my blood pressure, and for the first almost the first time ever she was pleased with the result. When it came in at 150/80 even I cheered! Its always consistently lower when I check it at home, and after checking the accuracy of my personal BP monitor against her own sphygmomanometer in the surgery a while back, we concluded that I can occasionally suffer from white coat syndrome (Google it!) when it comes to checking my BP in the surgery. So, it seems we've finally found a blood pressure medication that seems to suit me. I did ask if there was a cheaper, generic alternative....my current BP medication (Omesar Plus) comes in at €1.24 per daily dose....and she raided her 'Sample Cupboard' and gave me 6 weeks worth, totally free of charge...result! She's done this for me in the past, and it really helps when my cash flow is so miserable.

She tried to ring the hospital x-ray department to see if she could do a 'hurry-up' on my CT Scan appointment, but all the phones were engaged, so she promised she would try again for me later, if only to make sure that a request had indeed been put in by my endo for an appointment on my behalf.

I weighed myself in my pyjamas this morning, and came in 13 lbs lighter than yesterday....amazing what a full set of clothes, and a pair of steel toe-cap boots can weigh!

Hopefully my blood results will be back on Friday, if not Monday at the latest, so I can update my graphs for whichever clueless intern gets to deal with me on Tuesday...watch this space!

ENT Surgeon Appointment - 13 July 2009

Out of bed early, after an exhausting week away. I wake up dizzy, and continue to have short dizzy spells as I got about my morning chores. A little perturbed I check my blood pressure. It comes in at 144/75, systolic is a little high at 144, but diastolic is good at less than 80...neither reading would explain the dizzy spells, so I put it down the last remaining dregs of this head cold I've been suffering from.
A quick bath, then I head up the road. I'm getting used to the alarming amount of hair that comes out when I wash my hair, regardless of the amount of conditioner I use...but its still distressing to see all that lovely hair just falling out all over the place, with very little encouragement. I often get my husband to detangle my hair after a bath/shower as I just find it too upsetting. Its easier to close my eyes and let him deal with it...out of sight, out of mind.

Its over an hours' drive to the hospital and all the way I'm chasing the ETA on my Sat Nav, inevitably I'm running late and getting stressed.
I land at the receptionist's desk at 10.57am, for an 11am appointment...and proceed to be ignored for 5 minutes as the two receptionists go about their business, discussing last night's TV with passing nurses, and basically appearing to do all they can to avoid dealing with me. I'm wondering if I'd mistakenly worn my invisible jumper when one of them deigns to notice me.
The checking-in process completed I take my seat, thankful that I'd remembered to pack a book into my handbag.

Two hours later and I'm regretting not putting two books into my bag, as I turn the last page on the book I started just two hours previously.

I sneak out of the open door for a cigarette, leaving my name with a fellow patient, also waiting patiently for their appointment, also two hours after their allotted appointment time.

Finally, 2½ hours after my appointed time of 11am I am called in to see Dr H. The first thing he asks me is if I've had my CT Scan yet. Sadly the reply is negative, and I can see from his expression that this meeting is kind of pointless without the CT results. We joke good naturedly about hospital efficiency. I point out that I am returning to the hospital in one week's time to see my Endocrinologist anyway, and wouldn't it be great if the CT Scan was scheduled for the same day, to save me an extra trip into the hospital...and we both laugh at this highly unlikely scenario. That would make far too much sense to whomever is responsible for scheduling such things.
Undeterred by my lack of CT Scan results, he proceeds to poke and prod at my neck anyway. He has a good poke in my ears (heaven only knows why?), pokes his torch up my nose....(well I suppose as an ENT Surgeon he wants to get his money's worth from any patient), before sticking his hands around my throat again for a further squeeze. He squirts yucky tasting stuff up my nose and assures me that my nose and throat will shortly go numb. I can taste ammonia, he tells me its benzocaine based....either way it stinks, and tastes horrible as it slides down the back of my throat....but it isn't half as unpleasant as the huge long scope he then pokes up my nose, and pushes down my throat. Quite a strange sensation....I don't think my throat is as numb as it should be, I can feel every centimetre of it and its at least 30cm long. Feels odd to talk to him, and answer questions, while this huge long piece of cable is sitting at the back of my throat, by way of my left nostril.
After it is removed my nose runs uncontrollably, and the attending nurse kindly passes me a packet of tissues. She advises me not to drink or eat anything for at least an hour, until the anaesthetic properties have worn off.
Dr H ponders what he has seen and announces that he thinks the Goitre on the right side has spread under my collarbone, and that this will make extraction more complicated. We will know more and have a clearer picture once this damned CT Scan has been done, but for now all we can do is speculate. Mysteriously he tells me that if it is down under my collarbone he won't be able to perform the surgery here....I assume 'here' means this hospital, but I'm not too sure what this statement means. he goes on to discuss other things and I forget to ask him to clarify this statement. I must remember to ask my Endo next week if he has any idea what this means.

Then the discussion turned to weightier matters...if you'll pardon the pun. He expressed concerns, on behalf of his anaesthetist, regarding my weight, and he stated that he'd like me to lose a minimum of 6 stone (preferably 8 stone) before he'd consider passing me over to his anaesthetist...I guess this means he won't be scheduling me for surgery either, until I lose this weight....regardless of my CT Scan results, and regardless of my thyroid problems. Oh, and he'd like me to ditch the smoking too...well that's a given, and is high up on my to-do list as it is.
I joked that I'd set about starving myself between now and my next appointment and he did have the good grace to apologise in advance for his crassness, as he quipped that "no fat people came out of Belsen".

I go back to him in 2 months time....14th of September to be precise, and I will try my hardest to have lost at least a stone or two by then. Oh, and I'll be pi**ed off if I haven't managed to give up smoking by then too. If I haven't had my CT Scan by then, well I guess it'll be yet another wasted appointment....got to love the Irish Health System....

All Change on the meds front

Popped into my doctor's surgery today to get some forms filled in, and she decided to check my blood pressure whilst I was there.

I've been on Centyl-K since February, in an attempt to lower my blood pressure, but it was still consistently high.

She decided to stop the Centyl-K, and try me on another hypertension medication, Omesar Plus.
In her words, the Centyl-K isn't working, I may as well be popping Smarties!

Back Once Again

Seems I disappeared for longer than intended.

We had a weekend away camping, and that was disrupted by an emaciated stray dog who entered my life the day before we were due to leave.

So I've been very busy looking after her (still ongoing - and looking like a long term project) and learning all about greyhounds and greyhound mixes and their specific care needs. (She's approximately half the weight she should be)

She's gained 1.36 kilos in weight already though so I'm pleased with her progress...if only she and I could participate in a little weight swap ha ha! I'd gladly donate all of my spare weight to undernourished dogs!

Still off the smokes, and still giving the scales slightly less to hold up each week, so there are two positives already.

My new meds seem to be OK. They cut my Carbimazole back down to 30mg, and I finally relented on my BP Meds Argument, and consented to starting on Centyl-K, a diuretic. I bought a cheapo blood pressure monitor from my local pharmacy, and I've certainly noticed my BP coming down a little, so hopefully my doctor will concur. Maybe I shouldn't have fought against BP meds for all this time after all...?

The walking has slipped though, and I'm cross with myself for letting that go...need a kick up the bum and the discipline to get out there every morning again!

Second Endo Appointment

Well I have to say that I wasn't waiting around very long this time. If anything, they rushed me through as if scared to leave me waiting at all...perhaps throwing a tantrum is the answer to getting seen on time?

They sent me for another ECG, because although I was assured the last one was in the 'OK' range...it must also have been in the 'check again' range.
This time I knew exactly where to go, I was definitely less stressed, and took time out to pause and do some deep breathing exercises before entering the hallowed ECG room. This time my results were deemed 'excellent'! :-)

Upon returning to the outpatients waiting area I was ushered in to a consultation room almost straight away.

I was with a really friendly young intern, and very impressed with her. The appointment went OK - we discussed how I was feeling, if I feeling any different to last time I was in, and why that might be. She suggested a slight dose change because, despite my TSH being within range,, albeit at the high end, my T3 and my Free T4 have gone from being too high to too low. So we dropped my Carbimazole from 40mg/day to 30mg/day.

The consultation all went well, until she checked my blood pressure...she went white with shock, and spent ages peering into my eyes, presumably checking them for any damage. She reckoned that my blood pressure dangerously high, and didn't believe me when I kept insisting I felt totally fine. She claimed that she was almost tempted to admit me there and then, and expressed concern at allowing me to drive home. I continued to insist that I was fine, and that it was most probably White Coat Disease, but she wasn't having it. She conferred with the senior consultant, and they were querying my blood pressure medication...to which I sheepishly had to confess that I hadn't been taking it. Felt pretty stupid, having to confess that if I'm honest. I explained that our money was extremely tight at the moment, and the extra prescription costs were more than I could cope with right now. They gave me some freebie samples of the Centyl-K to go home with, and made me promise to fill that prescription before they ran out. And do you know, something about the abject fear in that young interns face as she checked and re-checked my blood pressure, made me determined to find the money somehow....she was really truly scared by what she was seeing, and was acting as if expecting me to drop down dead any second. That made me feel very bad for ignoring their advice.

Easy Like Sunday Morning

So far so good on the 'smoke-free' front...its been a whole, whopping 6 hours Not quite long enough to officially call myself a non-smoker ha ha!

But I was almost tempted to throw in the non-smoking towel this morning, after an interesting meeting with an unspeakably rude and arrogant microchipping client...a real 'Lady Muck' character, who really made me boil with her superior attitude.
In the end I just drove home, and didn't 'chip the dogs. I was fuming. I do this as a volunteer. I gave up my own time, on a Sunday morning, to accomodate her oh-so-busy-and-oh-so-important life. I'm a volunteer. No-one reimburses me for my petrol (gas). No-one reimburses me for my phone calls. No-one reimburses me for my time. All these things I give freely and willingly. I don't want to be reimbursed for these things. These things, and my expertise with dogs, are my donations towards the SPCA if you like. However, I do expect to be treated in a civil manner. I don't expect to be treated like a common scivvy, nor spoken to like I'm some horrible, inconvenient, piece of dirt on the bottom of her shoe. Grrrrr!
However, rather than having a huge blow-up row with her, I just turned around and drove home, seething and muttering to myself as I drove down her drive......but I didn't rush to the nearest shop and buy a packet of cigarettes, instead I drove to the nearest shop and bought some lovely looking whole-meal baps (bread rolls) for lunch instead.

Oh, I also bought a big fat 2 litre bottle of water....so there's no excuse for not drinking today's water allowance, and then having an emtpy 2 L bottle to fill each and every morning from now on. I'd like to think I turned my negative feelings, after I drove away from the rude person in anger, into a positive outing this morning after all.

Been getting the occasional headache the last couple of days, but I think that's directly connected to that fact that I've been caffeine-free since Thursday evening. I think I read somewhere that headaches were a common withdrawal symptom, so I'm just riding them through, and enjoyng my caffeine-free tea!

Plan for the rest of today.....hubby and I have planned to do as little as possible, and just chill out for the aftternoon and evening. I might even slip back into my pyjamas, then curl up on the sofa with a duvet and a good book...but I'll feel less guilty, because I have at least been out and about, and active this morning.

Under Pressure

So, today I got the results back from my doctor regarding my 24hr blood pressure monitor...and whilst I was pleased enough with the averages, and could positively identify the causes of the 2 high spikes [full caffeine tea, and naughty (read: fighting) dogs]...my doctor was less than pleased. And whilst my 'waking' averages were what most blood pressure/hypertension websites consider the high side of normal or even mild-high, my doctor was still casting doom and gloom, looking at me like I was about to drop dead in front of her, and talking about that oh-so scary BP medication. Meanwhile nearly every BP/Hypertension website claims I'm well within the non-medication range...go figure, because I can't?

The way I look at it....I'm over-weight. I smoke. I currently lead a sedentary (computer-based) lifestyle, with my daily dog walks more closely resembling some mild wandering around the fields, whilst my (7) dogs run themselves into the ground. *I* know there are improvements I could make there, right now...and after the 24hr BP Monitor I'm determined to make some changes.
Oh yeah...I'm also hyperthyroid....and yeah, one of the many myriad of symptoms....high BP....so why do both my doctor and my endocrinologist choose to treat my (mild IMHO) high blood pressure as a totally separate issue, and rain fire and brimstone down on me, threatening imminent death....yet, lump all my other symptoms (hair loss, brittle nails, dry scaly skin, horrific periods, weight gain, mood swings, exopthalmia, chronic lethargy etc etc etc ad infinitum) into the mighty *thyroid* basket, and not treat *those* individually???
On the plus side, and there are a few, my cholesterol levels are low (DoG only knows how?), my blood glucose levels are well within range, my kidney and liver functions are good. My ECG results are consistently Good/OK, with no evidence of narrowing arteries or impending heart disease. So that rules out those doom-laden indicators that often go hand in hand with High BP.

So, how do I want to approach and face up to my (mild, I insist) high blood pressure?
- Well, I think, starting a good regular exercise plan is a good start....sure, I can't afford a gym membership, but walking costs nothing, and the gains are positive and immeasurable.
- Stopping smoking, that's a no-brainer....but easier said than done. Have done it successfully in the past going cold turkey....don't ask why I'm currently back smoking, after staying off them for over 18 months, let's just call it extreme stupidity on my part. In my experience the nicotine replacement therapies don't work for me, what does work for me is to give myself a thorough good talking to, get my head in the right place, and then stop, stop dead....before they stop me dead.
- Lose some weight. So far, I've lost 5lbs since Christmas, and that's without trying....I just need to show myself what I can do with a little more effort. My diet on the whole really isn't bad, no, honestly! (my hubby, who's been eating the same food as me for the last 10 years, is disgustingly slim, and got gold stars and heaps of praise from the medical team at his most recent workplace physical) But I could get a bit more strict with myself on portion sizes. Cut a little more fat out of the diet (cheese and mayo would be the main culprits), and for the sake of my blood pressure declare war on salt.
- Drop the caffeine. On average I probably drink 8-10 cups of tea in a normal day. I used to also find time to quaff up to 3 cans of Diet Coke a day. Combined with my total inability to pass a good coffee machine in a petrol station or shopping centre, and its hard to believe I wasn't wired to the moon 24hrs a day. Currently, I haven't had a single can of coke in several weeks. Bought my first box of thin (de-caff) tea last week, and managed to walk past a few coffee machines without engaging auto-pilot and filling up on hot coffee. Presently I'm having 1-2 cups of fat-caff tea in the morning, and then drinking thin (de-caff) tea the rest of the day. So far so good, and when the box of fat-caff teabags is finished I won't replace it, no matter how much hubby squeals.
- Drink more water, another easy no-brainer but a good habit I just can't seem to make stick. When I'm disciplined enough to fill an empty 2 litre bottle in the morning, then I'm generally disciplined enough to drink it....but often by the time I remember my good intentions its lunch time or later, and I give myself a thousand excuses as to why I can't be bothered to go fill the bottle and I promise myself to try harder the next day...you know how the story goes.

The BP Monitor results are a wake up call, and even if it involves lengthy arguing, pleading and bartering with my doctor and my endocrinologist, I'm determined to stay off BP medication...now is the time to listen to the alarm clock, and shake myself out of dreamland....!

24hr Blood Pressure Monitor

This is hell!

I'm plugged into an automatic blood pressure machine....that goes off every 20 minutes, and records my results in a little battery powered gizmo that attaches to my belt, that the nurse can download when I go back into the surgery tomorrow morning.

Every 20 minutes it inflates and cuts off all blood supply to my arm, in a death like grip, for what feels like hours.....ouch!

No idea how I'm meant to sleep with this thing going off constantly, but I am assured that between 10pm and 6am it switches to hourly checks...so I'll be able to sleep in 60 minute bursts, whoop-de-do!

Pressure

Just received a letter from my doctor regarding making an appointment to have a 24 hour blood pressure monitor done. No idea what this involves, but we've arranged to do it on the 28th January 09

First Endo Appointment

I'm not sure we've made the best first impression with each other.

Let me explain.

I turned up at 2 o'clock, 30 minutes before my scheduled appointment time, as requested in the letter I received. I checked in and all was breezy.

I sat and read my book for an hour, and then my name was called.

The nurses weighed me, took copies of my latest blood tests, and then sent me off with a sample pot to wee in. I'd drunk so much coffee by this time that this request was easy.

I then sat back in the waiting area for another 40 mins or so, and was called again. This time they wanted to send me for an ECG...routine for new patients apparently. And so I headed off to hunt for the elusive ECG room...I hunted high and low, I followed various sets of directions from all manner of hospital staff that I came across in my travels around the maze of corridors, and after getting increasingly frustrated and irrationally angry about the whole process, I finally found it...hidden near what appeared to be some laundry rooms...of course!

ECG results back in hand, I headed back to the outpatients department, and gave them into the nurse's station.

And than I sat back down and waited....and waited....and waited.

Around 5.30pm I realised that I was the only person left in the waiting room, and that the cleaning staff were starting to converge...emptying bins and sweeping the floor. The nurses were in their room, sitting around with coffee, presumably winding down after their shift. The receptionist looked as if she was doing her final tidy-up before heading home, and she looked at me puzzled, as if she'd only just noticed I was still sitting there.
I was tired, I was grumpy, I was snappy and I was starting to get upset. Then the consultant endocrinologist himself walked into the waiting area, with his brief case, looking for all the world as if he was clocked-out and heading home. He asked me why I was still sitting there...I looked him in the eye and replied that I was waiting for my 2.30pm appointment. He looked confused, asked me my name, conferred with the receptionist, called up one of the nurses, and then, with a sigh, he turned and invited me back into his consultation room.

I must confess, I was incredibly pissed off at this point, and I went to war on him....I told him I had better things to do than sit in his waiting room for 3+ hours, and told him inconsiderate it was to keep his patients waiting so long, how we do have lives, and why bother giving out specific appointment times if they weren't going to even bother trying to stick to them.
He then started back at me, saying that occasionally appointments take longer than expected, and would I want to have a strict, timed appointment, or would I prefer to have as much time with the doctor as my particular case required, and hence why appointments can start to run late.
I explained that I understood all that, and that yes, I would be very angry if my consultant was clock-watching throughout my appointment...but seriously, going in to his consultation room at 5.45pm, when my allotted appointment time was 2.30pm was more than a little excessive!
I suggested, that instead of giving out set times, why not just work on a first come-first served basis...we spent a good 5 minutes or so shouting at each other - we were going around in circles, and he stormed out a side door, where I overheard him giving the nurses a very hard time over it all....like it was their fault, apparently...

He came back in, looking more than a little sheepish - I guess one of the nurses threw some of that flack right back at him - and suggested we start again, and try to get back on the right foot with each other.

He spent a good while going over all my recent blood tests, mumbling into his Dictaphone, and then finally addressing me with the news that I was had a classic case of Grave's Disease....a momentous occasion for us all I might add!

We talked over what that meant, what my medication should do to help, he briefly mentioned Radio-Active Iodine treatment (RAI) and also thyroid surgery, but also added in quickly that it was very possible it wouldn't come down to that, and that hopefully the medication would be sufficient to cause my thyroid to comply and go into a state of remission.
He also expressed concern over my high blood pressure, and suggested I have a 24hr blood pressure monitor done. He said he would write to my GP about this. He also wrote me a prescription for Centyl-K to help with my blood pressure - but I don't think I'll be filling it - I'm too young to be on medication for hypertension FFS!

He made an appointment for me to return in February '09. My appointment time was given as 2.15pm this time, so I joked that I should probably turn up around 5.30pm then...he had the good grace to laugh, and said "No, we won't make that mistake with you again".