Just Call Me Slim

I’ve heard the odds are slim, chances are slim, slim pickings, and yo slim so many times. However, don’t ever minimize the health odds or chances when slim comes into play. A month ago I found out my uterine fibroid tumors have returned. While they are benign, they will not be tested until I have them removed. The procedure I decide to have this second time around is yet to be determined. I will visit with a new doctor who will be joining my dream team, tomorrow. All I know is that I don’t want to be in this same spot, another six years down the road.

Six years ago I had a procedure called a myomectomy. A myomectomy is a surgical procedure that consists of the removal of uterine fibroid tumors, which are noncancerous growths that in my case were large and plentiful. My uterus had grown to be the size of a five month pregnant woman. It was ridiculous! I had 12 tumors removed, and now I find my uterus growing yet again, with several tumors. It’s just a headache. I mean, nobody has time for foreign bodies invading their private places. Seriously, I gotta figure out next steps and keep things movin’. The myomectomy is an amazing procedure since it leaves your uterus intact, so that you can still bear children. It’s got its complications, but if you are in good hands, you’ll be good to go. However, the chances or odds of reoccurring tumors could be slim or definitive. For me – it’s the return of “fake baby bump” or “sexy kangaroo pouch.”

I’ll elaborate more on the risks, experiences, etcetera in due time. In the meantime, I’m contemplating the best next steps for me, because I want the odds of these tumors returning to be SLIM to none!

Thyrant....YES!

Hell in a Pair of Ballet Flats...

Last week was crappy. It was a horrible thyroid health week for me. I'm feeling lean, thanks to fruits and veggies...but utterly disgusted with myself and my memory. I thought this week would be better, but there's this issue with my memory...I've lost it, and it has cost me 200$ in fines from Illinois tolls and two weddings on Saturday. I remember when notes as reminders worked well for me, but if you aren't a permanent fixture in my life, or a note on a bathroom mirror of my home, I will forget you too.

I can't align my thyroid stars to save my life. Last week, I seriously had one emotional outburst, anxiety attack, and short-tempered flair up after another. It was like the smallest things kept compiling, on top of me trying to smile thru it all, attend each shower, party, and meeting on my calendar. I was fatigued, I had an accident with a razor, and that's when I had to get a grip and a bandage, which unfortunately I had an allergic reaction to and now my ankle is calming down and the welts have disappeared.

I took a nap. I rested, and I thought about my hypothyroidism. I really try so hard to forget about it at times, but I can't, for obvious reasons. But, I do bear in mind that I have to sometime make those folks in my life aware of it. I may look like a million bucks some days, at the party or in the office, but when I speak, and my words are jumbled, or when I have forgotten your names, or if I'm all dolled up and in bed - I've not skipped your party, I still care, I'm just spent, and sick and tired of being sick and tired. I have fatigue and need a time out. My thyroid love get it, they get me. Thank you. Now where did I park my car...