So yesterday turned out to be something of an emotional disaster.

After three months of test I went back to the endocrinologist. She started off by telling me that the ultrasound of my thyroid was abnormal and that she wants me to have it biopsied. She thinks that it’s most likely nothing but before deciding on that she wants to “see the cells” to determine for certain that it doesn’t need to be removed.

Ok, so obviously something is wrong with my thyroid.

Right?

Then she went on to tell me that there is nothing out of the range of normal on any of the blood work regarding my thyroid functioning and no diagnosis is warranted.

Hmm, what?

She then went on to focus ONLY on my weight. Not the depression or excessive fatigue which is actually why I went into see her in the first place. She gave me an elimination diet that is, frankly, absurd and impractical. I know what works and doesn’t work for my body in terms of food plans. I’ve been at this for more than 30 years now. It’s not a question of knowing of not, it’s a question of how to get it done.

Then she talked to me about exercise and told me that despite the injury to my hip that makes exercising more difficult that I “have to do it anyway regardless”.

Can we say, “not helpful”?

I couldn’t help myself, I started to cry. I told her that it is all very well and good to give me advice to change my diet and exercise but that I’ve been on this hamster wheel of weight gain, depression, and fatigue for more than 30 years and telling me things I’ve known since I was a kid isn’t going to help me.

Do I know that I’ve been making bad food choices recently? Yes.

But I also know that this is NOT about only the weight. Plus, I also I know there has got to be something not normal about my body.

It shouldn’t take 3 different anti-depressants to make me able to get out of bed in the morning and function.

I shouldn’t wake up after 7 hours of sleep and feel as though I am not rested at all.

It shouldn’t require that I eat fewer than 1,100 calories a day everyday for the rest of my life in order to be at a normal weight.

This is not normal. All I wanted was to hear that something could be done to help. Not to fix everything. I’m not looking to have some magic wand waved and all my problems disappear. I’m willing to work to help myself. God knows I’ve worked harder at this than anything in my life. But I wanted to find something that would help, give me a little leg up, something that would make my efforts seem worthwhile and sustainable.

After getting zero real support from the doctor or her staff I left and sat in my car and cried and called my husband.

Then I went home and on my way stopped at the grocery store. This is where things could have gone in a bunch of different directions. All sorts of crazy could have happened.

But what did happen?

In addition to the mushrooms, gluten free crackers, and Parmesan cheese I had to pick up for dinner that night I bought two packages of no sugar added Klondike bars. That’s 12 Klondike bars. What happened next?

I ate one.

And then I took a walk. I walked for 49 minutes, covered 2.85 miles, walked 5,859 steps, and burned 203 calories.

Then, I got my kids from the bus and spent the rest of the day dealing with them.

In some ways that felt like a success in so far as:

A. I ate only one Klondike bar and that could have been a lot worse

B. I didn’t go to bed and pull the covers over my head

Today, I’m getting ready to go to the mall to take a walk. It’s so darn cold here that even though the sun is shining I just know that if I have to walk in those temperatures I won’t do it.

Baby steps.

 

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