While I usually try to the find the humor in everything (whether appropriate or not), this is one of those times that humor escapes me as I watch a robbery take place.
Yes, I’m being robbed as we speak. Robbed of life. Friends. My children. Fun. My hair. The list goes on and I’m angry. As much as I’ve kept a positive attitude (ok, Maureen and my husband can tell you otherwise!) and a determination to get out of this autoimmune sewer I’ve been trapped in, right now I feel defeated. There are no answers. This all seems so unfair. I’m told “we need to wait and see where your numbers go.” Wait? I’m supposed to wait around, benched, while the world goes on?
What’s so hard is that I can’t imagine that this is how I’m expected to “live”. The Hashimoto roller coaster. Did I ever mention I’m not much in to theme parks and rides? The downs come without warning, almost from one day to the next. And the slugfest can last days or even weeks. There’s no predicting how long before things settle and unless you’ve had a lot of luck in Vegas, you don’t dare bet on it. It’s hard to make plans.
I’m sad and angry that my heart wants to be out in the yard playing soccer with my kids or biking through the neighborhood yet all I can do is sit, exhausted from a day of not much activity, encased in brain fog. I’m angry that I can’t lace up my Saucony’s and hit the trails while watching the sun come up and hearing the birds chirping along the miles. I miss my friends. I miss being outside on sunny days smiling from ear to ear “just because”. My hands ache and my son asked why I was having problems tying his shoes. My hair is disappearing every day. I can’t get in to any of my clothes. I look like I gave up long before I really did.
Luckily I have my vivacious four-year old daughter who can’t possibly understand what’s happening to mommy and insists that I play “Duck Duck Goose” with her. The games and chase are short. But playing with her is a more powerful tonic today than my prescribed medications and supplements.
I am headed down yet another trail for another unproven “cure” to Hashimoto’s, straight from New Delhi, India. We’ll see how this new venture goes. I’ve tried many – acupuncture, a refined antibiotic protocol, gluten-free, a round of Iron infusions and of course conventional treatments that put a band-aid on the broken body but never addresses the root of the disease.
I’ll keep trekking and researching. I’ll continue to search for the answers that I am told don’t exist. I’ll keep playing “Duck Duck Goose”. And every time I want to scream, “This is so unfair”, I’ll remember the words of my then five-year old precious and very wise boy, “You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.”