Splort

Today's xkcd was exactly what I needed to see this morning.

So was Deb Rowden's latest post on her quilting blog, Sunbonnet Sue: Death Becomes Her.

But then this post on ontd_political brought me back to reality because it re-emphasized the points I was making to mckitterick last night about the frustrations of dealing with My Super Speshul Health Problems.

Fact: The majority of people with Hashimoto's Disease are women. Fact: Most women who have the disease are between 45 and 65 years old--or at least that is when they are diagnosed. So this disease is doubly invisible. I've already got one strike against me because I'm female (and thus, aberrant to the medical community). Then I get a second strike because I am Of A Certain Age (and thus, unimportant by modern social standards). It's discouraging. In my younger days, I would have said it's maddening, but frankly I don't have the energy for maddening anymore.

I did muster the energy to complete three tasks yesterday, and I feel some sort of satisfaction from that. I made another appointment to see my PCP about his proposed means of dealing with the H. Pylori business and review the rest of my labs. I called the Lawrence endocrinologist's office (but was told that she subscribes to the standard Hypothyroid treatment for Hashimoto's patients, so eff that). And I wrote a letter telling Dr. Pickel I would not be pursuing treatment from his office. There were a number of factors influencing that last one, but the most important thing was I felt he isn't sensitive to the needs of out-of-town patients with limited budgets and travel means. My closing statement: "However, the repeated instances (of disregard for my time and finance limitations) undermined the level of confidence I have in being treated at your office right now without adding to my existing stress and concern about the time and money investment. I believe that you have the capability to solve many health issues, but at this time, I don’t feel I can fully commit myself to your care."

*brisk brushing of hands*

So that's that.

Lately, I've had the interesting (and uncomfortable) sensation of not being completely present in my self. It's like the Real Me is slightly outside of myself, and forcing what's left on the inside to go through the motions of daily life: reporting to work, cooking, cleaning, social interactions. Sometimes Real Me checks out for a little while (exhausted from driving, no doubt) and I find myself just sitting blankly on the couch. This happened last night after I got home from work. I was supposed to run to Walgreen's to get some Real Actual Sudafed for mckitterick, but I thought I'd wait for traffic to die down before heading out. I plopped down on the couch and the next thing I knew it was six o'clock. I didn't fall asleep, I just...checked out. Very creepy. I'm definitely at my best in social situations because I've got that extrovert drive and I enjoy talking with people and getting energy from those interactions. But once I'm alone (or alone with poor mckitterick, bless his heart), I have a hard time staying engaged.

Thank goodness I have access to email and LJ during the workday. That aspect of socializing helps immensely with staying alert and (ironically) on-task. LJ has been up and down this morning, though. I hope it doesn't completely crap out today.