I cried today. A lot. My world crashed and fell apart in large pieces on me. I went to the endocrinologist (Dr. Endo). I had my hopes up. High. Prolly too high. I KNEW that finally FINALLY this doctor was going help me. I put too much hope in it. I knew that but I didn’t care. And…of course, it happened. The doctor said my TSH and all my other thyroid hormone levels were smack dab in the middle of normal. Never mind ALL the symptoms I experienced. The Man came with and I’m glad for that because there were things that I forgot and thoughts he could express that I couldn’t. But the answer was still the same. Nope. You don’t have Hypothyroid. Dr. Endo cited all the information that information that confirms his belief. I’ve read three books on the subject so I know what he is talking about. I also know that some doctors somewhere diagnose according to symptoms, not test results.

But Dr. Endo isn’t one of them. He likes the numbers. He says prescribing meds where it isn’t warranted is dangerous (I see the validity in that, as a general rule). To be sure, I could find a doctor to give me what I wanted but that might be dangerous. So he scheduled me for more bloodwork. Oy. Plus he added a couple of more things to look for like cortisol and some female hormones, cuz maybe I have premature ovarian failure. Yeah right (scoffing). He did admit that I am ripe for a thyroid condition given that I have a family history of other autoimmune disorders like thyroid and type I diabetes. There is that word again: autoimmune disorder. It keeps popping up.

So I know Dr. Endo wanted me to smile and say thank you kindly and get the hell out of there. But I couldn’t. I asked what do I do if the results come back normal? I explained that I’ve been having symptoms and been to like 6 doctors and can’t sustain full time work. I’m depressed cuz I’m sick, not the other way around. He couldn’t really offer me any support except that maybe the premature ovarian failure might be the answer and to email him while I’m on vacation for the results of my bloodwork. Goody.

Stunned. We left. I broke down and cried once we were outside. The Man is looking at me like WTF? I’m thinking: How can I get another misdiagnosis and another “sorry we can’t help you”? To be sure, I didn’t want to go to lunch with The Man after that. I cried all the way home and then cried some more when I explained it to the kids. They were very supportive.

Premature Ovarian Failure? Whatever. I guess I’m done. I give up. Am I destined to be stupid and confused? Without my brain, I am nothing. NOTHING. I don’t have personality or good looks or athletic ability to go on. My brain is all. I. have. How am I supposed to work?

Did I mention that he thought I might have Addison’s disease? That is, until he asked me my ethnicity.

What diagnosis am I gonna get next?

I need answers.

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