Wednesday, September 12, 2007


Thyroid RIP

Today is the day that I give the medical establishment permission to dose me with radiation and kill one of my organs. Aghhhh!!!! It will all be very anticlimatic, I'm sure. All I do is swallow a pill. There will be some ceremony, however. The person giving me the pill will wear a lead suit to protect them from the radiation. I will need to sit there for a period of time afterwards, in case I throw up. Not because the pill makes you throw up, mind you! But just on the off chance that I randomly puke. Because if I do, my vomit will be radioactive waste!

For the next week, I must take care not to spit or pee on my children. Yes, my doctor actually said that (she's quite a character). I don't think that will be a problem. Now if it were the other way around, we'd definitely have a problem!

I have been sick as a dog for the last 10 days with one of the nastiest colds I've ever had. Yesterday, I finally went to my GP, thinking I must surely have a secondary bacterial infection, like strep throat. But no, it's just viral, so I've got to ride it out. My neck looks mutant, between the swollen thyroid and swollen glands from the cold, I truly look freakish. I'm actually embarassed about the way I look. Well, all that will hopefully decrease soon.

The most significant event of the doctor visit was when she asked me about the thyroid symptoms. I told her about my recent extreme anxiety and insomnia. I have no idea if these are due to the thyroid problems, or if I'd be having them anyway with the upcoming surgery. I thought I'd ride it out and see how I feel after they get my thryoid under control. The problem is that it's going to be awhile before the hormone levels level out (months). The surgery is in 7 weeks! So we discussed it and agreed that I should start taking zoloft for the anxiety, and best of all, she gave me sleeping pills (Blessed, blessed sleep!). I truly thought that I'd never need this again, after the PPD incident after Miles' birth. I certainly never had trouble before children. It appears that my body just doesn't deal with hormones, whether it be post partum hormones or thyroid. I shudder to think how I'll deal with menopause.

Another good thing about all this, is that I'm finally getting some help with the LA trip planning! It has been so overwhelmingly stressful and I have received NO help from Brian or my parents until now. So basically with all of the other stresses I have, working full time, and trying to spend as much time as possible with my kids when I am home, I have been trying to plan a 3 week trip for 6 people to LA, including 4 adults, 3 of whom were not contributing at all (bitter much, Julie?). I am so happy to say that after me freaking out (just a couple of times), Brian has pretty much taken over the reins, and he's doing a much better job than me. Unfortunately, no help from my parents, yet, though.

Okay, enough about my health and other woes. Yesterday Miles started preschool! He was just so darn cute, getting ready, going in, changes his shoes at his cubby, etc. What a big, big boy (sniff!). He had a little playdoh "incident," I hear. A little trouble with sharing, that is. Followed by screaming and a 15 minute tantrum. Oh dear. Sharing is definitely his downfall, no matter how hard we work with him on it. I think the problem is that he just hasn't been around many other kids (other than his brother). I really hope that preschool will help him with this.

I think Jack is going to really benefit from the one-on-one attention while Miles is at school. We need to find a Kindermusik or My Gym to enroll him in with Daddy a couple of times a week. Miles did Gymboree when he was Jack's age and it was really great.

I think that Jack has officially hit the "Terrible Twos." Why oh why do they give it that misleading name, when every kid I know has hit it far before age two? He is the king of the throw-down tantrum, and sometimes seems to do it every 15 minutes or so. You know the kind: throw yourself prostrate on the floor and flail your arms and legs, while screaming as loudly as you possibly can. Instigators usually include something like a car not rolling across the floor the way you want it to.


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