A couple weeks ago I visited my doctor for my yearly check up. During the examination, I mentioned to him that I had been gaining a few extra pounds these past couple of months, as well as a few other annoying body problems that I had a hard time accounting for. He mentioned to me that it could very well be a thyroid problem, and blood was drawn. He told me that he would be in touch with me in a few days, to tell me the outcome of the test.
The next coupe of days were a little hectic for me, as I was busy with not only work, but finding out all that I could about the thyroid (mainly hypothyroidism, which is responsible for lack of energy, depression, weight gain, hair loss, dry skin, etc.). Before I knew it, I had identified nearly all of these symptoms in me. Dry skin? Have you seen my hands lately? Lack of energy? How much sleep does a person need? Weight gain? I just broke the zipper on my third pair of pants this month, hello!
I talked with my family about this possible outcome, talked to my fiancé Matt, and looked for ways to treat it, naturally or with pills. Friday came and went, and I spent nearly the whole weekend in bed, relaxing and taking naps periodically because, frankly, I had a condition.
Can you guess what happened next? Wait, let me share with you the message I got from my doctor this past Monday:
“Hello Amy, this is Dr. ****. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you Friday, I’ve been busy and I know you have too with your wedding and everything. Well, I did get the results back from your blood work, and everything looks completely normal. Not a thing wrong. If you have any other questions, just call my office, but otherwise everything is fine with you.”
Wow, can I get caught up in things or what?
I really think I need to visit Mass more often. This wedding planning, coupled with the stresses of work, is just getting me so mixed up and upset. Thankfully, I was surprised with my wedding shower a little while ago, which was a great party. They even had my favorite drink, cosmos!
You know, planning a wedding wouldn’t be so bad, so long as someone would do it for me.
Music playing while writing this: “Hang on Little Tomato” by Pink Martini