All those long days spent trying to avoid food because if I look at it I'll gain weight, and trying to work out why my entire skin sheds all over the floor, or why I either need to sleep for twelve hours or can't sleep at all, I may finally be on the way to a diagnosis.
It will be so nice to know that when sitting bolt upright in the middle of the night completely exhausted but also completely unable to sleep and with a horrible checklist taking place in the back of my head ticking off every awful thing I've ever done and every mistake I've ever made it wasn't really because I'm useless and deserve to die but because a little gland at the base of my throat can't be bothered to do the one job that it's been given to do.
At the moment I have bruises all down my right arm from where my doctor took a few vials of blood, and nothing will be confirmed until I undergo another round of bruising in four weeks time, but after that I might finally have the
excuse diagnosis that I've been craving.
No more is it going to be down to my lack of willpower that I gain weight through overeating. No - it's my thyroid. No more is it going to be down to my lack of willpower that I don't go for that hour and a half of exercise that I promised myself I would. No - it's my thyroid. No more is it going to be down to my horrible life choices that I sit bolt upright in contemplative horror in the long dark teatime of the soul. No - it's my thyroid.
I'm keeping that text message from my doctor. I may even have it framed. Nice to have a genuine full-on diagnosis at the ready when life's pitfalls loom.
I had a T-shirt made up a few weeks ago with my logo and my website on it. I'm now considering whether I should have another one made (one size larger) that reads - it's not me it's my under-active thyroid. Then I could whip it out when the occasion calls.