Thursday, May 31, 2012


Today was horrible.  I've been bitten numerous times, smacked, and head butted.  My youngest was bugged to death by his older brother to the point of exhaustion.  I was pooped on.  And then my doctor's office called....It's not been fun.

My labs came back in abnormal.  Problems with my thyroid and liver.   The nurse's message said to avoid anything that's toxic to the liver including ibuprofen and alcohol.  On a day like this I really needed those two things, but instead I sucked it up and ate through a bag of cheese puffs and drank a Mountain Dew.  I'll survive.  They want to run the tests again so I have to set up another appointment.

But before hysterical family members call me (don't you dare do it.  I will not answer the phone especially if there's blubbering involved), I'm sure it's not serious.  When I had hives they drew blood and before that I had a panel during pregnancy.  Whatever it is, it's probably something that just needs medication.

It may explain why I feel nauseated frequently these days, but it could also be stress.  And no before you go there.  There is no baby.  The nurse asked me that question already.  Two months of straight ichiness and I assure you I would know that it involved a baby and it doesn't.

My hysterical family members are probably worried about my liver more than my thyroid.  You see my liver almost killed me when I was three.  That's 30ish years ago.  They put me on medication until I was 7.  Your liver is the only organ in the body that can repair itself.  And you can donate a portion of your liver (living donor) and it will still function.  My liver repaired itself.  It's been fine until now.  I would know because with any digestive bug I get, hysterical doctors make sure to check my liver.  For 30ish year now.  You'd think that that would be ancient history.  It's so ancient that I don't even bother checking the box anymore.  But it makes people nervous.

When I was three, my liver enzymes shot up in number.  Because there were too many, my liver shut down.  When it righted itself, it would start working again.  That's the painful part.  It's not like having a baby, but it's still painful.  This happened in a predictable pattern: every couple of weeks.  They couldn't figure out what was causing it.  I was tested for hepatitis and all sorts of liver ailments.  I don't have hepatitis (at least I don't think so).  Not being able to give a definitive prognosis, my specialist warned my parents that they needed to prepare themselves for my funeral.  You can't really function without a working liver.  Rather than trying to diagnose me they put me in the hospital and started a regiment of drugs until they found one that worked (the very last one too).  And I was on that for four years.  My condition was so odd and never seen before that they don't even have a name for it.  There's only one other person in the world whose symptoms were like mine.

So naturally, people freak out when it comes to my liver.  But there's no point in worrying about it now.  I'll just make another appointment and stop starring at the beer in my fridge every time my toddler decides I look tasty. 

I am glad about one thing.  This at least explains why every other day I feel awful in the afternoons.

1 comment:

I love to read your thoughts. Thanks for sharing!