14 months of treatment that hasn't touched the sides.
Being palmed off, storming out of the Doctors room, enraged, the Endocrinologists deceivingly comfy couch, ice sips of water and blood hungry disappointments. Hand always held.
Hashimotos, a broken thyroid. A struggle. An effort. T4 treatment that DIDN'T WORK.
I've ripped up letters of pain management, counselling sessions and begged for the treatment I researched I NEEDED with a zest for life, I hadn't the energy for.
I angered 'specialists' with the internet print-outs they dread. Kicked up a fuss. Questioned my lack of care and my lack of LIFE.
WE were strong. We didn't accept. I was too important. And Bella was more important. The cost to the NHS was never a patch on her. On me.
My Mums worry killed.
Private tests, money we couldn't afford. Rolling eyes, both from the Doctors arrogance and my vile fatigue.
My pillow of pity. My five minutes of 'theres no more we can do for you' was up.
But today we triumph.
We had to order medication we were convinced would work over the internet, imported. I, a young mother, with medical support for doing so refused, I had to swallow. Risk it. My life that is! Because my British Citizenship was not worth the annual £1800 to give me my life back. Until today.
I've been well for a couple of months now, due to the life-line of said imported T3, but today, I was offered it, on prescription by the NHS. Regular appointments and care. In the best interest of the thyroid patient. Of me. Of my voice.
By my Endo, with an open mind, who travels to thyroid conferences. Who is modern day enough to acknowledge that one size doesn't always 'fit all' and that human beings, mothers, the failed, deserve to be well.
Thank you. I am acknowledged. T3 as a thyroid hormone treatment has been acknowledged.
Please don't give up. Don't accept. Thank those who hold your hand and be your own advocate. Doctors aren't GOD. And like medicines, when it comes to consultants, one size doesn't always 'fit all'
So, pester. Make appointments like your life depends on it. Give your blood, enthisiastically!
Get 'your day' 'Your acknowledgement' 'Your worth..'
I wasn't always able to carry Bella upstairs. Now I can. And that's all I wanted.
Buy the book, read, learn the terminology, shout, stomp, let them know you need a longer appointment. Thank your loved ones for the days of work, the 'just tight enough' hugs and staying up through the night with the little one when your body needs to rest..
Now, i'm off to abseil, holiday, clean, dance, run upstairs, be awake! Because I can..
And I am acknowledged.
My lovely partner ordered me 'Recovering with t3' when I was at my lowest eb. It's been my 'go to' ever since. It's been my catalyst and my safety net when all medical doors were closed on me.
Sharing your story, your sense of direction is something to be applauded. It's been a pleasure to share mine and give hope. I know myself how I took strength in 'success stories'.