The challenge word issued last week that is “due” today is: GUILTY.
Too dramatic of a photo? I don’t know.
They’re not narcotics.
I’m not addicted.
I am dependent, though.
Without them, I cease to function. And that’s not melodramatic. Just ask my husband or my son. Or my friends who watched my health nosedive the past couple years. I mean, replacement thyroid hormones aren’t the worst thing that could happen in my life. But it’s still ever-present.
I’m lucky that my health is pretty good when I take my pills (at 3:45am every morning. Before coffee. Obviously. Not within taking any other medications 1 hour before or after. Not within 4 hours of taking antacid before or after.)
I’m blessed it’s not something more serious. But it is chronic and there’s not a cure and I’ll never be able to stop taking this pills.
And I lost a good chunk of the last two years finding out my thyroid shut down. I spent around 17 out of 24 hours sleeping. That was the year my Christmas tree stayed up until July 27th. I really can’t remember much of late 2007 to sometime around 2009. Some big things, yeah. But I was checked-out.
So I’m guilty I lost that much of my life. Guilty I didn’t notice it sooner. Guilty that it has taken so freaking long to get the meds at the correct dosage. Guilty that I weigh 236 pounds. Guilty that I have to take so much time out of my day to exercise and work my butt off to see little to no results.
I know it’s out of my control. I think it just takes awhile to get used to such a big change in my life. I’ve never been unhealthy then BAM! From nowhere this thyroid thing came in with a one-two combo and knocked me out.
I’m just now getting my life back. My meds, according to my doctor, are at the right level. I have exercised (per his orders) at least 30 minutes a day, EVERY day. I’ve went above and beyond and exercised an average of an hour a day EVERY day for the past 22 days.
I’m doing it and I will continue to do it and someday, hopefully, I’ll stop feeling guilty about how much of my life this consumes.
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Next week’s word is: BOLD
You have from now until next Monday to take your photo, post it and you’ll be able to link it next Monday. I can’t wait to see what you come up with!
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Also, since the word hope was so challenging for me, I thought I’d give you a head’s up on a month’s worth of words so that I you can have some more time to get just the right shot.
pop?in?jay–noun–a person given to vain, pretentious displays and empty chatter.
In other words, blogging. 😉
Isn’t that what this personal blogging is all about? Me. Me. Me. For this photo challenge, that’s perfect. We’re going to dig inside of ourselves and do some “concept photography.”
I’m going to give you a word and you’re going to take a photo of something that describes the concept of the word.
You CANNOT take pictures of your kids or your pets for this challenge. Or anyone else’s kids or pets. I know they’re precious, but they make your creative bone lazy. Let’s get outside of the box. Let’s be challenged.
Please leave the link to your post (not the link to your website or blog.) For example:
So–Let’s see your photos for GUILTY Link up and don’t forget to visit the other participants!
We’re going to give this a shot. I used to be so good at planning meals and something happened.
And since we’re moving soon, I also would like to need to empty out the abundance from my freezer and pantry. I’m going to try to GOING to spend less than $15 a week for my grocery budget in March (and possibly April.)
Monday–leftover arroz con pollo I made last week. I might try to make something “new” out of this. Wrap it in a tortilla or something.
I have a lot of eggs, so I think I’ll make some egg salad for Phil’s lunchbox. I also still have some frozen deli meat I scored on a sale a month or so ago. Zane and I will eat leftovers for lunches. They’ll be plenty, I’m sure.
I need to do this today. I had originally intended to post all the CRAP that’s happening, but what’s the point? I sent an email to one of my bloggy friends and then realized that even though there’s so much wrong, there’s also a lot that’s right.
My husband loves me and I love him. Today, that’s a big deal. When so many other couples are divorcing or are complacent and uncaring, I am grateful for Phil. What you see is what you get with us, I talk about him all the time because he’s so much a part of me. I’m not sure I would have the strength to go on without him. Y’know that song Johnny and June? Well, not just the song, but the Johnny and June love story? (“…and when you’re gone, I wanna go too, like Johnny and June…”) Yeah, that’s us minus singing careers. It was rough in the beginning, but it’s always been stronger than we’re able to explain.
My son. He’ll be nine on Saturday. Nine! Goodness how did that much time go by? He’s turning into his father (which pleases me to no end.) He’s such a good kid. Sensitive to people’s needs, caring, loving, funny–man is the kid funny. For example, yesterday he says, “When you see RIP on a tombstone, it’s Rest In Peace. If a Lego guy died, it would have to be Rest In Pieces.”
Our health, I mean, aside from bumps, sprains, bruises and such, we’re pretty healthy people. Phil’s got high blood pressure, I’ve got this (as of yet unfixed) hypothyroidism but those are totally treatable and minor in comparison to things I don’t want to talk about.
We have families who love us.
We still have our home.
Phil still has a job.
We’ve got the best friends anyone could ask for.
There’s food on the table and clothes on our backs.
We’re really not that bad off. And I need to remind myself because I’m sure I’m in the midst of a big ole rootin’ tootin’ spiritual battle. I’ve walked in this fire before, I remember what it feels like to try to continue walking with those unhealed blisters on the bottom of my feet. It’s not fun, but I understand it’s a part of walking with Christ.
Feet are important this time, I’m trying to figure it all out.
Feet walk, run, jump, play, bend, twist. Feet are the foundation of our walk.
Any other valuable foot notes? 😉 Pun totally intended.
But you already knew that didn’t you? (Yeah. So did I.)
I had my blood tested again to check my thyroid. For five months now, I’ve had blood drawn and an increase in the dosage of my meds following the doctor’s review of my labs.
Twice now he’s asked me if I’m even taking the meds.
Yes. Every morning. Same time. Empty stomach. No other meds. Wait an hour before eating. No antacids, iron, or other pills at the same time or anywhere close to the time I take the thyroid meds. Religiously. Never missed a dose, not even once. Yes, taking branded Rx, not generic.
The doctor said, “I’m confused. With the increased dosage, you’re bloodwork is getting worse.”
I laughed. How could I not? So he’s upping them again and we’ll see what happens. I’m losing hope.
I mean, I don’t need to be skinny. I’m okay being my plump self. Phil would be sorely upset if I lost the boobage.
It would be okay if my brain got a little less foggy because I do things like leave ice cream out (and Phil or Zane put it away) or I leave the water on in the garden for eleven hours and nearly run the well dry (and Phil calls to remind me all day long of things I’m supposed to remember) but I’m getting by.
It’s hard to write stories and it’s been taking me longer to get them finished, but I’m not dying. I’m doing alright.
And are naps really that bad? Three hour naps almost daily? On top of ten to twelve hours of sleep every night? (No wonder I can’t get anything done!)
I’m sick of hearing how everyone knows someone with hypothyroidism and two weeks after starting the meds, EVERY-FREAKING-ONE feels like new. All better. Case closed.
I’m not complaining, really, things could be much worse and I know that.
One of you out there has to know at least ONE person like me? Right? One who takes her meds correctly and whose bloodwork gets worse with higher doses?