I am a really really old brain damaged woman!

So maybe Sis is right.  I lost my debit card.

The amazing thing to me is that I got gas using my debit card, and when I reached my destination 15 minutes later, the card was gone.  Vanished into thin air.  Poof!

I was en route to the mall do some bathing suit shopping for our impending February vacation trip.  Now that in and of itself is a traumatizing event, so I don't need to tell you that my levels of despair and anxiety were already running quite high by the time I pulled into the Hess gas station on fumes.  I was not looking forward to this expedition for reasons mentioned in previous posts.  But I was determined, cellulite or no, to find something that worked.

I pulled into a spot at the mall and started to get my stuff together when I realized the card was not in my pocket where I thought I had put it, nor was it on the center console of my car.  &^%$#.  I spent the next hour or so tearing my car apart.  In that process I banged my head on the door frame twice, jammed my finger in the sliding thingy on the center console and pinched the palm of my hand with my tiny little Swiss army knife, causing a small cut that hurt like hell. And I still didn't find the card.  *&^%$.  I have had a debit card of some sort since I went to college.  I have never, ever lost my debit card.  Ever.  In 20 years of debit card ownership, I have always know where that little sucker was at all times.

I had to call and cancel it.  Problem is we are leaving tonight for a lovely, much needed vacation to warmer climes, and my new bank card will arrive while we are away.  I will have to rely on Mr. Wonderful's debit card to get me through the week.  I don't like not being independent.

So apparently my brain cells are a little miswired, and I'm more confused than I thought.  To lose my bank card?  Ugh.

I plan on vegetating, seriously vegetating for the next 10 days.  In my new bathing suit with limited cash.

Really really old brain damaged woman.

Lurching into Year #2 got interesting today since I had my follow-up visit with Dr. N. 

Menopause with a vengance.  Yup, my ovaries are shot.  I'm in menopause.  So much for one more shot at having children. 
My estrogen level was a whopping 12, and my FSH, that stupid number that determines fertility treatments, was 43.  When we did fertility stuff, everybody I met cringed when my FSH was at a lowly 15.  Ha.  Dr. N said she was surprised at how fast my body moved into this state.  She also said she has about 20 women in their early 40s all going through the same thing.  Makes me wonder what we are doing to ourselves....

So, I now officially feel bad for my ovaries.  I am really pissed off at years and years of horrendous periods that were for nothing.  If I only knew then what I knew now, I really could have enjoyed myself in high school when I was really fertile and slept around, and probably have gotten pregnant.  I'm chuckling to myself as I type that.  I suppose my ovaries are taking a well-deserved break after years of fighting off attacks from endometriomas and antibodies.  Sweet dreams to you both, and thanks for all your efforts...

Since my estrogen is in the cellar, I do need to take hormone replacement to make up for it so I can function again like a normal human being.  I don't like the idea of doing this, but I have age on my side when it comes to horrible risk factors.  Dr. N said she'd start me off on an extremely low dose and see what it does.  If it works, then she figures I'd need to stay on it til I'm about 47.  I can look forward to diminishing  hot flashes and more sleep.  It's the lack of sleep that's killing me--I know my processing is off some days, and my memory is atrocious.  My really well-organized classroom is a disaster this year, and we won't even mention the state of my house. My mother would be yelling about how she didn't raise me this way.  I could yell back that I got 50% of her lousy genes, so there. 

Funniest moment of the day:  Sis came to the appointment with me and gave her opinion of my cognitive functioning, which was not positive.

Later in the car, she said,

"It's like you're a really, really old brain damaged woman."     Hmm.  What does one do with that?? 

I told her to fuck off. 

And we laughed ourselves to the point of tears. 

Mr. Wonderful agreed.  I told him to fuck off as well. 

I know I'm off.  How do you think it is, being inside this head?  It's a scary place, full of dark corners and holes that suck up info I used to be able to retain.  I'm lucky I can remember what I ate for breakfast lately. 

I looked up the website for the newest drug in my regimen, Prempro.  I wanted to yell at the monitor since the face smiling back at me had gray hair and had to be at least 15 years older than I am right now.  On a positive note, by the time my normal friends are going through this, I'll be done with it. 
And hopefully looking  and feeling fabulous. 

This is actually very accurate. 

As for the rest of the bloodwork results, no issues with insulin and blood sugar--very big yay!  Cholesterol wasn't good at 228, but she said that could be worse due to the insomnia.  Weight gain was a couple of pounds, and all my other vitamin levels were good. 
I didn't get to hear the word "undetectable" though--she didn't order it for this round.  She'll check the thyroglobulin in March, and then redo all the hormones in May.  As for thyca, she's pretty confident that I won't have any problems in the future and that it won't come back since I've been undetectable all along.  We might do a whole body scan in June to make sure.  She said she's more worried about my hormonal nightmare and wants to get that stabilized.  I'm such a mess. 
I took my estrogen pill.  I'm going to bed.  I'm hoping things calm down soon--I could use some relief and restoration of my mental capacities before I cry myself into blubbering mess after another mood swing.

And before I forget--today would have been my grandmother Reki's birthday!  Even though I was only 14 when she died, she was an amazing presence in my life and I still miss her terribly now.  I often wonder what she would think about things and wish I could talk to her. 

Oh crap, that's going to start an emotional avalanche and I'll start crying!  *&^^%$# hormones. 

POINT OF CLARIFICATION:  Sis says that she said I was like a "really old, old, old brain damaged woman."  I of course remembered it differently.  The point is the same either way, no?  

Happy Cancerversary!

So even though it's an anniversary of sorts, I don't feel like celebrating.
Well, maybe a little since I'm not dead.

Feeling kind of, well, blah. That's me--what was I thinking about here to look so serious??  I'm only 2!

Yesterday was one year to the day that I got that phone call from Dr. N telling me I had thyroid cancer.  It's one of those moments indelibly etched in my brain and I can replay it in my head word for word.  In some ways it's so hard to believe that a year has passed, and other ways it seems like the giant cloud of doom that appeared that night is still hovering overhead. It's moved a little futher away over the horizon, but it's there nonetheless. 

Sis and I, standing on the ginormous snow mound, February 1978.  I'm the taller one. Or I was then.

It also doesn't help that February 6 is also the anniversary of the infamous Blizzard of '78.  If you grew up here and lived through it, you'd get the reference.  Not exactly a good day now, was it? If I put a positive spin on it, as a 4th grader, I loved loved loved playing on the ginormous snow mound near my house and was loving being out of school for weeks. 

I'd like to say that I have become one of those people who has taken on a whole new look at life, carpe diem and all the motivational stuff people tell you you should feel after a horrible, life-changing event.

Yeah, well I'm feeling too crappy to carpe anything.

While my sleeping situation has improved a little, last night I woke up 6 times.  It's weird--I become completely awake, and within seconds or minutes, a hot flash takes over everything.  And let me tell you--jalapeño hot, not just black pepper hot.  Ridiculous.  The difference lately is that I can fall back to sleep until the next one once I've cooled off, dried off all the sweat and reclaimed the down comforter I threw off in utter frustration. Remember--this isn't supposed to be happening to me at 42!

I feel like such a whiner when I say I'm tired, or that I feel like I'm on the verge of tears due to another bout of hormonal instability.  Sis says she can see "cognitive differences" in me.  I'm too afraid to ask exactly what she means, but I think it has to do with my semi-functioning memory and slower processing speed?  

I'm off to Dr. N on Friday, praying to hear the word "undetectable" again.  However, I'm really anxious about how all the other numbers will come out since she tested everything, and I mean everything--all my hormones and then some. 

I'm staring to feel like a hypochondriac.  I must be doing a great job at covering it up though--Mr. Wonderful said he didn't realize just how awful I have been feeling until we had a "discussion" and cleared the air on a few issues.  Either I'm not clear enough, or he's not hearing everything. I swear he's going deaf after years of fire engine sirens blaring around his head, so maybe he wasn't exactly catching everything.  The reassuring bear hug with "We'll get through this too" was just what the doctor ordered.  He regained his title with that one. 

Anyway, happy cancerversary to me.  I know it could be sooooo much worse, and I'm not being ungrateful.  It's getting harder to remember what it was like to feel "normal".  And that just sucks no matter how you try to reframe it. 

Now let's see what Friday brings as we lurch into year #2!  Time to take some melatonin and try to catch a few hours of sleep...

Snow Day #5

We are going to be in school forever.