I did manage to get out for a run yesterday. My breathing was awful. I'd forgotten how being hypothyroid makes my laryngeal issues worse and it felt like my throat was trying to close up each time I inhaled. I had to take a LOT of walk breaks just to catch my breath. My legs felt pretty much as I'd expect them to feel after 2 days of rest: sluggish. Honestly, the first 2 miles was an exercise in persistance. In spite of being absolutely miserable for the first half of it, it did get better once I hit my turnaround and I felt better for the rest of the day. I felt better than I have for several days in fact. Sometimes I need that dramatic reminder of how much my mental and emotional states benefit from a run. For the rest of the day and evening, my mind was in a better place, my body felt better, and I was definitely in a better mood. Obviously I need to heed my own advice: just get out there and run, you'll feel better once you're done.
In hindsight, I think that most of my "hypothyroid signs" are more likely due to running withdrawal than to my hormonal state. This is a big part of why I run actually. No matter how stressful a day I've had, how tired I am, or how much I just want to crash on the couch, I've only had a couple of runs that when I was done I regretted doing them. The overwhelming majority of the time, I finish with a smile and a better outlook on my day. Maybe this is why I try to encourage new runners to stick with it. Once you get to the point where you recognize the mental and emotional boost, you keep coming back to get your fix. I never would have believed it myself when I started running. Me? Hooked on running? Ha! For about a year, I'd dread each workout. I'd drag myself off of the couch to go to meet up with the running group at IRC just to avoid the questions of "where were you last night?" One day, a rest day, I realized that I didn't WANT to rest. I wanted to run. That was a turning point for me and most of the time, that feeling is there. Yesterday reminded me why.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Plugging Along
Today's entry is going to stray from my usual babble about my running agenda. My blog is my journal, my diary, and today it's my therapy.
Today is my eighth day off of Synthroid and I'm plugging along just trying to go through the motions of my routine. As long as I keep busy, I feel mostly ok: some dizziness now and again, I'm tired, lethargic, and lacking motivation. I slept almost as much as I was awake over the weekend, but the family is taking good care of me by taking care of themselves. I do find that once I sit down, the fatigue closes in on me and it's hard to overcome the inertia to get moving again. I haven't run since Saturday's race (the Bloomingfoods 5k Breakaway), in spite of my good intentions. Going to try again today, wish me luck.
So why am I off of my Synthroid? In February of 2002, when the twins were only 7 weeks old, I had my thyroid and its goose-egg sized evil alien friend removed. A few months later, I had radioactive iodine to kill any cells that might have survived the surgery. The iodine was delivered to me in a heavy lead cup by a friendly young man stunningly dressed in a lead apron and wearing lead gloves. I was told to swallow my radioactive cocktail in one gulp, given a tissue to wipe my lips, and instructed to discard the tissue into a radioactive waste bin. That was it. I was told not to sneeze or cough on anyone and I was good to go. By "go" I mean "go straight home and isolate myself from every other living being in my household for a week". Easy peasy. All in all, a pretty simple and straight-forward treatment for cancer: no nasty chemotherapy, no radiation burns, no weakened immune function. Today, the only reminders I have of the cancer are the faded scar on my throat, the raspy voice and funky breathing I have courtesy of laryngeal paralysis, and my absolute dependence on taking thyroid supplements for the rest of my life.
Eleven months out of the year, those are the only reminders that is. In order to test for any recurrance of the cancer, about once a year they have me go completely off of my meds so they can check my blood for any thyroid protein. If any thyroid protein (thyroglobulin) is found, it suggests that I'm relapsing. This is a stressful process for two reasons: just being reminded that cancer could be lurking is worrisome but the added benefit of being severely hypothyroid during this testing impairs my coping abilities. For me, it tends to affect me with fatigue, apathy, irritability, weepiness, and a bad case of the blues. I try to run through the hypo phase, sometimes that's easier than others. This time around seems to be a bit tougher than usual for no reason that I can tell. At 10 years post-diagnosis/treatment, the chances of me having a recurrance are <5%. Pretty good odds, right? Every year when it's time for tests though, I'm not interested in what the odds predict. All that I want to know is what do my tests say?
Tomorrow is my first blood test after going off of the meds. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it's been long enough for them to do the rest of the tests. If not, I stay off of the meds and we test again in a week. In the meantime, I'll keep moving in slow motion, sleeping every chance I get, and trying to keep my head above water.
Time to go run.
Today is my eighth day off of Synthroid and I'm plugging along just trying to go through the motions of my routine. As long as I keep busy, I feel mostly ok: some dizziness now and again, I'm tired, lethargic, and lacking motivation. I slept almost as much as I was awake over the weekend, but the family is taking good care of me by taking care of themselves. I do find that once I sit down, the fatigue closes in on me and it's hard to overcome the inertia to get moving again. I haven't run since Saturday's race (the Bloomingfoods 5k Breakaway), in spite of my good intentions. Going to try again today, wish me luck.
So why am I off of my Synthroid? In February of 2002, when the twins were only 7 weeks old, I had my thyroid and its goose-egg sized evil alien friend removed. A few months later, I had radioactive iodine to kill any cells that might have survived the surgery. The iodine was delivered to me in a heavy lead cup by a friendly young man stunningly dressed in a lead apron and wearing lead gloves. I was told to swallow my radioactive cocktail in one gulp, given a tissue to wipe my lips, and instructed to discard the tissue into a radioactive waste bin. That was it. I was told not to sneeze or cough on anyone and I was good to go. By "go" I mean "go straight home and isolate myself from every other living being in my household for a week". Easy peasy. All in all, a pretty simple and straight-forward treatment for cancer: no nasty chemotherapy, no radiation burns, no weakened immune function. Today, the only reminders I have of the cancer are the faded scar on my throat, the raspy voice and funky breathing I have courtesy of laryngeal paralysis, and my absolute dependence on taking thyroid supplements for the rest of my life.
Eleven months out of the year, those are the only reminders that is. In order to test for any recurrance of the cancer, about once a year they have me go completely off of my meds so they can check my blood for any thyroid protein. If any thyroid protein (thyroglobulin) is found, it suggests that I'm relapsing. This is a stressful process for two reasons: just being reminded that cancer could be lurking is worrisome but the added benefit of being severely hypothyroid during this testing impairs my coping abilities. For me, it tends to affect me with fatigue, apathy, irritability, weepiness, and a bad case of the blues. I try to run through the hypo phase, sometimes that's easier than others. This time around seems to be a bit tougher than usual for no reason that I can tell. At 10 years post-diagnosis/treatment, the chances of me having a recurrance are <5%. Pretty good odds, right? Every year when it's time for tests though, I'm not interested in what the odds predict. All that I want to know is what do my tests say?
Tomorrow is my first blood test after going off of the meds. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it's been long enough for them to do the rest of the tests. If not, I stay off of the meds and we test again in a week. In the meantime, I'll keep moving in slow motion, sleeping every chance I get, and trying to keep my head above water.
Time to go run.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I Love/Hate my Body
Or maybe it's the other way around? Today is one of those days where I'm disgusted with the way my body works. Doc left me a message yesterday with some unexpected test results which will result in me needing more tests. In case that's not enough, the timing of these tests will leave me all off-kilter when I start my new job in 2 weeks. Just what I wanted: Hi, I'm your new employee and I need to take a week off because my body refuses to play nice. Oh, lucky me. My heel is still nagging at me in spite of 2 days of rest. The weather is great, my mental state could really use a run, but the fear of making the mystery heel injury worse has me taking another unplanned rest day. Nothing like a day where I both desperately need a run to clear my head and my body needs a rest day to heal itself. Some days, it just sucks no matter how you look at it.
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