So an elderly Asian couple has purchased the condo next to Andy’s. He’s thrilled there are no brats but now he just has to hope they have no mutts. Or do things like blast their TV/music, slam doors, have tons of company, etc. LOL, he and I don’t have a very good track record for getting quiet neighbors. 

It sure has been quiet here the last two days. I love it. Wish it were always like this. Got up at the same time the last 3 days. Rare but not unheard of for me. The only problem is I’m still having that “lump” in the throat and a slight burning sensation. You know how you sometimes don’t manage to swallow something all the way and it gets stuck in your throat? That’s sort of what I’ve been feeling. I took a chill pill to see if it would alleviate it and it did. Does this mean it was anxiety? But why that one symptom if it was? The burning is more likely to be caused by my thyroid, enlarged or not, than the lump. People can live with enlarged thyroids. I’ve seen pictures of them. How it doesn’t press against the windpipe is beyond me, though. I guess it bulges outward instead of inward. 

Tom’s on his way home after being crazy busy at work, as he says, and then we can make plans. 

Later… 

It’s official. We’re definitely dropping Sutter, these incompetent doctors, and their equally incompetent staff. I hate to give up my sexy PCP, but my health is more important than her looks. 

As Tom said, it was ridiculous of my PCP to tell me I have high cholesterol but to never suggest any kind of a special diet. I had to figure things out on my own, even if some of it is common sense. She also never followed up after removing my ingrown toenail, nor did she follow up with other testing as the endo doc had pointed out. 

The only area within the psychic world I readily admit to is mood influencing and dream premonitions. There’s one thing I don’t tell people other than Tom and Nane, cuz it sounds crazier than crazy even to me. Well, when I was about 10 years old I discovered my ability to communicate through photographs. I’ve written about this in Word before. No, I don’t talk to the dead or anything like that. I don’t know who the entity is that “resides” in the pictures (usually of celebrities that I used to collect who served as the hosts). It wasn’t the celebs themselves, that’s for sure. 

In my teens, they thought I was talking to myself and hearing voices. That’s why they started me on the Navane and many have thought I heard voices, and well, I couldn’t have come out and said, “I’m not hearing voices, I’m just psychic.” Like anyone would’ve believed me, especially in the 80s? The problem is that I have to mention this to any doctor I see because certain drugs can make it worse. So that’s why I have this problem with doctors thinking I’m crazier than I am and hearing all these voices and shit. It puts one in a very rough spot when you were given a medication for the wrong reason, you KNOW damn well what was really going on, but you know no one’s going to believe you either. It’s really embarrassing and frustrating. I just can’t tell them they mistook psychic for crazy and have them be like, “Oh, ok. No problem.” 

The biggest problem with Doc Sexy is that thanks to being misdiagnosed as a teen when they were turning me into an experimental walking pharmacy in search of the perfect drug to make me “normal,” she thinks I’m crazier than I am. I know it may sound funny, but it’s not in this case. Again, one of those teenage/early 20s drugs was Navane. It’s not an anti-anxiety. It’s not an anti-depressant. It’s a fucking anti-psychotic. I didn’t understand this back then, but they seemed to think my “picture talk” meant I was hearing voices. Well, I wasn’t. I never heard voices in my life that weren’t from real people. 

I still have to tell the doctors I once took the shit, thus putting it into their minds that I’ve heard voices or hallucinated at one time. Saying I don’t give a shit what people think stops rather quickly when it’s someone that’s got my health in their hands. I think this is why Doc Sexy felt that the extreme anxiety I was experiencing was more from me than the levothyroxine. Now, I’m not denying that I can get anxious on my own just fine without any help from any medication, but never in my life had I experienced anything so horrible, intense and extreme, and well, it’s quite a coincidence that many others have complained of the same thing. Still, I think she thinks I have this mega-serious anxiety disorder, though she did admit the levothyroxine can add to it. 

Still… why should one have to take a pill for their physical problems (some of which aren’t right for them), and then see a shrink for daily psych pills so they can stand to take those pills? That’s just fucking ridiculous, as I said before. 

In a sense, though, Dr. D, the endofucker, is worse. She’s a very cold, unfriendly person that lacks compassion. Tom and I agree she’s not going to help me. She’s too all or nothing. You can’t just treat everyone the same because we’re not all the same and we don’t all respond the same to various medications. There are lots of people that can take 75mcg of levothyroxine just fine. But I can’t, and her attitude is Armour or nothing when there are still other options out there like lowering the levothyroxine dose or using natural remedies. So going back to this endobitch is no option at all. 

We still have to deal with the pill phobia thing the levothyroxine put on me, one step at a time. Little by little I’m able to take some things again. I wasn’t even able to take ibuprofen for a while at first. Or my kiddy vitamins. Yeah, Fred Flintstone never seemed so threatening before. That’s another weird thing – why did she recommend Vitamin D to me when I get that from Fred? Tom brought this up and I had been wondering this myself earlier. Still, I’ll take the damn Vitamin D next weekend when he’s home, and then the Selenium the weekend after that. 

Tom also pointed out that my PCP didn’t go to medical school in the US but in Grenada. This might mean her grades weren’t high enough to get into medical school here in the US. It could also be that the Grenada school was cheaper. Who knows for sure? I just hate to give her up. Despite not being a very good doctor, she was hot and super friendly. It isn’t every day a doctor will ask what you’re writing about (I told her I write romantic suspense with gay characters in support of equality, which she seemed pleased to hear), then share a little about their own personal experiences, and tells you you’re beautiful even when you know you’re not. I’ll send her a friend invite on Facebook later on, and kill the endoshit in my story. 

In the meantime, thanks to the fucking side effects and how fucked up Sutter is, we’re starting over from scratch. My general trust in doctors is really shot right now. I never had much faith in them to begin with, to be honest. There are just so many quacks out there. 

Tom has to contact his insurance company to make some changes, then hopefully I’ll be able to have doctors who are willing to work with my specific needs and not the needs of the majority with Hashimoto’s. At my size, I’m just not the majority. Never have been, never will be, 20-30 extra pounds or not. I also hope we won’t have to play phone all day long just to get nowhere when scheduling appointments, and hopefully when we do manage to make these appointments they’re not 3 or more months away. 

I’m doing my best with the self-help – foods low in cholesterol, keeping active, keeping calories down, etc. I don’t ever expect to lose the weight, which is ok, but it looks like I can do a good job of not gaining after all.