Why was I not born a turtle? Or maybe Ozzy.

I mean, both just sort of go along their merry way.  My way is not exactly merry.  I mean, it's not the road to Baghdad, but it's not merry.

Last night the whole thyroid issue decided to get out of control.  After contemplating driving to the hospital, I put this huge ice pack under me and apparently it both cooled me down and my heart regulated enough to pass out from exhaustion.  Three solid hours of a labored, racing heart is enough to drain anyone.  But a few hours later my Gram woke me - I had to take her to the hospital, she said she thought she was dying.  She's at home now but it turns out that her cervical degenerative disc disease has progressed to the point that she may need to start on more effective pain meds when it acts up.  Her pain was so great that she was dizzy to the point where she couldn't get out of bed.  I think, in addition to her pain, she had the fear that she may have been a stroke, like her brother that we just visited.  A very understandable fear. 

During her CT scan, they happened to find a nodule on her thyroid.  Ha... go fuckin' figure.  As for me, I have one set of tests coming up Friday and the next set coming up Monday.  I hope, which really isn't even a good enough word, considering what I've been going through, but I really hope they can narrow down the type of thryoid issue so I can get this under control.  A hormone... a simple hormone is taking over my heart.  My heart itself is structurally sound, but this lovely little hormone is staging a coup!  Seriously, that's just fucking wrong.  And there is not one single thing I can do about it until all results are back.

It is not lost on me, however, that had I chosen to go to the hospital last night, I would not have been here when my gram woke up and needed help.  So at least I was here for her.  Besides, there's nothing more they could have done for me other than give me something to slow my heart rate and then watch so it didn't slow too much considering this comes and goes when it wants.  Today I still have residual chest pain and palpitations along with some swallowing difficulty.  I'm ready to nuke this little fucker.  I don't want meds to try to control it and keep it from being over active.  That's like building a dam (of risky, side effect laden pills) and hoping it holds.  I want to kill it with radioactive iodine and then take meds to mimic the active hormone.  That is so much easier to control.  If I have to take the meds until I can get that done, if, in fact, that is the route to be taken, I'll do it.  But just temporarily. 

See, if I were a turtle, I'd either be soup or roadkill.  If I were Ozzy, well, he is impervious to just about everything. 

I'm applying for a part time position as a Chemo pharmacy tech in the same hospital.  It is purportedly already spoken for but it's up for bid and I'm trying.  I can't say it's something that I'm just aching to do, but I can say that if I don't get out of working in my own department there will be a trail of bodies.  I will bring in less money and pay more for insurance, but given the fact that my recent $6000 hospital stay (of less than 40 hours!) cost me under $150 in the end, the offset of paying more vs my quirky need for all sorts of physicians will be worth it.  We'll see. 

Turtles don't have these issues.  Neither does Ozzy.  I'm completely assuming, of course.

Oh, and get this... I may have mentioned that my Ferretin level was dangerously low and even with supplements 2-3 times a day for months on end, it barely budged.  So, for two or three months I stopped taking them (along with anything that was not pivotal to survival - not liking meds since the drug reaction).  Don't you know it that my ferretin has DOUBLED!  WTF?!  I totally deserve my own show on the Discovery Health Channel.