Feb. 2nd, 2017

Huh

Feb. 2nd, 2017 03:02 am
spikethemuffin: (Gardening)
So this is it, lately: the latest plummet in hypothyroidism has deboned me and poured me limp upon the carpet like a puddle of protein with fortuitously strong surface tension. I can take more levothyroxine and be awake, functional, or not in pain; or I can go to the doctor, get a blood test, and find out how much more levothyroxine I should be taking. But I can't take extra enough to get me awake, because that would skew my blood test. I can get to the lab, if I can wake in the a.m., and walk for three hours... it's not happening. Gravity is a problem. Is a puzzlement. Perhaps this paycheck will leave me enough to spare that I may take a taxicab.

Curiously, however, I have found some things, old letters and such, that bring me to great peace on a subject over which I have been wringing my hands for years. Tiny, pick-at-the-brain things. To quote Arthur and Fenchurch: "Well, that's all right, then." The more I excavate, the more I think find that as much as I THINK I have been biting my tongue and refraining from saying something I probably ought/ oughtn't to say... well, I probably have said it already, perhaps a few times. Send the Discovery Channel on to the neighbors; there is no mystery left in me.

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