Not surprisingly, he can’t smell the super strong scent our latest laundry detergent has left on our clothes, but my bloodhound nose can. I don’t like it very much. I love smelly things, just not this particular smell.
I was shocked to find my lab results have already been posted. My cholesterol is still bad but better, and my thyroid is the same… borderline by their charts but PERFECT for me. Just 2 points higher on the T4 and 5 lower on the TSH and I would have the anxiety from hell.
I didn’t test positive for muscle inflammation. Yeah, that’s because I haven’t been taking the damn statins. I thought it was about time I gave her a heads up rather than surprise her when I see her. This way we can hopefully save some time. So I told her my cholesterol is better because I made it better, and that I need a break from the medication issues for a while. Also, if I do return to statins I might want to go on Simvastatin because I’m pretty sure I didn’t have issues with that. My problem was the levothyroxine in conjunction with a rapid HR and perimenopause.
Didn’t know they tested for muscle inflammation. That’s good to know for if I ever do go back on statins.
She said we’d discuss the thyroid at our appointment, but there’s nothing to “discuss.” I already made it clear to both her and Doc O that 75mcgs is all I can tolerate. For a good long time I want to go by how I feel and not by what their damn numbers say.
As for the female hormone tests results… she didn’t leave any comments on that and I don’t understand what they mean for the most part. But one of them was high, and according to our research, the closer you get to menopause, the higher they go.
I’m 99% positive the Pravastatins did indeed cause the throat irritation she blames on anxiety, but there is the possibility that the fluoride toothpaste we got online could have worsened that. Even he stopped using it cuz he noticed it was making his toothache worse.
Nothing’s changed… I’m standing a firm ground and not likely to change my mind anytime soon. I really do need a break from the on and off medical drama I’ve been going through the last two years, and I don’t care anymore if Doc A believes me as far as the sore throat goes. I know what’s normal for me and what’s not, and I know what symptoms I usually experience when I do feel anxious. A sore throat isn’t one of them. Besides, isn’t it quite a coincidence that I get the sore throat both times I take the stuff? It’s listed as a side effect, the pharmacist knew what I was talking about when I asked her about it, and that’s that. Again, though, what she thinks or believes doesn’t matter. She works for me and I say I’m not changing my current protocols for a while. I will continue with the same levothyroxine dose and leave the rest alone for now. Then I’ll deal with the cholesterol after I’ve had more than just a few months of serenity.
I did tell her about Tammy (who said she feels the best she’s felt in months now that she’s been stented) but not the details, of course, until I see her next month.
Tammy may be doing better, but Paula’s in big trouble based on the nightmare I had about her. I don’t care what happens to her after the way she dumped me when I told her that staying with us for two weeks, as she automatically planned on doing, would be a bit long for everybody, but every time I would have a bad dream about her, something bad would always happen to her. Every. Single. Time.
In the dream I was trying to explain something to her that she just didn’t get. Her stupidity frustrated me and reminded me of how slow Andy would be to catch onto things, though Andy was still much smarter than she ever was.
The dream took place in my grandparents’ house. We were sitting on the couch in their den (though they weren’t alive and living there). A guy that was slim but nearly as tall as the ceiling suddenly entered the room from the garage. Just as I was about to ask who the hell he was and why he was barging into the house uninvited, he yanked Paula up with one arm and hurled her into the wall between the garage entryway and the area where a built-in desk was located.
The force in which she hit the wall scared the shit out of me and I turned, ran out of the den, through the kitchen, and out the front door. My goal was to run next door for help, but I woke up as I was running across the front yard and about 10 steps from the road.
I don’t know what shit’s about to hit the fan in her life, but I have mentally dug a huge hole and tossed her, Andy, Nane, Maliheh and Alison right into it. Then I poured gasoline on the 5 of them, struck a match, and dropped it into that hole. Lastly, I have archived them as a thing of the past.
Had another weird dream about dad and his friend Jim, though I never did see dad. Jim is dead, but Charlotte lives in a nursing home, last I knew.
I was in a huge house that seemed to have many bedrooms. My room was at one end of the place. You had to go down a set of stairs that was sort of in the middle of the house and then back upstairs to get to another set of bedrooms on the other side of the house. In one long room with a bathroom at the end of it were two double beds in which I knew was my dad and Jim’s room. I also knew Jim’s bed was closest to the bathroom. I heard Jim in the bathroom (though I don’t know how I knew it was him) and hurried out of the room before he spotted me. I was just closing the bedroom door behind me when I heard the bathroom door opening.