12:34am, the day of my endocrinologist appointment.
What a shitty day. I knew that I would be nervous in the lead-up to the appointment today, but holy shit… I didn’t expect ANYTHING like yesterday. There are no words to describe the uncontrollable and unmoving unrest & sheer RAGE I have felt. If I didn’t know why this was happening, I would be certain I was going crazy and would seriously, have taken myself off to Graylands voluntarily. Yes. That bad.
The good news, I guess, is that I am in a ‘high’ cycle, which means no pain for the last 3 days. I hope it’s high enough to catch in a blood test! The weirder news, just in case you thought you could read this blog and avoid the TMI stuff (jokes on you!)… my period that was 3 weeks late arrived today. The optimal time to test hormones & see what’s going on is cycle date 3, so I am a little bit "squee!" at the idea that things may just be obvious enough to get a diagnosis quickly.
I hope.
But of course, knowing what I do about the medical profession’s attitude about this, I am not going to hold my breath. Although the puffy face, the shoulder fat pads, the unbearable chin acne that shot up this last 2 days (all related to excess cortisol production), just MIGHT mean we can catch it. Jason is coming to my appointment to try and get through to the Doctor that I am really sick. Because I am terrible at getting that across myself. Hell, I can barely look anyone in the eye without wanting to rip their head off, so I can’t possibly think straight!
I have been thinking a lot about spiritual issues of late, wondering why on earth I keep being punished, despite being a good person. I don’t really have an answer for it other than if there IS a deity, that the only explanation for all of it is that I am somehow supposed to get treatment, so I can then go on and pursue research and cure everyone myself as a Doctor. I am not terribly religious, but I have to say that if things do go my way, I will repent like a motherfucker, because for the first time in about 15 months, underneath all the facial burning, the shadow-of-my-former-self and the telling my husband that he probably SHOULD kill himself because "hey, we have life insurance"… and hearing that like it’s coming out of someone else’s mouth … I feel some hope that things will work out.
Well, that and overwhelming dread, that I have not been able to get past, at the prospect of potentially not living to see my 35th or 40th birthday. And unbelievable paranoid, bipolar-like mood swings that go from complete and utter despair to tears, to screaming anger, all in the space of a few hours. I don’t recognise myself, but somehow I need to just know not to involve others and lock myself away.
Which, when you have hormones telling you to be a psycho bitch and seek out anyone to pick a fight… well… easier said than done.
But hey, at least the debilitating muscle & joint pain is gone, right?
My poor, poor family.
I was also reading up on some bits & pieces today in medical journals (what? you don’t do that?) and had a pretty scary revelation… about how lucky I am to have had 3 healthy-ish pregnancies. The worst outcome we had was Moo and his IUGR/Prematurity/Respiratory Distress… but it turns out… it could have been much, much worse if I had waited longer to have children. And I may not have been able to have them at all.
It turns out that the chances of Cushing’s patients conceiving, then maintaining pregnancy, are quite slim. But I have a theory about this one…. one that when the old genius-brain is restored and back to normal I will study and prove (among others)… and that is that because Cushing’s remains "dormant" for some time with cyclical or episodic patients and they get their diagnosis many years after being symptomatic… they are lumped into that PCOS/Hypertensive pregnancy/Atypical preeclampsia group and not generally followed up and not screened for Cushing’s. Like me.
In hindsight, my hypertensive pregnancies were probably in response to excess cortisol in my system… the blood pressure, the IUGR, the failed induction… the failed GD test but then back to normal….all of it. A broken feedback loop. And it explains why with my 2nd pregnancy, after hospitalisation at 26 weeks with preeclampsia, upon receiving dexamethasone… my BP returned to normal because it threw my cortisol down (it works like that paradoxically) and bought me another few weeks. It all starts to make sense. Each pregnancy progressively worse, the muscle waste, erratic protein & glucose spill… all of it makes sense.
So obviously, I am feeling introspective and philosophical about this whole thing right now, because initially where I only saw anger and hurt at people having not picked up my Cushing’s earlier… I am now feeling so very, very fortunate that I lived in ignorance for so long… that I managed to have my 3 lovely kids.
More and more, I also think it points less to a pituitary tumour and more to a tumour on the adrenal gland – given that I have had successful pregnancies, cyclical cushings and failed to suppress on dexamethasone. Will be interesting to see what it is, anyway. Oh and I also think my thyroid is fucked to boot. Yay me!
Ah the irony… when I was feeling low, I was angry and upset. Now, my body is screaming 100% anger & fury, I can now only feel some humility and optimism. That’s why I like to write this blog. It’s why I read medical journals. It’s why I like to understand everything that is going on, because on some level even when I am at my worst, I can take comfort in knowing that intellectually, there is an upside…. and that when this is all over, I am off to Medical school and I am going to help people like me.
And yes, I am a complete fucking headcase about today, in case you were wondering. But, you know… I am going to try and sleep… ok… well…. I am going to go and lay down & close my eyes, but not actually sleep. Same thing, right?
There’s a chance I will write again before the appointment, but if not, I will write later today.