As I’ve mentioned to friends, my endocrinologist seems to feel some pressing need to inform me of the costs of the medications that I’m on. And as I’ve said to them, I don’t really care how much the drugs cost, only that I get what I need. Okay, sure, the things I now require are expensive (note to taxpayers: you’re spending about $1200-1500 a month on prescriptions for your favorite wabbit.) The guy tends to make me feel like a drug seeker…but it’s not as if I’m in the ER every weekend screaming for morphine or percoset to treat my FMS. I’m in need of hormones, for Pete’s Sake.
The penny pinching bothers me, especially now. My lab test in January showed I was slightly hypothyroid. But, “we’ll wait and see.” In May they came back as slightly more hypothyroid, but still…evidently I can just suffer through being cold from the inside out all the time, and I can hit the gym 4-5 times a week (and seriously work out, not just show up and expect the Fitness Fairy to bonk me over the head with her magical wand) and gain weight.
The labs were repeated last week, and honestly, I expected another “Let’s wait and see.” Because, honestly, thyroid replacement meds are so freaking expensive (insert much rolling of the eyes here.)
But, surprise. He called the house Friday night (gotta be upfront here: he’s completely snowed under with double the number of patients he should have) and told Mike he put in a scip for me, I can start ASAP (not til Monday since the pharmacy is closed) and we’ll re-do the blood work 3-4 days before my next appointment (on my freaking birthday, thankeweveddymuch) to see where things are.
Am I happy?
Well…not happy. But relieved.
I’m tired of being cold all the time.
I’m tired of working out with no visible results.
I’m tired of my nails flaking and breaking.
But mostly, I’m tired of being fat.
So, hopefully, this is the last piece of the me-puzzle. I’ve got the growth hormone replacement, the don-t-pee-yourself-to-death hormone replacement, estrogen replacement, and now thyroid replacement. Maybe in a few weeks I’ll feel fully human…or as close as I ever was.
Too bad none of that will take care of my ever-growing facial hair.
Word of advice: if you’re female, don’t shave the facial hair. Ever. It just grows back coarser and faster, and people will call you “sir.”
That’s “Sir Wabbit, Ma’am,” to you.