Okay, I am. It isn’t so much I don’t have shit to say, it’s more my ass hurts. I understand that doesn’t make sense, but it isn’t untrue. Like, everything hurts and it doesn’t matter because I can’t get comfortable to sit to write anything. Or sit. Or lie down. It fucking blows.
But I think my thyroid is being a twat, so I have to go get bloodwork done and I do not fucking love the idea of going to the doctor during a pandemic. I have been, of course. I didn’t love it then either. I actually sorta fucking hate it when there isn’t a pandemic. My new GP is certainly a lovely lady. She’s smart and concerned and listens and is a lot like my very sweet GP of old who was great at being concerned and listening and taking my account of things as maybe… you know… accurate. Plus, this lady (well, I guess now so does my old sweet GP, as fifteen years has passed) has confidence that comes through experience.
My thyroid has been a borderline twat for awhile, but I’ve felt like hell for a lot longer, so I know it isn’t entirely that. But a few things picked up like cray cray this winter and I feel like they seem to be maybe more indicative of this becoming a problem. I’m extra pissy, both in personality and at night. Because they give you the brilliant suggestion “try not drinking too much before bed” when you tell them you get up to pee a lot during the night, I tended not to bring it up. But it got weird because I was getting up, peeing like a race chicken, and then having to do it again in twenty minutes. Or sometimes it’s like, I’m not going to have excessive liquid intake after five in the afternoon, and I’m fine when I got to bed, and I still get up to pee, and then an hour later I get up to pee again and it’s like I found every container in the house that has a silica gel packet in it and sucked on them. So in the interest of not turning into a husk by morning, I have to go have a drink. (I sweat like a sonofabitch. I have for a long time though.)
Mostly, though… I’ve been hot constantly. Doesn’t help that the house heats unevenly (I simultaneously love and hate steam heat). But it’s well below freezing and I go out without a coat on and I’m sweating. On the one hand, beats being inside where it is warm and still sweating, but on the other, that’s probably not a great thing.
I still yell at the television. I have anger. I have anger at those January sixth motherfuckers… who they are arresting a lot of but seriously not fucking enough, not fucking fast enough.
I am half vaccinated, which is good. I will feel better when the other half is behind me, and I wanted to wait til after to see the doctor but then my sleep doctor was like, “Dammit, see an endocrinologist. You know they won’t take you in that quickly.” But then my GP wants to see me. I guess enough time has passed with the blood tests that she wants new ones. Pfffft.