I wake at 0415 with an angel whispering that my alarm is going off, no, my wife is still asleep - I just have to figure I am less alone than I might scientifically be certain of... I weigh 207.0 pounds, my blood pressure is 132/81 and heart rate is 42 bpm. My wife found a message for me to answer on our service from the good doctor that likes me fitting his box - lucky me he isn't a mortician. Okay, after walking to the dock and getting into work, waiting until the remainder of our time zone gets into work and opens the doors, I call and find out that I need to pick up a prescription and schedule an appointment in three weeks for another blood test. I am falling apart faster than I am willing to pay for.
Seems I have Hypothyroidism and my doctor wants me to take Levoxyl to make me more better, and there goes my illusion of perfection. I shouldn't complain, my doctor is a really nice guy, pretty proficient and has this really great nurse working with him that I always love to see, yes she is cute, but I like her because she weilds the needles so well when drawing blood. Seems that last blood test said my EGFR was low (56) and my TSH, 3rd Generation was high (14.88). So I will have to look that information up but I assume that it means I am going to die, and I should have all the symtoms: fatigue, mental depression, sluggishness (how did they know I am almost always a slug?), feeling cold (riding motorcycles in this weather - isn't everyone?), weight gain (and I thought it was hibernation fat), dry skin and hair, constipation (not this apple eating maniac), and a very feminine problem which I know I don't have.
This does give me the opportunity to goof off today, practice with the choir and go to bed early after a hot shower. Tomorrow I pick up the medicine and get my take home keys inventoried.
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