Among the things that I need to do tomorrow, I need to call my endocrinologists's office and ask them to call me in some of the short-acting thyroid medication into my pharmacy. That's right, folks, it's time for the third verse! Friday I stop taking my Synthroid (long-acting thyroid medicine), and start taking Cytomel instead (the short-acting version).
I'll stay on the Cytomel for four weeks... until the booger hits... when I'm on no synthetic thyroid hormones at all and get to enjoy all of the perks of being hypthyroid. I'll be on nothing for two weeks, during which point The Hater and I will also blow the dust off of the Low Iodine cookbooks and go back to eating sticks and twigs.
This is all in preparation for a lab draw, specifically for Thyroglobulin (tumor marker). If the tumor marker comes back higher than we think it should be, I'll take another Radioactive Iodine treatment for the thyroid cancer.
If the tumor marker comes back zero, then I won't have to take a treatent at all. The difference between this possible treatment and the possible treatments in my past is that this one truly is dependant on the tumor marker. The magical "IF" has come into play, which really is a step in the right direction.
IF... the tumor marker is low, then I won't have to take a treatment.
IF... my scan next spring is negative, then we can try to concieve.
It's nice to be at a point where the illusion of choices are present. Instead of choices that automatically end in surgery or mandated treatments, everything is now dependant on scans and labs.
Although it really is good news, it doesn't change the fact that I'm not looking forward to being pitiful or feeling like a zombie for a couple of months. It's been long enough since the last time that I did this that I don't entirely remember exactly how crappy I felt. I think that's a pretty nifty defense mechanism...
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