THE BEST Of TIMES, THE WORST Of TIMES

[Rafe]

I would definitely read about Betty! You have a lot of local fans on your journey. No pressure, dude.
Seriously, you got out of the endo's without a funeral insurance plan?

Some people here are good at "sampling" medical advice by going to a pretty child, shrugging it off, moving on. I used to come out with an existential crisis. No more PCPs for me. But I use a med spa clinic for t3. It's compounded t3 so I'm not convinced it's any better than the other types & I may try the liquids this winter. Methylcellulose, I mean. And it's altogether expensive just for access. PM if you want to convo on this more.
Happy day All

 

[thebigpeatowski]

OH. EM. GEE....Superb Vehicular Repurposing!!!

@Simonsays , I'm hyperventilating.....(runs for paper bag)

I shan't rest until I possess a Double-Decker.

Bloody BRILLIANT.

Cheers

 

[Simonsays]

BigP just rereading your blog and saw these beauties.

I'm staring at three empty bottles of Progest-E on my nightstand...like an alcoholic waking up from a month long bender.

Shake A Leg Dr. Peat! I'm in a bad spot.

I take lots of powdered Lysine, it don't matter to Jesus.

Brilliant My favourite!!!!


You write with such honesty, humour, warmth and without ego. You are also generous to others who post to you.

You might not be good at chemistry (join the club) , but youre sure good at English!! If the RPForum gave out awards for best blogs/threads theres only one winner!

The Hemingway (sorry for my ignorance of female American writers) of the RPForum. Methinks your brain synapses fire real well despite the fog!!

 

[Simonsays]

Also, I dug around in my Cabinet of Neurosis and found a brand new, un-opened, shiny amber glass jar

I have one of these too, spilling out if i open the doors, now i have a name for it. Cabinet of Neurosis! Brilliant.....ill shut up now

 

[Simonsays]

 

[thebigpeatowski]

I would definitely read about Betty! You have a lot of local fans on your journey. No pressure, dude.
Seriously, you got out of the endo's without a funeral insurance plan?

Ha ha...Rafe, we're definitely on the same wave length. The Endo Narrative is NOT over, do stay tuned. I'm unphased by Pretty Child Physician, she's as innocent as she is handicapped.

And I may try something this Winter as well....compounding or? I talked with an MD in Southern Cal yesterday afternoon, I have back-up plans that don't include being defrauded by a second rate peptide outfit.

I am feeling the need to document my bus journey. ETD for Practice Bus is November 9th. However....

The carpet is not laid yet, bed has not been ordered, navigator seat has not arrived AND I still have 30 yards of fabric still staring at me waiting to turn into curtains. (gulp) And I still gotta figure out internet access...

I'm only slightly panicking.

OFFICIAL ITINERARY:

I NEED to be in Cali by the 14th for a Temple of The Dog show...this is Music Therapy, VERY important. I would have preferred to rock out in the intimacy at one of their Paramount shows here in ma own Home Town, but scalpers and the crooks at TicketMaster conspired against me. Whatever.

Next, my life shall consist of Aimless Wandering until Christmas, where I'm gonna driveway surf at my oldest son's in South Carolina.

I'll wind up 2016 by picking up my youngest son and his girlfriend at the Miami airport and we're all driving down to Key West for New Year's.....camping at some sweaty low-budget iguana infested camp ground run by toothless hicks, no doubt.

I hope my air conditioner works.....and that Practice Bus don't break down somewhere along the way.


*My apologies if I've offended any toothless hicks that may be reading this...Like a Bad Moon, the Estrogen is Rising in the absence of T3 and she gets a tad belligerent.

You understand.

 

[thebigpeatowski]

You write with such honesty, humour, warmth and without ego.

Awe shucks Simon, you're too kind....it's kinda weird, I've never written anything before this log.

I've found writing to be excruciatingly therapeutic. Like music, it's become an absolutely integral part of my healing/journey...For me, this isn't just about a broken metabolism or f*cked up physiology.

There's layers of mental and emotional baggage that needed to be dealt with too....A continual Letting Go and discovering new ways of thinking.

If a mental health professional would have told me to "journal" as part of my healing, I'd have told them to Kiss Off....Busting Boundaries, who knew?






I'm enormously grateful for the education, enlightenment, the safe harbor and especially the camaraderie here.

Roam if you want to
Without anything but the love we feel
Fly the great big sky
See the great big sea
Kick through continents
Busting boundaries
Take it hip to hip, rocket through the wilderness
Around the world the trip begins with a kiss

 

[Simonsays]

There's layers of mental and emotional baggage that needed to be dealt with too....A continual Letting Go and discovering new ways of thinking.

Yep sure is......just keep putting it in your blog! Keep on keepin on!

 

[whodathunkit]

BigP just rereading your blog and saw these beauties.

Where da blog? Forgive my igrunce. I should know but I don't ATM.

@thebigpeatowski, baby...two words for healing: coffee enemas. I've known about them for 30 years and never in my life thought I would be doing them, let alone recommending them...but they are a GAME CHANGER, esp. if your liver is screwed (as I think you suspect yours to be). Oh, and nice coffee buzz without the jitters. I'm letting slip part of my story here, but...turns out I can feel my lymph move. All over my body. It's the damndest thing, a real watershed experience for me. What a trip.

 

[Simonsays]

@whodathunkit This thread/blog

 

[whodathunkit]

@whodathunkit This thread/blog

Okay. I thought maybe there was another place.

 

[thebigpeatowski]

I wrote this down because I HAD to....it's part of my therapy.

I needed to see it in black and white so it would stop looping in my head.

I wrote it exactly as it occurred.

THE ENDO INCIDENT:

I went to see an endocrinologist because I wanted to have some hormones tested (PTH, DHEA, Fasting Insulin, Female Hormones...you know, the usual stuff). My insurance won't pay for the hormone testing without good reason to suspect endocrine problems. I wanted the Fasting Insulin out of curiosity due to my history of obesity and "diabetes".

Pretty Child Physician has not personally observed any aspect of My Condition, as such she would not order the above tests. The good news is I've overcome my fear of needles and I'm finding data gathering kinda FUN, sort of a new hobby for me.


Plus, Pretty Child Physician (who has deemed me to be in perfect health) wasn't gonna give me any Cytomel, so there's that.


BACKGROUND: I went to this specific Endo because I've seen him before, last time being back in 2011 when I was experiencing some visibly obvious hormonal issues. He also happens to be the Endo who told me I had Hashi's (probably since youth), something NO other doc has ever bothered mentioning. His prior hormone testing for non-congenital adrenal hyperplasia found my results to be "perplexing, but not diagnostic" and he had sent me a letter in the mail saying that he wanted to run some more tests to further troubleshoot My Condition. He's an older doc and my impression then was that he possessed wisdom from many years of clinical practice.

*feel free to roll your eyes*

He's an Old School Endo who still conducts business with a pen & paper, there's no computer in the exam room, he literally takes notes in quite random fashion. The appointment started off well enough. I had come fully prepared (armed) and started off by presenting him with that letter from 2011 regarding My Condition. This was Exhibit A from my body of evidence, thereby establishing PROOF that I DO INDEED have a Condition, despite what Pretty Child may have concluded. I explained that I'd lost my insurance and was unable to follow up with further testing, but I was back now and wished to pick up where we'd left off.

He read the note, had me hop up on the exam table and he began to test my reflexes, starting with pupil dilation and eyeball tracking (watch my finger). Next came the palpitation of my thyroid gland (go ahead and swallow) then elbow tendons.

Next, he arrives at my knee with that rubber hammer dealio, but instead he pauses the Official Reflex Exam to compliment me on my lovely tan (wearing shorts)......and then he begins to sing to me.....yes he's SINGING some sort of country music song, while he is squeezing my calf muscles. WTF? Is this part of the Exam? My head begins to flood.

Then a brief pause to say "I can tell you've been exercising, that's good" (in a creepy tone of voice) He picks up singing again and it's turned in to a leg massage of sorts for what feels like an eternity. By now I'm sweating and feel like I'm suffocating....thinking HOLY SH*T, THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING.

He pauses again while standing way too close, hands on my knees and asks "Do you like Toby Keith? (same creepy tone). My head is reeling by now and besides I have NO ******* idea who Toby Keith is.

ME: "Um, uh...." I lean away from him, scooting backwards trying to reposition while stuck to that damn paper on the table. "Well, um...I don't know who Toby Keith is, but I know who Keith Richards is..... does that count?"

My feeble attempt at humor in an effort to neutralize this freakishly bizarre situation seems to irritate him and he moves back to his desk and begins jotting notes. He never did complete the knee and achilles tendon reflexes, but he doesn't say a word. I realize that I haven't taken a breath in a while and probably should, but now what do I do? I'm certainly not gonna ask if he's done yet, so I make the assumption that the Exam portion of my appointment is over and practically leap off the table to the safety of my chair (near the door). I clutch my ammo bag across my body because my heart feels as if it may pound right out of my chest.


Many minutes of awkward silence ensue while he reads through my chart, circling stuff and jotting notes all over the place. Finally he reaches my most recent thyroid labs from Pretty Child Physician. Still rattled, I nervously produce Exhibit B, the old labs from his own office for comparison. I point out that my TSH is rising and is higher now (2.910) than it was back then (1.07) and that I feel better when it's lower. I quickly produce Exhibits C & D as well showing that as my TSH has fluctuated over the years and that I have directly correlated this fluctuation with the symptoms of My Condition And btw, I no longer have antibodies and haven't for three years. I'm not sure why I brought that up, but it qualifies as Giant Mistake #5383, but who's counting?

He's clearly agitated and mumbles that maybe he wrote some numbers down wrong. He checks his chart again and compares it to my paperwork. Nope, no mistake. He shrugs and nonchalantly tells me that young women outgrow Hashimoto's all the time, adding "You're gonna make me crazy".

This is STRIKE ONE, only I'm not smart enough to change my approach because I'm still off balance over the Exam weirdness.

He goes back to my chart looking for more ammo while recalibrating his position. Next, he asks what medication I've been taking while not on insurance and I produce a nearly empty bottle of Cynomel (aka Illicit Mexican Contraband) Giant Mistake #5384. I have no idea why I thought it was a good idea to actually be honest about this, but there it is. My flagrant naivety is on full display for ya'lls to marvel at, go ahead.

With that he launches into Full Assault Mode and tells me everything from Mexico is garbage. I counter back saying it's superior to anything I've ever tried and btw I've tried them all (while waving the Paper Evidence up in the air).....and furthermore I only want T3 please, cuz T4 does me no good AND that I actually want my TSH something under 1. He yells NO WAY!!!...STRIKE TWO!!!

He further escalates his attack telling me that I've caused myself bodily harm by using said Illicit Mexican Garbage. He orders me to have an echocardiogram, a stress test and DEXA bone scan immediately!!! Not knowing what any of those tests are, I agree to do them.....Oh, and one more thing, "WHERE is your lipid panel?"

ME: Well, that was a separate draw because Pretty Child Physician wanted it to be fasted, so those results came later. Recall, he's dealing with piles of faxed papers....might as well be ******* stone tablets. He doesn't have access to the interweb.

He's rifles through my chart again (PERMANENT RECORD) searching for a shovel to bury me with and pulls out the "diagnosis" of IBS from a couple years ago and with an Aha Victory Moment he's absolutely certain that my chronic diarrhea was due too much T3 and that I've most certainly destroyed my heart muscle. Oh, the irony of being buried by my own sh*t.

I tried to explain that taking Illicit Mexican Garbage had nothing to do with my gut issues, and that I had indeed tapered off my meds in the past to see if that was causing my problem. Reminded him that I had antibiotic associated diarrhea after my appendix ruptured which Nystatin had stopped it....blah, blah, blah....it's all falling on deaf ears. EndoDouche is not a good listener.

Trying to reason with him is utterly useless at this point, he's practically frothing at the mouth in Conquest. He says "You think you're such a smart girl, pull up that lipid panel on your phone." I wished I would have told him that I can't remember my password, but the truth of the matter is my memory has improved and I can remember passwords. Going down in flames and unable to tell even a modest well-placed white lie, I melt in to submissive compliance. (Giant Mistake #5385).

Upon viewing my lipid panel he starts in with "You NEED to be on medication." By now I'm in full-on Fight Mode. I'm adamant about NOT taking statins and tell him FLAT OUT that my elevated cholesterol is precisely due to a lack of T3, reminding him that I've been off meds for months. Again, I produce the paper trail of evidence showing that when I'm taking Levoxyl or Synthroid (or nothing) that my cholesterol rises. Taking T3 lowers it. Even Armour lowers it. Here's the PROOF Doc, look at it again....

He takes the paper from my hand, but he doesn't bother looking. Instead, he and flips it over. He's gonna teach me the Best Correlate Lesson...it's some mumbo jumbo about using Total Cholesterol and subtracting HDL.....I dunno, this time I wasn't listening. He's doing the math while explaining that I have clogged arteries and very serious cardiovascular disease. But wait, the number comes out to under 200....doesn't matter, I NEED to be on a statin. I'm gonna have a stroke and he's actually saving my life!

I look at the paper in defeat and notice that his math is incorrect...... btw Peatlings, the mistake is not in my favor, so WHY I even pointed out his mathematical error is so completely ******* RETARDED it's beyond belief (Giant Mistake # 5386).

SIDE NOTE: I've officially dubbed My Condition THRICE TARDED, it's a real condition. The definition of retarded being merely tarded twice, Thrice Tarded is a much more serious. If my elevated cholesterol wasn't diagnostic enough, which it IS, then surely this whole new level of autistic oblivion is a clear and direct indication of my hypo-metabolic brain.

BACK TO REALITY: He scribbles out his math error and scrawls BAD NEWS in bold letters with more dire warnings. I remind him of all the progress I've made with diet and lifestyle changes and continue to stand my ground. So, NO, absolutely no statins and as a matter of fact I actually believe that cholesterol is VERY protective. (oh god, when will I learn to shut my mouth?) Now, about those hormone tests I came in for......STEEERRRIIIKE THREE!!!

He's so pissed off by now that he pronounces he won't be doing ANY hormone panels until he has the results of the echocardiogram, stress test and bone density scan. He literally throws the pile of papers at me and storms out of the room.

I have that effect on a lot men.

I start picking up papers, saying to myself "Well then, I guess the appointment is over." when he suddenly reappears in the door way, pointing his bony finger at me and practically screams "You're gonna give yourself a heart attack!!!"

I guess that means goodbye.

I go back to paper sorting while I attempt to process what just occurred and a Rotund Rubber Woman enters the exam room smiling nervously. Clearly she's been witness to or at least within earshot of this final attack and she's been sent in to provide a finishing touch. "Okay" (she takes a deep breath and fake smiles some more).....well just give this paper to the folks at the desk up front."

ME: Um, is that it? No explanation. No instructions?

HER: "Yep, go on out to the front and hand this to them."


I'm so disoriented I'm not sure which way the front desk is...

 

[thebigpeatowski]

*PLEASE DO NOT READ*


It's long-winded rubbish.....journaling for the mentally ill.....another attempt to break the cycle of unproductive behavior/thinking. The good news here is that I'm getting better at breaking the cycle.

If you choose to proceed with the next few posts please be aware that it's at your own risk and don't say I didn't warn you.


PART 2, THE CRISIS:

This one is for @Rafe, who hit the nail on the head.....an existential crisis of epic proportions began immediately upon leaving the endocrinologist's office. This single event struck a nerve so deep I was unaware it even existed. When I say that it struck a nerve, I mean that quite literally......it triggered a cascade of behavioral and physical bull**** that I was completely unprepared for. My nervous system collapsed as I began to question everything. I spent an entire week worrying. Making myself crazy with over-analysis and second guessing.

What if the Doc is right?

What if I have done damage?

What if my heart muscle is weakened?

What if I have a heart attack while on the road?

What the hell am I thinking? I can't go out on the open road! It's scary out there!! The world is dangerous and full of bad people!!! I CAN'T DO IT!!!

What if I CRASH???!!!

What if my bones resemble the Swiss cheese that I eat nearly every day?

What if fracture something?

What if he sees this pattern in his office every day? Neurotic Females overdosing on thyroid meds.

What if my beloved goat milk has sludged up me veins and arteries?

I have been told I have "noisy arteries", what if I go in to cardiac arrest on the flippin' Stress Test treadmill???

Serotonin Synergizing with Estrogen Hell. My throat became constricted, I developed chest pain and shortness of breath. Massive insomnia came next complete with mind racing and tinnitus. Low back pain set in and my digestion came to a standstill. I hadn't felt that sh*tty since, well....the last time I wrote those exact words. But it gets so much worse....

HATCH THE BIG GET EVEN:

I decide that in order to save my sanity I need to do all of these tests cuz I might really be dying and simply not know it. And furthermore, I have a sick need to prove to EndoDouche that he's got it all wrong. Much like his faulty math skills, he's jumped to incorrect conclusions and needs to be put in his place....you know, as a service to all neurotic hypo females and society in general.

I resolve to pass all tests with flying Red, White and Blue colors, thereby hoisting his ignorance like a patriotic banner..... I'll march confidently back into his office wearing Cowboy Boots and Gingham, chin held high and whistling Dixie. I'll coyly feign forgiveness and understanding while demurely holding out my hand for T3....which, btw IS the appropriate medication for My Condition (if you aren't convinced yet).......Good Lord willing and Sh*t Creek don't rise, I won't be hauled out in handcuffs.

Eventually I come to realize my latest Get Even Plan absolutely without a doubt PROVES that I'm dumber than even Toby Keith's poorly mended fence post.

In the end, my Plan did nothing to mitigate my stress which continued to manifest unabated in very real physical symptoms. My heart rate plummets. My hands, feet and nose go icy cold. I have NO energy and yet I can't sleep. I could not get warm. My blood pressure went up. My boobs ache and it's nowhere near my period.

I ponder just how the hell I'm gonna pass a Cardiac Stress Test.

I don't do cardio.

And I have no idea what a bone scan entails, so naturally I google it. Oh dear Lord it involves X-rays.

I don't do ionizing radiation either.

For days I lose ALL of my joy. My sense of humor vanished. All of my enthusiasm for everything I LOVE was gone, replaced in an instant with FEAR, anxiety, depression guilt and shame (which I thought was strange.)

Looking back it's seems silly to be worrying about crashing, I had already crashed.


to be continued...

 

[Blossom]

I'm so sorry you had to go through that @thebigpeatowski. You really should consider filing a complaint on that guy for his inappropriate behavior. No one should be treated that way and if he's done it to you chances are he has done it to someone else before and will do it again. I'm talking about the way he was coming on to you.
The medical stuff you can't really do much about because he is following standard protocol (except fire him). I highly doubt you will ever find a doctor that will agree with you (us) on thyroid hormones and all that but you still deserve to be treated professionally and to not have to worry about being sexually harassed! I've chosen to fire two doctors since I've been Peating and I'm glad I did it. It's great for overcoming learned helplessness.

 

[thebigpeatowski]

@Blossom ....thanks for your kind words. I won't be filing any complaints though. EndoDouche isn't worth my time or energy.

This event while VERY STRESSFUL was far more useful to me than I ever imagined. It brought up a lot of stuff that I needed to deal with...I've stopped questioning why the universe uses sh*t like this to teach me things.

All I know is that power and freedom reside in the ability to go with the flow, learn the lessons and walk away a better person for it. There were some mighty powerful lessons for me personally, I'll share some (though prolly not all of the gory details) as I move through them.



EXISTENTIAL CRISIS, PART 3...wondering how many parts there are? Dunno.

Do you see the pattern? (speaking only to myself here)

Winters are tough on me, sure. My plan was to get some Cytomel and begin titrating for Fall/Winter as necessary. But after much reflection regarding this particular incident, it appears that My Condition goes much deeper and in more directions than I than ever I imagined...peeling back the layers.

And yeah, My Condition can definitely be triggered by endotoxin from poor food choices too, but my diet has been practically PRISTINE and unchanged for months.

This event was 100% triggered by my own inability to cope.

Within hours of leaving EndoDouche's office I developed debilitating symptoms and they were FAR worse than any potato/starch triggered mayhem.

This had nothing to do with appropriate nutrition....or food....or medication....or neurotically ingesting the proper supplements...or lack of sunshine...or exercise. In fact the ONLY common Denominator is me. Just me.

Where did all of this come from?

And WHY now?

I DO NOT have time for this, I'm busy. I have waaaaay too much stuff to do!!! I'm about to embark on the journey of a lifetime, I have a deadline!!! I HATE DEADLINES, they're so pressure-y (yeah, that's a word)...... I felt like I had been hit by me own bus as ironic as that is...But I don't have time for a crisis!!!

Too bad, doesn't matter, now is the time.

Life seems to have it's own rhythm. Apparently the Universe has it's own timing, it's Plan supersedes my own....and looking back I can see that is a very good thing. There's NO room on my bus for this kind of baggage.


I wondered if I bit off more than I can chew....bigger and deeper questions begin spilling out.... What began as a trickle now feels like I'm being blasted by a fire hose.


I've spent the last week trying to assess to what degree my particular strain of "hypothyroidism" is caused or driven or exacerbated by self-induced anxiety. My own inability to sooth myself.


What portion of My Condition is down to the fact that I'm on NO meds? T3 acts like a filter I guess, very protective. I had ZERO protection. Maybe that's a good thing?

Removing the safety net has forced me to look at some sh*t.
What portion is down to the fact that I've never learned how to properly control aspects of my own nervous system? I know nothing about this stuff (obviously).
I've read that some people can learn to consciously control all kinds of stuff like heart rates, body temperature, blood pressure etc. Surely these are skills that can be LEARNED.

Wouldn't learning some skills in this area afford me some much needed protection and resilience? Wow, that question cut to my pseudo-osteoporotic bones. I've been to counseling/therapy hundreds and hundreds of times, obviously My Condition is a poor endorsement for "mental health professionals" everywhere. There's a REASON why psychotherapy doesn't work (at least for me) and I've learned it.

Why haven't I done this all-important protective self work yet? I'm like a child. Undeveloped....stunted, really.

Why haven't I taken the time to learn these skills?

Am I finally healthy enough to actually learn something new?

I know what Peat says about the prenatal stress environment etc., but what portion of My Condition was developed as self protective mechanism? Enter Lonerism.

Do I really need the meds I was after?

Do I even want them?

It has been a dream of mine to be completely medication free...Can I survive without them?

Do I truly want to stay self-protected?

Can a person really induce this kind of stress while pursuing something they love?

Does the pursuit of something you truly LOVE force healing?

I think it must.




...Complicate the matter
Playing on the weakness
Taking all of my time
I'll go down, with the ship
To the bottom like a stone

Falling off the ladder
Holy water hell hound
Folding like a jack knife
But the truth to myself
You know it cuts through the bone

Somebody, somebody, somebody come and open my eyes....


to be continued...

 

[denise]

SIDE NOTE: I've officially dubbed My Condition THRICE TARDED, it's a real condition. The definition of retarded being merely tarded twice, Thrice Tarded is a much more serious.

BTW, I think the term is tri-tarded.

Anyway, how horrible! I hope something good comes out of this. What a great (and frightening) lesson about the mind's ability to radically affect the body.

I recall reading on some other thread ages ago that you used to do lots of shrooms. Have you ever tried ayahuasca? From all I've read, if you want to get to the bottom of your ***t, that's an efficient and effective (if grueling) way to go about it.

 

[Simonsays]

Ohh BigP , you shouldnt have had to go through all that . To think he can get away with massaging a patient in the safety of his consulting room in 2016!! Like Blossom says, now many others?????

Your Endo sounds like a Narc. You dared to contradict him as well and probably know more than him. Ouch ! Triggered core shame!! He wasnt going to back down after that . Narc Rage!

No wonder you had such a reaction afterwards, anyone would, with such a shock to the system. Mind and body as one.

Youll recover your equilibrium. Youve been truly blindsided by a metaphorical bus, you didnt see coming! Dont beat yourself up, he did that on you already.

Just as an aside i had it out with my Narc father yesterday ( mega stress plus work issues, missed heartbeats like uncontrollable, sweats etc) and refused to answer all phone calls today from him, im in control......... today heartbeats normal no sweats....go figure

Ohh and my Endo told me, i dont have a functioning thyroid gland last December, no probes, no X rays, no, scans, just TSH, slightly high and antibodies.......still here though. My God thyroxine must be truly wonderful????

Ill have to ask him for an intensive calf test , next time i see him

 

[whodathunkit]

Peatowski, those are really good questions and if it makes you feel any better I've been going through almost exactly the same existential sh*t. All kinds of questions...why didn't I learn this coping stuff earlier, yada yada.

I definitely feel 'tarded, and have all my life. Although in my case may quadro-, quinto-, or even hexotard might be more appropriate than a paltry little ol' thricetard. :p See? Yer not doing so bad.

Outside stress definitely plays a part. If I had steady income right now I think I'd be doing pretty good. As it is the stress of being unemployed is finally catching up as funds get low. Point is I sympathize where you're at with that, too.

I think part of it is also time of life. While I'm more stable than I have been when younger but my health was worse, I can feel that my bod is changing and that it is somewhat destabilizing. I have amazingly, almost unreasonably good hours and then horrifically bad ones. I don't use the timeframe of days much because my mental state can vary widely within any 24-hour period. This lability slacked off for a while as I detoxed, but has been escalating past few weeks since I'm feeling more financial pressure. I feel the external pressure is the biggest key. And there isn't any cure for that. Even with optimal health we're all still human and if we've got that kind of external pressure over an extended period of time, it will wear on even a deeply-rooted ability to cope. Us multi-tards are the most vulnerable to it.

Even with out time of life and external pressures, IMO it sounds like you are still having some gut dysbiosis/endotoxin, and a lot of serotonin. As en experiment to see if this is a cause of what's going on with you, you might consider a more or less aggressive course of clean-up involving turpentine, pau d'arco (for candida), oil of oregano (for bacteria and yeast), and some abx if you can get your hands on them. I just used amoxicillin because I had on hand. If you have to order abx then maybe do some research on a Peaty course of drugs.

Plus some chelators like charcoal and modified citrus pection that will help bind endotoxin.

If you do this, then please also strongly consider simultaneous colonics and/or enemas to keep things cleaned out. It really helps minimize die-off and detox reactions, and as I said in a post above, coffee enemas can be a life-changing detox strategy. They're hell on candida, if nothing else. Especially with a few strategic drops of therapeutic grade essential oils thrown in. CE's have really helped me and I consider them in the top three things I've ever done to improve my health.

Then maybe some probies to offset the bacteria kill since abx and even oregano doesn't discriminate.

Gut-wise I'm doing pretty good since I started all this. I don't have bouts of IBS-D anymore. The gurglings and rumblings are non-existent. I feel better overall, although, as I said, there are good hours and bad hours. I shudder to think how much worse it would be, though, if I was unemployed like this without having a foundation of health. :nail-biting:

Good luck. And I'm sorry endo-douche was such a nozzle. It reminds me of something that happened to my grandmother...some new doc she went to told her she had beautiful breasts for a 75-year-old woman while he was doing a breast cancer exam. She never went back. Of course the jerk thought he was paying her a compliment, and I think your jerk thought he was, too. The fact that you obviously didn't respond positively to his "compliment' no doubt factored into his subsequent bullying of you as a patient. I wish you would consider @Blossom 's suggestion of lodging a complaint, but I can see why you wouldn't. It's a lot of trouble and is your word against his. But he does deserve some kind of swift kick in the 'nads, even if it's delivered by a lawyer or some advocacy agency.

 

[Blossom]

I hope you are not blaming yourself because you were violated in multiple ways. You were objectified, touched inappropriately and belittled just to name a few. I would be concerned if you did not have a deep visceral reaction to that treatment because it's just plain wrong. It's good that the situation triggered you to delve deeper though. The healing process brings a lot of stuff to the surface that we perhaps didn't have the energy to deal with before when we were more depleted IMO.
You might really need t3. It is used for 'treatment resistant depression' here in the US and you know it must work or the medical cartel (borrowed that term from someone here!) would shut that practice down in a heartbeat.
*Please be extra compassionate with yourself right now. You've done nothing wrong.*
ETA: I'm not insinuating that you are depressed either just pointing out the example of t3 being used in supposed normal thyroid people with out all the dire consequences that doctor was claiming.

 

[thebigpeatowski]

BTW, I think the term is tri-tarded.

Anyway, how horrible! I hope something good comes out of this. What a great (and frightening) lesson about the mind's ability to radically affect the body.

I recall reading on some other thread ages ago that you used to do lots of shrooms. Have you ever tried ayahuasca? From all I've read, if you want to get to the bottom of your ***t, that's an efficient and effective (if grueling) way to go about it.

Hi denise...It was traumatic indeed...brought up some ancient memories and made it very obvious that I definitely had more emotional baggage, but yeah LOTS of good has come out of a sh*tty situation. Even though I felt fine prior to the EndoDouche appointment, I actually feel even better now...like lighter, less burdened.

I'm physically recovered too. Sleep is fine, body temps are fine, blood pressure is lower and my digestion is back to normal. My guts had turned to concrete and simply stopped moving, very similar to what happened when I found out that my ex-husband had been having an affair years ago.

My heart rate is still lower than I'd like, but that's nothing new. The only time I can get my pulse in to the high 80's or low 90's is if I'm in a doctor's office!

My theory is that the intense stress triggered my guts to stop and then suddenly I wasn't clearing estrogen and making too much serotonin or something...but it felt like a leaky gut situation, just like how I feel if I eat the wrong food (only I hadn't) endotoxin and my brain gets poisoned...or maybe it's from a massive dump of stress hormones? Or both, I dunno, I making stuff up as usual.

This was away worse though, super magnified.


I did a lot of shrooms when I was a young person. I would LOVE to try ayahuasca, I watched a youtube vid on it once, but I think it makes you physically ill (like vomiting) and I'm not keen on that at all.

Thanks for the kind words.:)

Yours Truly, Tri-Tard