Chronic into Gold

I have a disease.

(It sounds dramatic to say, but it’s my reality.)

I used to not share about this too much.

I used to not take it too seriously.

I appreciated a diagnosis. I was relieved to be given a definable reason for the way I was feeling and looking.

Hypothyroidism and Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis

A quick explanation of Hypothyroidism:

=Underproduction of thyroid hormones. The thyroid gland is part of the endocrine system that produces hormones that coordinate many of your body’s activities: they maintain the rate at which your body uses fats and carbohydrates, help control your body temperature, influence your heart rate, and help regulate the production of proteins. (Mayo Clinic)

=Since your body’s energy production requires certain amounts of thyroid hormones, a drop in hormone production leads to lower energy levels. (WebMD)

A quick definition of Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis:

=Autoimmune disorder where the body attacks thyroid tissue, which eventually dies and stops producing hormones. (WebMD)

Some of my main symptoms through the years:

Fatigue.	Thinning hair.	Depression.
Energy drain.	Weight gain.	Forgetfulness.
Difficult to “connect the dots.”	Trouble recalling words/terms/vocabulary.	Slow-processing.

When I was first diagnosed, I thought:

“Hmm. I have to take a pill a day for the rest of my life. Forever. Not great. But, I gotta do what I gotta do.”

I couldn’t truly understand the implications of what I was facing.

Until.

Big issues arose and crashed into my monotony of daily pill-taking. It has taken me several years to even reach the point where I am today in resolving the complications.

And now, with 7+ years of my diagnosis under my belt, I can recognize pretty clearly the severity of symptoms when my levels are off. BOOM.

I am in constant a battle with myself:

My desire for perfection and completion in my days

VS.

My extreme fatigue and oftentimes despair at my slowness of abilities.

My forgetfulness and fogginess of thought often result in mounting frustration with myself and the appearance of being “ditzy” that I often try to laugh off (but inwardly I loathe).

And add in 3 children. Boys. 6 and under.

Boys that are very young and very active and very needy…

(Although, this RARE image below of stillness and peace quiets my soul!) :)

My energy abilities and mental clarity is very obvious.

And both are suffering.

Daily life is the struggle.

…Let alone a hobby or anything to “show” for myself. Boo.

Gardening?

Nope. I wish I could.

Exercise?

Outside the daily running after kids? Ha.

Volunteering?                                                                

Not too much.

Cooking gourmet meals?                                              

Not right now.

Taking the kids to the pool in the afternoons?          

No way.

Scrapbooking, painting, drawing?                            

Not in this season...

Carrying out goals, like work on our basement?         

I wish. Someday?

Accomplishing these kinds of activities don’t even show up on my radar, until I learn of someone else’s accomplishments, and then I feel less-than.

This fight is something I’m attempting to be conscious of each day: 

The longing (even jealousy) of other’s natural amounts of energy and motivation and drive.

I have often thought: The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Sometime the spirit ain’t even willing. Then it’s just a losing battle!

I fake having energy. I pretend I have it. And sometimes that is convincing enough for my own self. And maybe even you.

Then I crash, exhausted at home. So worn down and weak and foggy. Yet I DO NOT want to stop my efforts to be OUT THERE and try.

With the recent help of a dear friend who is a fellow struggler in this daily journey, I am learning to:

Try to accept my limitations.

Try to give myself myself grace.

Try to give myself freedom to turn down social opportunities (when I used to try to accept all and do all).

I’ve continued to learn more. From websites, from doctors, from specialists, from fellow thyroid disease sufferers, from a facebook support-and-education group “Thyroid Sexy.” That helps. 

(I must acknowledge my amazing family doctor, Dr. Veltri. He listened to me at my very first appointment with him, back in 2007, when I couldn't stop crying, when I felt awful, when I was gaining crazy weight, when I couldn't get pregnant. When I was a MESS. And he immediately took a series of blood tests and provided me with the key to the mess going on inside me. And he has been faithfully dedicated to keeping me healthy and educated and balanced these past years. THANK YOU.)

I have learned things about myself through the years:

• Writing helps me remember what I hear so I can tangibly recall the words and meanings later.
• Writing helps me process so I can internalize what would otherwise evaporate outside of my memory. (This is why I write down so much in my journal or in notes to myself.) (This is why I can express my thought worlds better in writing that in words aloud.)

But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." Therefore, I will most gladly boast all the more about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may reside in me.

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

I am often emptied.

Yet needs abound. Responsibilities await.

“Your emptiness is but the preparation for your being filled,

and your casting down is but the making ready for lifting up.”

(Charles Spurgeon)

So please, give me grace (and grace for others and yourself, with visible or invisible chronic conditions).

Grace for:

• forgetfulness.
• absent-mindedness.
• being slow to connect the dots.
• desiring to be available, but the battle to follow through.
• anxiety to please others, but on a “low tank."
• impatience with declining abilities.
• sometimes being self-focused.

May I be compassionate to YOUR story and YOUR needs.

May God fill in the gaps where I am not enough.

When I am empty, Lord, fill me…

“The Lord longs to be gracious to you;

He rises to show you compassion.”

(Isaiah 30:18)

I desire for results, for an impact.

I desire to make each day count.

I love it when my pen flows, when my fingers fly on the keys.

BUT. It is not about ME.

I am a fragile-yet-sturdy piece of clay, being shaped and formed and gently crafted. Or also sometimes felt severely? I am a rock that will soon be revealed as gold.

"But He knows the way I take;

When He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold.”

(Job 23:10)

“How will you know when the gold is purified?

The refiner answered, “When I can see My face in it, it is pure.”

(Robert J. Morgan, “The Promise”)

Emptiness can be beautiful. Pain can be beautiful.

=

Leads you to recognize your need for strength.

=

Brings humility and the deepest grace.

=

Gives the gift of sweetest appreciation

for the seemingly mundane and ordinary joys.

You see,

Some days I feel light and airy and ready for action.

I APPRECIATE THIS WITH JOY.

But many other days I drag.

I am under my own burden of expectation.

I struggle against myself, my abilities, and the world around me that rushes so, that accomplishes much. That runs on a full fuel tank. That can follow through with intentions.

I am accepting (or am at least on my way to accepting!) that this is God’s plan for me.

His unexpected “gift” in this life of mine:

-To remind me of my need.

-To remind me of the joys that ARE the big deals. 

(Not the accomplishments of my day. But instead seeing the underlying blessings that are present, even when my mind is cloudy and weary.)

His gifts are everywhere.

And maybe, just maybe, my own journey of struggle and ongoing disease will allow me the opportunity to be a light to another who is on this similar path. That will make this worth it.  

“Every sorrow we taste will one day prove to be 
the best possible thing that could have happened.”

(Steve Estes, “When God Weeps”)

Until then?

One foot in front of the other. One day at a time.

And keep getting back up. Even on the hardest days. 

(And when down? Prayer. "It is hard to stumble when you're on your knees.")

Are you with me? With whatever load YOU are carrying. Whether physical or mental or emotional or circumstantial. Join me one minute at at time, and let's not give up hope.

Blessings as we continue on this journey of life,

Elizabeth