You Don’t Look Sick

 

One of my most recent trips to the doctor had me seated

next to a lady who was very pregnant. This isn’t

surprising for the OB’s office. However, this very

cheery lady proceeded to ask me how many

children I have. None. Then, was I just there for

a check up? No.

After her questioning and me explaining my

issues with PCOS and hypothyroid, she smiled

at me and said, “Well, you don’t look sick. At least

that’s something.” I know she was trying to be

nice, but I was irked.

Dealing with illnesses and issues like mine, I

hear that a lot. I see that my fellow sufferers

hear the same. It’s almost as if my illness isn’t

valid because I don’t look like I have an illness

all the time.

Nevermind the pain, the frustrations, the anemia,

being cold all the time, my hair falling out, the

swelling, the rashes, the depression, how I turn

into a crazy person if my hormones are off, the

weight gain, the insulin resistance, the heavy

prolonged menstrual cycles, the ovarian cysts,

high blood pressure, the heart palpitations, and

that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

My worst enemies seem to be the fatigue and

memory loss. I can sleep 10 plus hours and still

wake up tired. Small things that I should

remember are lost in the wind. Mentally, I can

feel great some days, but my body has no get up

and go. There are a lot of times where I take a

shower and have to rest afterward.

If I don’t get at least eight hours of sleep, I am

like a hungover zombie. I look about like one as

well. I make plans for weekends like I’m your

average adult only to come home from working

half a day on Saturday and sleep the afternoon

away.

Also, no matter if I’m on my feet all day or not,

they tend to swell. If it’s a bad night and my body

decides I need something new to be allergic to,

my lips swell. I end up looking like Will Smith in

Hitch.

All this has vastly improved since I started doing

low carb, and it’s a work in progress, but there

are still bad days. My hormones are adjusting to

my bit of weight loss. My husband never knows

if I’m going to be sweet or salty. I am like Forrest

Gump’s box of chocolate. You never know what

you’re going to get. Although I feel a lot better

most days, sometimes the hormones get the

jump on me.

My friend once described hormone issues like an

out of body experience. That was one of the

most resonating things I’ve ever heard in my

entire life. I can be just completely losing it,

and knowing I’m being crazy, and can do nothing

to stop it. I have to wait out the storm just like

my husband. He is usually great about it. He’s

seen the evolution of changes I’ve gone through

over the years.

I am an introvert and homebody. I’m happy with

work and home. I’m all about comfort zones.

Stepping out of them makes me a nervous,

anxiety riddled mess. If I’m home with my dogs

and a book, I’m am the happiest I can be.

Everything is right in my world.

For those of us who “don’t look sick,” please keep

those thoughts to yourself. I may not look like

the above photod today, and though you mean

well, sometimes it’s best to leave well enough

alone.

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