A Very Lucky Girl

I have mixed feelings about my visit to the endocrinologist on Tuesday afternoon. It was a concoction of good news and meh news. I learned I have lost weight, which I attribute to the fact that I physically cannot eat Pringles without Nat, although the mile walk to and from campus every morning may have something to do with it as well. According to the bloodwork, my thyroid levels are still doing well and though hypothyroidism or hyperthyroidism could arise at any time, now is not that time and I am thankful. I confessed some not-so-wise health decisions I made in Europe, earning a glare and a "we learned our lesson speech" from my doctor (who I LOVE by the way-she is the most thorough lady on the planet).  I have been really forgetful about taking my 2.5 mg hydrocortisone at night, pretty much since January, but I haven't been feeling any unfortunate effects from it. However, it does leave me with only 17.5 mg of hydrocortisone in my system daily, which is rather on t...

Confession: Sometimes I feel truly blessed to have Addison's Disease. For one, it's fairly manageable, and for two (the best reason), I have met some amazing people through this connection! I use "met" loosely because I have yet to physically meet any of these women, but they all sound so wonderful on social media! And I hope one day I can hug each one and compare drug prescriptions and medical alert jewelry while swapping ER stories. Alycia: I found Alycia on Instagram when I scrolled through the hashtag #addisonsdisease last year. After wading through endless pictures of dogs (fun fact: dogs get Addison's Disease and I swear the world knows more about the canine disorder than the human one. Nope, not bitter), I stumbled upon a picture of a race to raise awareness for Addison's Disease. Being a runner, I was instantly intrigued and decided to creepily comment and ask Alycia about it. She informed me that it was in Australia, where she lives, so that was a ...

I found a paper that I wrote last fall about Addison's Disease for my Modern Monsters writing class. I have a hard time describing or admitting to this autoimmune disorder. It's hard to see myself as less than perfect and not be able to change it. And it's especially difficult to let others see this weakness, as it's not easily understood.  I panted up the stairs, dragging the last of the suitcases, and wiping the Texas heat from my brow with “riff ram bah zoo, give ‘em hell TCU” emblazoned across my purple shirt. It was August 17, 2010, and this was move-in day. I had finally graduated that May and my parents were sending me off into the real world at Texas Christian University. I could not wait to start this independent portion of my life and lounged across my newly lofted bed in anticipation of my roommate’s arrival, rushing a sorority, and the first week of classes.  Fast-forward two months. I was a habitually messy roommate, initiated Alpha Delta Pi member, and...