You know you live a strange life when you come away from the doctor happy that something might be wrong.
I saw my wonderful family doctor today. (I realize I have a tendency to say all of my doctors are great, but that is only because I've put a lot of effort into that--I firmly believe in team treatment and all 3 of my doctors treat as a team. The family doctor and my psychiatrist are fabulous with sharing; he calls her if needed and she always takes his calls. Etc. And if it helps at all I'm pretty mad at my psychologist right now). The title is the first thing he said to me. Anyway, it was neat because he'd talked to the nurse about me before I got there and said some nice things. I got complimented on my compliance and attention to detail and for a bipolar that's some good stuff.
Anyway, my thyroid, which was damaged in last year's lithium toxicity adventure, may be messed up again. I missed a lot of doses of replacement meds at the beginning of this episode and took a while to get back into managing it properly. He was able to feel enlargement, which is new. Thyroid issues would also explain many of my other problems that have been attributed to depression. Obviously it'd be a combination of the two, but if my thyroid levels are screwed up then in another 2 weeks I might actually have energy. I might even get to lose some weight.
I also finally got meds for constipation. I hate that route, but the colace alone isn't nearly enough and I can't go through life uncomfortable and unable to bend forward. I also learned that Splenda's off-label use is for constipation. Enough about that.
So, all in all, I learned that I'm a freakshow patient who the doctor remembers in insane detail because he's never seen anything quite like me. ("I've never seen anyone on 3000 mg Depakote who is, well, awake!" "And, I've never seen anyone on that much Seroquel". "Together, wow.")
That's me. Wow girl.