I Think I’m Alive

I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. (Psalm 27:13)

I’ve never really felt this close to death before. I know intellectually that I am not going to die. But over the past few days, I’ve felt like I’ve got one foot in the grave. I guess I was a little overly optimistic going into my radioactive iodine treatment. I thought I’d take the pill, hang out in my room, and start feeling better as soon as I took that first synthroid pill. It’s been a little different than that.

I guess it makes sense to feel this terrible. Doctors have brought me as close to death as possible in order to kill any remaining cancer. My entire body was radiated for 2 days after spending 5 weeks without a thyroid and 2 surgeries before that. I guess that would make anyone feel a little crummy. But I think I was secretly hopeful that I would glide through this treatment into the picture of perfect health.

Instead, I sleep 12-14 hours a day. And when I’m awake the only things I can accomplish are: take a shower, brush teeth, eat, lay on the couch. The most basic things take astronomical energy. My mouth is dry and my saliva is thick (salivary glands also take up the radiation). Ironically, after 5 weeks of a basically salt-free diet, I have a continuously salty taste in my mouth. Immediately after my treatment, I enjoyed one meal of bliss. Which was awesome. Since then, I’ve been semi-nauseous off and on and my appetite has been slim. I was so worried about the 20 pounds I gained in Africa (which were awful, yes) but I’ve lost all of it and then some in the past weeks and months. I never thought I’d want to gain a little weight. My joints continue to ache but my hair seems to be falling out a little less.

I’ve been averaging about one emotional breakdown a day. Thank goodness I have a patient and loving mother. Depression is a symptom of hypothyroidism but I think it’s also an accumulation of months of struggle. It seems like I swing between being too tired to care, being angry, grieving, and attempting to hold onto hope.

There is a vague end in sight. My doctor told me “After 3 weeks on synthroid, you’ll feel better. After 6 weeks, you’ll feel normal.” Let’s hope it’s true. I’m also planning to receive some counsel for the emotional difficulty of this experience at my age.

I don’t write all of this because I want others to feel sorry for me. Or guilty because they’re healthy. In fact, I read a fantastic article about just that the other day. Read it here. You can always find someone worse off than you. But thank goodness God has an interest in every detail of our lives and a heart full of compassion, whether we’re dealing with cancer or wearing uncomfortable shoes that day.

Anyway, I write it for those of you who want to know how I’m really doing. And because it is easy to write vague entries that make me look strong and like the perfect, shining Christian through this dark trial. But I’m not. Right now, I feel like a shell of my former self. I know God will fill me in with better stuff in the long-run. But right now, it’s hard to wait. So pray for me. And pray that I would hang onto Psalm 27:13. I know I’m still in the land of the living, even if I don’t feel it. And I will see God’s goodness. My confidence waxes and wanes but He never does.