Normal, Sweet Normal

Great news from my lab tests this past week: For the first time in more than two years, my thyroid hormone levels are within normal ranges! I think my endocrinologist was just as excited as I was. She says this development is critical to my recovery because if hormone levels are normal, then body functions have a significantly better chance of being normal. Of course, the latter is not a given; I'll still need to get plenty of sleep, eat properly, exercise regularly, and manage my stressful environments closely. But all indications are that my health is improving. The eye pain has decreased for the last year, and my leg/foot swelling is less than it once was (but shoes still have a tight fit). My endo thinks the increase of pitting in the edema is a sign that the swelling is retracting--fingers crossed the eye protrusion eventually will reduce, too. And to top it all off, my weight and blood pressure have both decreased since earlier this year. Let's hope the "new normal" makes itself at home for quite a while!

The Dish on Domino's Gluten-Free

I finally ordered a Domino's pizza with a gluten-free crust tonight.

I'd been thinking about doing so ever since the company announced in early May that it was offering the option.  My three biggest reasons—scratch that—my only three reasons for hemming and hawing over actually placing an order were, in reverse order, the taste, the price, and the images ingrained in my brain of those two Domino's employees (from Tennessee?) who performed "unsanitary acts" on the food they prepared for delivery.

Portion of the Domino's box advertising the new gluten-free crust.

I was willing to stomach the taste, good or bad.  And the price, well, that's a double-edged sword but something that, in the end, I was willing to pay.  But that last reason...I just had to tell myself that there are some decent Domino's employees in this world.  Right?

The pizza arrived sliced in a nontraditional way, yielding nine pieces instead of eight slices.

The pizza came fairly quickly, well within the 30-minute time window I was promised.  Domino's only offers the gluten-free crust for its small, 10" pizzas.  Adding three toppings—pepperoni, mushrooms, and green peppers—the total came to $11.99 before the delivery charge, tax, and tip.  Perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise, then, that the first thing the driver said to me after greeting me was, "Boy, these gluten-free pizzas sure are expensive, huh?"  At least he's honest...

The gluten-free crust is crunchy, a little chewy, and lacks flavor.

You can see from the pictures above that the look of the crust is like that of a thin-crust pizza.  It's crispy like a thin-crust, too.  I think the gluten-free version, however, burns a little more quickly than a thin-crust.  And with that crispy initial bite come subsequent chewy bites.  That crunch and chew combination was something I hadn't really experienced before.

As for the actual taste, there wasn't much flavor.  It wasn't as bland as cardboard, nor was it quite like a "real" crust.  It kind of reminded me of the crust on those cheap $1 frozen pizzas at the grocery store (at least that's my assumption; I mean, how would I EVER know what those taste like...).  There were moments when it tasted sweet, but those were few and fleeting.  After a few bites, I kind of got used to it.  I would brush it off by saying, "But you don't eat pizza for the crust," except that's exactly why I ate this pizza.

All-in-all, it's worth a try if you're curious about the first major pizza chain offering a gluten-free crust.  Otherwise, save your money.  By the way, I should point out that even though the crust is a gluten-free crust, this product is nevertheless NOT recommended for people with Celiac Disease or strong gluten intolerances.  That's because the crust is handled in the same kitchens and using the same utensils as the regular crusts.  Thus, Domino's cannot guarantee that the crust actually will be free of gluten by the time it arrives at your door.  Still, for people with mild gluten sensitivities (I believe I fall in this category due to my Graves Disease) or beginning a gluten-free diet, this is a new option on the menu.

Greater Than Graves

I recently came across a pretty inspirational adventure.  A woman diagnosed with Graves Disease in 2010 decided to raise awareness of the disease by riding her bicycle.  So last year, she rode from Anchorage to San Francisco.  This year, three friends are continuing the ride by riding from Boston to San Francisco.

Check it out: Greater than Graves

As of today, they're somewhere near Erie, PA.  They left Boston on May 26, and they plan to reach San Fran by the end of July.  On the link above, you can check out where the riders are, their blog and pics along the way, and more info about the effort to raise awareness by raising money.  Contribute if you can.  We need to find answers to this incurable disease!

Here's to wishing the riders much safety and the campaign much success!

What a Difference a Year Makes

Today, June 1, was a quiet anniversary for me.  One year ago, I made one of the biggest moves in my young broadcasting career.  I quit.

The reason was simple: my body just couldn't take it anymore.  I was at the height of my Graves Disease. My eyes were puffy and watery.  My legs and feet were swollen to the size of footballs.  My metabolism was lethargic.  My energy was drained.  I needed to make a change, and after talking with my doctors and close loved ones, I knew leaving the stress of my job was step number one.

I was scared yet hopeful.  TV news was the only professional life I'd known for the previous decade.  I felt like stepping away was like taking a step back.  What good was all the hard work in becoming an anchor in market #23 if I was just going to give it up?

Turns out it was great.  The last year has been full of a level of happiness I hadn't seen or felt in a long time...since 2008, at least.  Since leaving the newsroom, I've made my health a priority.  I went to the Mayo Clinic in December, and they put me back on the right track.  With the help of my new endocrinologist in Richmond, I'm as close to normal as I've been since I was diagnosed (blood/hormone-wise).  My symptoms have stopped getting worse and, in some ways, have improved.  I'm eating better and exercising more.  And for those of you who don't know, I've decided to go back to school.

YOU are the best investment you can make, whether it's through happiness, health, education, or all of the above.  Like they say on the airplanes, when it comes time to use the oxygen mask, put yours on first before helping others.  It's not selfish.  What good are you if you can't give a friend your all?

I'd be remiss if I didn't say THANK YOU to my supportive family and friends who've been with me on this journey every step of the way.  I love each and every one of you.  Much appreciation and gratitude, too, to my former Charlotte employer–particularly Joe and Julie–for their understanding and kindness.

I'm in a wonderful place right now, and I know things will only get better.  Don't get me wrong — there are times when I miss reporting the news of the day.  But the best is yet to come, and I'm not looking back!

Going Gluten-free

So, here's the thing.  I think I'm going to try going on a gluten-free diet.  Well, maybe not entirely gluten-free.  I probably should start out with baby steps and gradually incorporate gluten-free foods into my diet.

Why, you may be asking?  The reason is that Graves Disease is an autoimmune disorder.  So is Celiac Disease, and those with Celiac must eat gluten-free foods in order to be healthy.  Admittedly this thinking is very elementary, and the logic may be tenuous at best.  After all, those with Celiac must go on a gluten-free diet is because, according to the National Institutes of Health, "Celiac [D]isease is a condition that damages the lining of the small intestine and prevents it from absorbing parts of food that are important for staying healthy.  The damage is due to a reaction to eating gluten, which is found in wheat, barley, rye, and possibly oats."

Unfortunately for my Graves Disease, doctors don't know what I can do or eat to reverse the effects of the symptoms.  Maybe that's because there's nothing I can do or eat to reverse the effects of the symptoms, or maybe that's because doctors have yet to make the link scientifically.  For some reason, a small part of me thinks it's the latter.  Regardless, I figure it can't hurt to give this a try.

If nothing else, this "project" will make me more aware and conscious of the kinds of food I eat on a daily basis.  Thankfully the switch will be made easier by food companies making more gluten-free products and grocery stores devoting aisles to those gluten-free products.  Hopefully, too, that means the taste difference isn't quite so noticeable as it was three years ago, when a friend and former coworker of mine had to go on a gluten-free diet because of Celiac Disease.

Have you tried incorporating gluten-free foods into your life?  How challenging has it been, and what has made it so?  Or do you think there are other things I could be doing instead of worrying how much wheat to eat?  ( <-- poet and didn't even know it!)

Where Do You See Yourself in Five Years?

You know Kenneth on "30 Rock," the TV show?  That was almost me.

Not the role, but the position of NBC Page.  Nine years ago, I applied to the prestigious NBC Page Program.  I made it to the final round, and I know exactly why they didn't offer me a position.  I didn't tell them what they wanted to hear.

About eight of us applicants were seated around a board room table (ala "The Apprentice"), and the question was, "Where do you see yourself in five years?"  One by one, people rattled off their answers.  "I want to be a TV reporter in a Top 50 market," said one.  "I will be an editor at the Today Show," said another.  "I will have earned my master's degree, married my college sweetheart, had our first child, and begun working as a field producer for Dateline."  Pretty specific.

My answer, however, was the black sheep in the room.  Instead of something so scripted and expected, I took a more philosophical approach.  "I don't know where I'll be, and I'd be foolish to pretend like I do," I said.  "But I hope wherever I am—whether it be a small-market anchor, a network production assistant, or a position in a completely unrelated field—I hope I act with purpose, stay true to my values, and avoid regret every step of the way."  I see now how that might've seemed like a dodgy response, but I'm pretty sure I was the only one in the room who genuinely meant every word he said.

2008 Dancing with the Albany Stars Champion
Never thought I'd win a Mirror Ball trophy!

I had reason to be so idealistic, too.  If you'd asked me five years earlier, my answer probably would have been that I was going to be applying to medical school, not the NBC Page Program.  And it certainly wouldn't have included experiences like running a commercial radio station in Charlottesville, Va.  Moreover, sitting in that board room high atop 30 Rock, I had no idea that a year later I would be graduating with honors from Columbia University.  Or that five years later I would be diagnosed with a life-altering, incurable autoimmune disease.

This applies to all of us.  I've come to learn that life isn't about how well we plan for the future so much as how we make the most of present opportunities (though, just because I realize this doesn't mean I practice it well).  We don't know what tomorrow might bring, but we all know what today has brought.  Sure, there's something to be said for having a direction to follow in our lives, and I'm not advocating that anyone wander aimlessly professionally or personally.  But asking someone their career goals, their motivations, and their interests is a different question than, "Where do you see yourself in five years?"  Think about it.  Why not just ask, "What are your career goals?  What are your motivations?  What interests you?"

Needless to say, you can probably tell I don't like the "five years" question.  In fact, I was asked a similarly phrased question in a recent interview, and my answer was akin to what you're reading here.  I started by explaining my career goals, motivations, and interests, then I admitted I couldn't say what the next five years would bring.  I stressed to the interviewer that I didn't mean it as an insult or criticism of her question, but rather it was the most honest answer I could give.  She kindly took me at my word.  Fortunately I got the position.

Face for Radio

Charlottesville, Va., 2006

When people find out I used to be a TV anchor, their immediate reaction invariably is, "Oh, so you're a celebrity."  That word always makes me cringe a little, probably because of the way Jersey Shore, the Kardashians, and other reality drivel have redefined that word for the worse.  Nevertheless, I did get recognized from time to time in the communities where I worked.  There was the time a cashier opened a register just for me, despite others having waited longer than I had (I was extremely embarrassed by this).  There was the time a schnockered woman wanted me to sign an autograph in a most unusual location (see picture) in front of several friends (again, embarrassing).  Perhaps my favorite: The time a precocious little girl saw me leaving Sam's Club right behind her.  She enthusiastically told the good news to her mother, who tersely dismissed her excitement with "Honey, he looks nothing like the TV news man, now get in the car!"

I say all this not to brag, but rather because I'm used to people looking at me, sometimes strangely.  Now, though, I'm getting stares for a different reason.

Previous posts on this blog have touched on the physical side effects of Graves Disease.  The one that I struggle with the most is my bulging eyes.  My eyes "bug out," bringing with it discomfort and sensitivity.  Aside from the constant tearing (that's "tear" as in cry, not rip) and need for eye drops—which may seem contradictory—there's a psychological impact, too.

I'm well aware of my eyes making my face look different.  People who know me probably don't notice it as much as strangers.  Or me.  But if you look at my face, something's off.  The Thyroid Eye Disease has caused my eyes to look big, seem asymmetrically placed, and appear to be protruding abnormally.  Actually that last part is not an appearance but a fact.  Regardless, it's enough of an abnormality for strangers to notice something is off when they first meet me.  Especially children.  It's not uncommon for a child in church to be smiling and looking around one minute, then in awe and fixated on my eyes the next.  One time, while waiting to get my hair cut, a child stared at me for about three minutes before saying, "Your face looks weird."  If only I had the wit of Art Linkletter or Bill Cosby at that moment.

Of course, there are all kinds of associations linking unusual appearance with diminished capacity or social inaptitude, but that might be where my own self-consciousness kicks in.  It's quite possible that people look at me for reasons other than the physical side effects of my Graves Disease.  Personally, I doubt that.  I try to ward off the unusual glances by squinting my eyes because that makes my eyes not look so big.  One-on-one conversations give me a hard time, though.  People are usually closer and can see my eyes better than if they were just passing on the street or in a hallway.  I've noticed that I tend to look away more when I'm talking with one person.  And if I see them looking in my eyes, I have a hard time staying focused on the topic of conversation.

Whether I'm right or wrong, I've accepted this as reality.  But I don't like it, and I don't know how to change it.  An ophthalmologist at the Mayo Clinic suggested I consider orbital decompression surgery.  I've never had surgery before, and what if something goes wrong?  I don't want my vision to be damaged over something superficial and cosmetic.  I'm (naively?) hoping that things will improve.  I'm hoping that with less stress, the right medication, a healthy diet, and appropriate exercise, many of these problems will dissipate despite what the literature says.  We'll see...

The Day I Met His Holiness the Dalai Lama

This is an excerpt about the time I met His Holiness the Dalai Lama from an essay I wrote recently. He was in Albany in the spring of 2009 on a promotional tour. Before his speech to a sold-out crowd, he met with a dozen or so reporters and photographers from the Capital District. It was an experience I'll never forget.

He seemed taller in person, and for someone who travels the world with such frequency at his age, I thought he was quite nimble. His Holiness the Dalai Lama was moving down a line of reporters, thanking them after a media briefing. His people urged him to hurry up--especially since he had talked with the reporters for nearly an hour instead of the allotted 30 minutes, pushing him even further behind schedule. But he insisted on greeting each one. Some asked for autographs, and amazingly he complied without having to stop moving. As he approached me, I held out my hand. That was when he stopped right in his tracks.

“You’re shaking,” he said with a laugh, as if to wonder if I were cold. In the fractions of a second that followed, my brain wanted to laugh with him or explain I was nervous to meet him. Instead, my mouth uttered five words that were difficult to tell even some of my closest friends.

“I have a thyroid disease,” I replied.

Indeed just about a month before, I was diagnosed with Graves’ Disease. It is an incurable, auto-immune disease that, for me, required radiation and a daily pill. I had lost 30 pounds in the four months prior to diagnosis--a byproduct of my speeding heart rate and metabolism. So was my trembling.

His Holiness immediately placed his palms over my throat, bowed his head, and appeared to say a meditation. After a few seconds, he was finished. Then he looked me in the eyes and said, “Be happy.” Just moments before, he had told us reporters that happiness is the purpose of our lives; however, 18 months would pass before I understood what he meant.

Battle of the Eye Pain

The last two days have been somewhat unusual for me. It’s as though my eyes have challenged each other in a duel to see which can cause me more pain. Wednesday my right eye won--a rare feat. Today, my left eye returned to dominance.

The feeling of hurt is indescribable. At times the sensation is like someone poking the edge of a book into the top or back of my eyes. Other times it seems like my eyes are so dried out they doesn’t want to move. Then there are times when the pain is dull but constant. All the while tears constantly form, a sign my eyes are desperately trying to provide the only comfort they know how. It doesn’t help much anymore. I use eye drops, but my eyes protrude so much that the drops mostly roll right down my cheeks. Sometimes I close my eyelids--as best I can--but that’s also no cure.

The good news is this usually only lasts a few hours at the start the day. I figure my eyes are drying out at night, and it takes that much time of tears, drops, and blinking to return the eyes to comfortability. By the end of the day, I’m usually no longer in pain. But I always carry tissues around with me to wipe up the excess tears. It’s a reminder that while much of the pain is gone, the problem is not.

The better news is that this kind of sharp pain was much more common than it is now. A year ago, this was happening on a daily basis. Today, it happens once every week or two (although the discomfort is constant), which is why I say that having two consecutive days of intense eye pain is unusual. I don't know why things have gotten better in the last year -- or worse in the last couple of days.

Once in a while, though, I will have absolutely no pain or discomfort problems with my eyes while I sleep, during the morning, or throughout the day. I try to make a note of what I ate, how much I slept, how much water I drank, the stress I felt, etc., in hopes of repeating whatever I did to make it go away for that brief amount of time. Unfortunately it seems like there’s no rhyme or reason to when those days come and go. I guess it’s just luck.

You can see below that I've posted four images with this post. These are how my eyes looked on Wednesday morning. The first image is how my eyes now naturally look thanks to Thyroid Eye Disease (or Graves ophthalmopathy). No, I'm not trying to look surprised or open my eyelids wide. When I took this picture, I felt like my eyes were "normal" or relaxed, probably the way you feel now. Obviously, they look much different. The second picture is how I try to squint my left eye (on the right side of the picture) to make the protrusion less noticeable. It's not perfect, but an improvement. The third picture is how my eyes look with glasses on. The fourth is how I try to hide the protrusion while wearing glasses. Again, it's not perfect, but it helps.

Nevertheless, you can see how puffy my eyes are -- that's from the buildup of fatty deposits and inflamed muscle behind my eyes. If I go through with the orbital decompression surgery (and every day I lean a little more in that direction), they'll shave away parts of my skull to create more room for the eye and inflamed tissue. You can also see how exposed my eyes are and how red and dried out than can become. You can see why from just an aesthetic perspective why I had to take a break from anchoring and reporting. Who wants to see this on the news? Of course, there were other reasons related to my Graves Disease to stop working, but this is the most visual.

Eyes Wide Shut

My brother says it freaks him out a little bit, and rightly so. When I sleep at night, my eyes can't close all the way. There have been times when he's said he didn't know if I was asleep or awake. And he's not the only one.

As I've mentioned before, some Graves Disease patients develop an associated problem called Thyroid Eye Disease (actually, I think the technical name is Graves ophthalmopathy). I am one of those patients. Basically it works like this: My immune system makes antibodies that, for reasons unknown to doctors, attack certain tissues in my body. Those tissues include the thyroid, as well as around the eyes and the lower leg/foot (called Graves dermopathy). Specifically, the antibodies target fibroblasts, which can differentiate into fatty, collagen-like cells. These expand, and the muscles become inflamed. The eye's natural ability to drain fluids becomes challenged, and swelling occurs.

This is why if you ever look closely at my face, you'll notice swelling of the area around my eyes. The swelling causes my eyes to bulge or protrude from my face, such that the upper eyelids retract, and I sometimes look like I'm surprised. Since more of my eyes are exposed, they dry out more quickly and appear red. It also explains why I'm constantly wiping my eyes, as well as putting in drops. My body tries to produce more tears to keep the eyes moist, but that's often not enough. Also because of the bulging, I'm much more sensitive to bright lights, wind, heat, and cold.

You may be thinking at this point, "That's unfortunate, but what does this have to do with your sleeping?" Put simply, because the swelling is pushing my eyeball further out of the socket, my eyelids--which are only so long--can't fully close at night. If I try really hard, I can close the lids on my left eye. But who can maintain that when they sleep? Not me, and I end up with an eye that closes about 90-95%.

Perhaps that doesn't sound like a big problem, but even the smallest bit makes a difference. Without fully closed eyelids to keep in the moisture, my left eye (which protrudes more than my right) has a tendency to get really dry. In fact, I wake up at least three times every night because the pain of a dry eye is so sharp. I have eye drops on my nightstand, but that's only a temporary relief. Sometimes, if my body is so tired that it tries to ignore the pain, I'll wake up with big tears streaming down my face because my body's doing everything it can to prevent my eye from drying out. It's been at least 18 months since I've slept through the night without waking up because of this. And as I implied above, this is just as much an issue during the day when I'm awake.

The good news is the problem is less painful when I'm less stressed. Since leaving work in June 2011, I've had no more than three or four nights when the pain was so intense I started crying on top of the crying my eyes needed to stay lubricated. Before that, I had three or four of those nights...per week. In addition to that, I've started drinking more water and taking selenium supplements, as suggested by the ophthalmologist at the Mayo Clinic. Both are helping.

The bad news is that the "damage" that's done is likely permanent. The swelling may go down slightly over time, but all my doctors have said that what's done is done. There is a surgical option to reduce the swelling. That's actually a fiction, though, because doctors don't actually remove the swollen, fatty tissue. Instead, they shave away some of the bone in my skull to create essentially a bigger eye socket. That gives my eye and its associated inflammation more room to settle in, thus reducing some of the proptosis (bulging). While this may be inevitable for me, I'm not crazy about the idea as of today. I've never had surgery, I don't know if insurance covers it, recovery would last a week followed by temporary double vision, and I keep wondering what happens if there's a complication.

So there's a look into my eyes. I guess you could call them a window to my Graves Disease. Gives new meaning to the idea of sleeping with one eye open, huh? I actually do!

Mighty Mayo Medicine

My recent trip to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, was wonderful. The doctors there gave me more insight into Graves Disease than any of my previous doctors, and they had more ideas on treatment options than any of my previous doctors. Unfortunately, despite Mayo's ongoing research into the disease, the true cause is a mystery. Alas, there is no cure.

Apparently underneath it all, I'm becoming a gremlin inside. At least that's one way of describing what the disease is doing to me. You see, I'm one of the "special" cases that, in addition to an overactive thyroid, also developed Thyroid Eye Disease and Graves dermopathy. From what I understand, most Graves Disease patients stop at an overactive thyroid. Some develop TED, but only a small percentage of those go on to develop the dermopathy. Basically my immune system is attacking certain tissues in my body. Doctors aren't sure why, but the thyroid, the tissue behind the eyes, and the tissue in my lower legs/ankles/feet are particularly susceptible. It explains why my eyes are protruding so much and why my legs and feet are so swollen. In fact, when the dermatologist did a biopsy of the tissue on my leg, what he discovered was (sorry for the queazy ones out there) a gooey mess below the skin. Somehow, the antibody attack on that tissue causes a mucous-like secretion that swells in my lower extremities. I kid you not, it looked like something out of a gremlin cocoon.

This condition is so unusual that the Mayo doctors had most of their residents and consultants visit me to see and feel what those symptoms entail. At one point, my dermatologist asked if I'd be OK with some of the other dermatologists coming in to see the dermopathy on my feet and shins and physically touch it. I agreed. I was under the impression three or four my stop by. Actually 12-15 came through. I felt like a side show at the circus! But I understood the importance of doctors being able to see the real thing rather than just read about it and see pictures. I was glad I could provide them that.

The good news out of all this is that the doctors think I'm past the worst of the symptoms. My eyes might get a little more bulgy and my legs/feet might swell a little bit more, but the worst has already hit...or so they believe. The bad news is that that doesn't mean everything should or will go back to "normal." I was advised several times to take note of my body's "new normal." There are various treatment options for the different symptoms, ranging from a vitamin supplement to a chemotherapy treatment and even surgery. I plan on taking the next several months to see what option(s) is (are) best for me--and what insurance will cover!

What impressed me the most about Mayo was the collaboration among the doctors. My only scheduled appointment was with an endocrinologist, but he arranged for me to see an ophthalmologist and a dermatologist within 24 hours. They all shared access to my information. The ophthalmologist talked about Mayo's ongoing research into Graves Disease, as well as the latest European studies, while the dermatologist brought in other dermatologists and consultants to brainstorm treatment ideas. This experience was a shining example of how health care can and should be: Doctors working together for the wellbeing of the patient. I felt as though I was going from team member to team member for their expertise, rather than being handed off from one doctor to the next for the sake of convenience. And these doctors actually communicated with each other! All of this affirmed my decision to pursue an appointment at Mayo. I would highly recommend anyone with medical questions to do the same.

Remember the Warning

I've been sick the last five days with a lingering head cold. I don't get sick like this often, and when I do, it doesn't usually last this long. I can thank Graves Disease for that. Sort of.

With all the sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, congestion, stuffy head, and slight fever, I went to the closest pharmacy to get the medicine that promises to treat all that and get me through the day without making me drowsy. Sitting down to take my first dose, I looked at the drug information to make sure I was taking the appropriate amount. That's when I discovered I shouldn't be taking this medicine at all!

The side of the box includes a warning for people with thyroid diseases. Apparently the problem is an ingredient that raises your blood pressure. One of the symptoms of Graves--and hyperthyroidism--is an increased heart rate. Add a stimulant to that, and the result could be...well, not good.

The good news is that since my treatment with radioactive iodine, I'm now considered hypothyroid (though I'm still an active Graves Disease patient; more on that in another post). Still, I didn't want to take any chances. I foolishly thought I could let the cold run its course in a day. That didn't work. Then I loaded up on zinc and vitamin C, as well as the nighttime version of the medicine I'd already bought (since it'll make you drowsy, it doesn't have the stimulant the daytime version has). Within a day-and-a-half, I was about 75 percent back to normal.

Fortunately all wasn't lost with the 32 DayQuil LiquiCaps I bought but couldn't take. I gave some to a friend who also has been dealing with the cold. I guess if I can't heal myself, I'd like to heal someone else. The biggest lesson through all this, though, is that I need to read warning labels carefully!

Soup for the Substantiated Soul

He came out of nowhere. A friend suddenly appeared while I waited in line for soup. What happened next will stay with me for the rest of my life.

"So, I'm guessing in a past life you were a news anchor," he said sheepishly.

"Yeah," I replied. He and I had recently added each other as friends on Facebook, and he saw some pictures of me on the anchor desk and reporting on location. Apparently he didn't think they were pictures of me at first. Instead, he thought they were pictures of somebody closely resembling me, and I was living vicariously through said somebody. His girlfriend told him the pictures were of me, but even my reply wasn't enough to convince him.

"Then why do you look so different?" he asked with doubt.

Something in me changed at that moment. I wasn't mad or offended. Actually, I felt slightly vindicated.

I was diagnosed with Graves Disease in early 2009 and initially treated with radioactive iodine, which left me with very little of my thyroid. For about a year afterward, everything was fine. In the summer of 2010, however, complications began developing. By winter, my eyes protruded so much they couldn't fully close at night, I was gaining weight, my lower legs developed a rashy feel to them, my ankles/feet would swell to the size of softballs, my face appeared puffy, I had intermittent abdominal pangs, my eyes were overly sensitive to wind/cold/sun, my vision began to blur slightly, and my energy level and motivation was lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut. I knew I had to make a decision, and after talking with my doctors and my family, I knew that I needed to take some time away from work. What used to be a job I loved was more physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting than anything I'd ever experienced before--even NYS Police Academy training! The stress was multiplied a hundred-fold, and even if it wasn't the direct cause, it wasn't a solution either.

My bosses could not have been more understanding. They were very patient with me about the whole process, and so many of my friends and coworkers were equally supportive. Even some complete strangers. But I couldn't help but wonder--in the back of my mind--were there doubters? Were there people who felt I wasn't really sick and that I was looking for an easy way out? After all, who's heard of Graves Disease, much less knows what it really involves? Even my lawyer at the time brought it up at one point: "I'm assuming you're not lying to me, and if we needed to get a letter from your doctors, they'd tell me exactly what you just told me."

That's why, in some ways, I'm glad about today's exchange during the lunch hour. It was like an acknowledgement that I'm different now than I was before, and there's a reason why I left my job. Of course, I knew that and so did my loved ones, so why should it matter? Good question. Maybe it didn't. But either way, I appreciated the sense of closure it seemingly brought.

By the way, in case you're wondering, I answered his question by explaining that I had a thyroid disease that was altering me physically (I just can't lie about it when asked, not even to the Dalai Lama, but that's another story for another day). He felt bad, despite my best efforts to assure him otherwise. Fortunately we still smiled when we went our separate ways...no hard feelings. And, if you're wondering about the soup I ordered: A tomato-based vegetable soup with beef.