I was at a specialist today, an endocrinologist. The reason being, I’ve been diagnosed with something called Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis. Basically my body is attacking my thyroid. Luckily it’s a pretty manageable thing, so I can continue to live a happy, comfortable life.
When this started, I decided to make a lot of positive changes to my life. I’d been drinking more wine than I’m really comfortable with for a while. I also was eating a lot of pre-made food, and not the healthiest pre-made food either. Also, I had a ridiculously stressed out mind all of the time, which I basically ended with a good self help book (Louise Hay’s You Can Heal Your Life), and meditation. I cut out all caffeine. I started working out. I started getting chiropractic, acupuncture, massage and reflexology regularly.
Anyway, I was feeling really awesome about all my positive changes. Pretty much high on life, and certain that it would help my condition. So today was my first visit to a “real” doctor since finding out I needed to go 2 months ago. It took 2 months to get in with this guy. In that time I’ve seen 4 different alternative health therapists, 8 times over.
In those two months, the therapists have been on time, ready and accomodating from the moment I’d walk in the door. They’re good listeners, their offices are warm and comfy, it’s super duper.
Today I sat in a stank-ass dirty, dated old office in a crappy chair, waiting for this doctor to enter, for an hour, while every 5 minutes the damn lights went out because they’re on a motion sensor, and I was being still as I was reading (The Help, it’s good!). When the doctor came in, he diagnosed me with something I already knew I had after talking to me for 10 minutes. Then he made me wear a paper thing and actually shoved his stethoscope down my bra at one point. I think he was listening to my boob. Can’t those things hear your heart over the bra material?
At the end of this appointment, I told him “I’ve made a lot of positive changes since this condition started. I cut out caffeine, stopped drinking, started working out…” As I’m saying this, he adamantly starts shaking his head. He cut’s me short “NO! Don’t do that!”. I say, “don’t do what? Drink?” he replies, “Don’t stop drinking and all that! It won’t do you ANY good. It’s not going to make any difference at all in your health, it’ll just make you feel better in your mind. It’s no use”. This advice, from a doctor.
You hear that folks? My doctor told me that although I have a disease, improving my diet and exercising is a waste of time! This joke wrote itself.