154 days

It's been approximately 154 days, six hours and forty- seven minutes since these shenanigans began.

I've had a CT of my head, more blood work than I can count, a tilt table test, a stress test, a Holter monitor, five visits to cardiology, two to the ER and one to endocrinology.

And no one knows what's wrong with me.

I want to scream until there's no air left.

I'd like to say that this surely means there's actually nothing wrong.

But I know there is.

I was hoping it was thyroid disease. Manageable, carry on with life, run of the mill, boring old thyroid disease. And today, when doctor #1 said my antibody count was over 400 (anything over 35 is diagnostic of thyroid disease), I thought I'd found my answer.

But doctor #2 said no. It was not thyroid disease.

Doctor #2 said the same thing all the others have said. 

"I don't know what's wrong with you; you're a medical mystery." 

(As though that would make me feel special. Or better.)

"I really don't know what's wrong with you." she said.

And when she said something to the effect of "rule out tumor" my head started spinning.


Let the screaming commence.