Receiving Grace Under Pressure

My thyroid is acting up again. No, I don't have the labs to back this information up (my endocrinologist recently left her practice, and I've yet to find a new one--again). But I know. I always know.

I have hyperthyroidism. When I tell people this, they get this kind of excited look in their eyes, and go, "Oh, that's the good kind, right?" Umm, no. It gives me headaches that can't be relieved. It makes me feel wired, like I've had 12 cups of coffee, even though I don't drink coffee or pretty much anything else with caffeine in it. It makes me irritable (OK, bitchy). I have trouble sleeping. I'm hungry all the time. And I cannot (possibly ever) get rid of the last 20 pounds, even though I work out and eat healthy pretty much all the time, because my body, in its infinite wisdom, recognizes that it's getting too much thyroid hormone and slows down my metabolism to compensate. This somewhat lessens my risk for a stroke or a heart attack (two risks with my disease), but it makes it difficult to look in the mirror on a daily basis.

But the reason I know it's acting up right now is the anxiety. It's a gut-wrenching, soul-grabbing, gripping anxiety that weighs me down and prevents me from focusing on anything that's actually important because I'm bogged down in worrying. Endlessly. It wakes me up in the middle of the night, the absolute worst time, and makes my insides churn. I shake and sweat, toss and turn, and I can't think one rational thought. I want to cry, but I can't. I don't tell anyone about the anxiety, not even my husband. The things I worry over are too petty. I fear that I'll seem like a silly little woman, blubbering over my tiny issues when there are real problems in the world. Hell, there are real problems in my own life.

So I pray. I pray for God to take this anxiety from me. And He responds. He says, "OK. Give it to me." And I pray some more that He'll take it. And He responds again. "OK. Give it to me." And I pray some more for Him to take it. And He responds once again: "Carey, give it to me. I've got it covered. You just have to let it go. I can't take it from you if you won't give it to me." But I can't. I simply don't know how to. It's not that I don't trust Him. I really do. I know He's got it covered. There are much greater things in my life that I could worry about, but I don't because I know God's got them covered, and it will all work out, and it will all be good. So when I start waking up in the middle of the night riddled with nonsensical worry, I know it's my thyroid pumping entirely too much of nearly every hormone into my system. And it sucks.

For whatever reason, my body grows nodules on my thyroid. So far, they've always been non-cancerous. But they are "hot," meaning they produce thyroid hormone over and above what my thyroid itself is producing. At this time, the amount is minimal. Eventually, I will probably have to have my thyroid removed either through surgery or radiation (probably radiation). My first endocrinologist wanted to do this the week she reached a diagnosis. I am not OK with this. In my opinion, it is simply trading one set of problems for another. Once my thyroid is removed, I will for the rest of my life have to artificially supply my body with thyroid hormone in order to function. And as changes occur in my life, everything from weight gains and losses to life events to menopause, we'll have to start over again figuring out the correct dosage to keep me functioning properly. And as anyone who has ever struggled with hypothyroidism knows, that is an ongoing challenge. One I will probably have to face one day, but I don't see any reason to face it just yet.

But other than removing my thryoid, there is no treatment for hyperthyroidism. However, I've found that I can keep my levels just above "normal" (rather than way above "normal") with a healthy diet and lots of exercise. There is no scientific proof of this. My endocrinologist simply smiles and gives me a look that says, "Whatever you say" whenever I mention it. But if I'm eating right and exercising, I can keep that anxiety at bay, and the lab work always shows I'm right (if I have labs drawn while I'm experiencing that gut-gripping anxiety, they show highly elevated thyroid levels every time).

I have been eating fairly well, but I've been up against insane work deadlines and haven't made it to the gym in two weeks. And it shows.

Yesterday God gave me the most incredible gift of grace. I woke up early, gripped with anxiety. I got up and got ready for church, still with the dreaded fist of fear churning in my stomach. During church, I barely heard the message, obsessed as I was with my petty problems. But I prayed for the problem to go away. I had been obsessing for several days over one thing, something not even significant enough to discuss here. But in an anxiety-induced state, even the most minor of issues seem enormous. This anxiety brings new meaning to the phrase, "making mountains out of molehills."

In church, I prayed for resolution to the minor issue so that my anxiety would go away, since I seem unable to hand it over. As I walked out of church, before I even stepped into the parking lot, I was literally handed the resolution to my problem. The anxiety left immediately and has not returned.

This morning, I still have the crazy work deadlines hanging over my head. But I went to the gym anyway. It's my way of thanking God for His gift of grace and promising Him to do everything I can to not allow the gripping fear to return. My body will not control me. I have been given the power to control it, and today I am thankful for that power.