Hashi Toyota Motorola, huh?

It says "Daddy's Little Angel" taken when she was six weeks old.

Ernest the Goober Child who is striking what I would call a televangelist pose.

Onward to our subject:


I can't help but laugh when people say "Huh?" to the name of this hashi thingie... It's called Motorola disease.  I mean Toyota Corolla?  Karate Giujitsu?  Lol, okay I'm a dork.

Down to business:

"Hashimoto’s is an immune problem not a thyroid problem. The immune system is destroying the gland, and that is the reason the thyroid is producing less hormone." Source

I need to reboot my immune system.  On one hand I'm relieved I can cover the symptoms daily by taking a pill.  On the other hand, I don't want a band aid.  I want this to be fixed!  Don't medicate my symptoms, fix my body so it don't have symptoms in the first place!

Kendall has, SURPRISINGLY, been very supportive of my decision to change up our eating habits.  Like I've said before, I cook and serve as much as I can from a natural approach meaning less top Tombstone pizza and more roast with veggies. (Note: I do carry an emergency bag of frozen burritos in the freezer.  Don't judge.)   However, I have taken it to a higher level of dedication and reform. 

My favorite 'good for you' blog on natural eating is Nourishing Kitchen.  It is the complete opposite of the SAD (Standard American Diet) and is downright dirty when the topic of McDonald's is approached.  This is where I get my recipes for bone marrow broth using dog bones and Kombucha.  I searched 'thyroid' and ten hits were on the first page. My favorite post concerning hypothyroidism is the one simply entitle Foods to Promote Thyroid Health.  Alrighty then.

The least, the very least, I can do is change my eatting habits.  I'm a firm believer that my midwife urging me to consume more protein during my pregnancy with Emma led me to gain little weight with her, thus I am below my starting weight.  Now if I could only lose Eleanor, Ernest, and Ethan's pregnancy weight...  That said, I'm ready to buckle down and take it to the next step.  No sugar and no coffee.  Gasp.  Lord help me.  Lord help my husband!

Day one went well.  It only went well because I ate a chocolate chip cookie on the way home from church and then realized it, mid bite!, that I was consuming said chocolate chip cookie so I threw it in the back to the two year old.  He has a great metabolism, let him eat it!  (For now.  We're doing a family eatting overhaul so even the kids are going to have to let up on the sweets.)  However, I skipped on the post-church coffee.  And today I added no sugar to my sun tea.  I rock!  Let's see how day three goes. 

A bump is a lump no matter how small

Oh you pesky health issues, be gone!

April 2011 I felt a bit of a lump on my throat while putting on my moisturizer.  I decided to have a full physical performed and specifically asked that my TSH (thyroid stuff) be checked.  After googling some pesky issues, and hearing some reassurance from a friend that it did indeed sound like thyroid problems, I was anxious to hear the results.  Sure enough, my level was at a 11 and it should be under a three.  My hair was falling and clogging my shower, I was very tired, and I couldn't seem to lose my Eleanor-baby-weight.  I had been thinking that I had these symptoms because Eleanor was five months old at the time and it was my hormones leveling out.  After the physical I was given a prescription for synthroid which is a synthetic version of TSH and I started to feel better again.  However, that pesky lump never did make its exit.  And then I became pregnant with Emma in May.

Skip to summer of 2012.  Emma is born, this lump has grown, it is tender, and I'm annoyed at its very presence in my body.  Lump, I'm so over you.  I made an online appointment with a random doctor instead of my family physician because I wanted to keep the two seperate.  Weird, I know, but it's my brains fault and I just follow through.  She recommended having an ultrasound and we were scheduled for the following week.  At my ultrasound, which took all of ten minutes, I could actually the doggone thing staring back at me.  Ewwwww!  I did not like the idea of a "random mass of cells" making its home in my neck, much less being able to view it.  It was also new feeling being in ultrasound without hearing a new itty-bitty heartbeat.

My thinking- "My ultrasound is on a Thursday.  I don't want the doc to call me until Monday.  Anytime before that is bad news." Well, she called Friday and scheduled a biopsy the following week. Great.

So how does one go about having a biopsy performed on your neck?  Good question.  The sweet ultrasound tech reassured me that it was painfree other than a stick of benzocaine.  (Or is it lidocaine? Novacaine? Whatever 'caine' it is, sign me up!)  I'd already gotten the scoop on how it all really feels from a friend that has this procedure done annually, God bless that woman.  She said her eyes water and her toes curled.  I was not looking forward to this.  Plus, in all of my wonder, I youtubed the procedure.  NEVER EVER EVER YOUTUBE MEDICAL PROCEDURES!

I kept the room light with jokes about usually seeing my uterus in this room and how the doc had better get this done right the first time because it's pretty hard to find a willing friend to watch all four kids for free, ha!  Anyway, numbed me up he did and boy howdy it was a lovely pain followed by "Nope, don't feel a thing!" And then he started the procedure....

I sang every song in my head that I could think of acompanied by mental visions of puppies, cupcakes, and chocolate bars.  Lord Jesus help my find my happy place ALMIGHTY!  "Did you feel that?"  As if the nail marks on the chair and the fact my toes are curled up into my butt don't give it away.  "Yes sir, I did.  It was...uncomfortable."  Ok so he dosed me up with some more numbing love and poked away.  Oh- the doc pokes your lump with a needle REPEATIVELY to fill it up with bad mojo's cells. Good grief.  Finally, he just went at it with five needle pokes and got it done.  I really do believe that it was the lump that didn't want to cooperate in this mess and I do not place blame at all on my radiologist.  It's not his fault my psycho neck cells have an attitude.