My thyroid, a kitten and stranger strangers

Guys, the events of this past week have been a little weird.

I’ll start with my thyroid. Which is apparently something I should have done a while back.

A few weeks ago I noticed that it appeared I had a golf ball stuck in my throat. I did not remember trying to unsuccessfully eat a golf ball, so I sought out a few opinions and asked my husband, mother and boss “hey, this looks normal, right?” They all informed me that it did not look normal and I should probably seek medical attention.

Well, damn.

I really hate seeking medical attention. I prefer to Dr. Quinn my ailments at home with Vicks salve or some peroxide.

So, I told my three second opinions that I would definitely make a doctor’s appointment. Then I spent a day trying to Google a way to fix this with apple cider vinegar instead.

Despite how certain WebMD was that it was most definitely, without a doubt cancer, it seemed more likely I was just having thyroid issues. (“Yeah, thyroid cancer issues.” Shut up, WebMD.) Unfortunately, this was indeed a seek-medical-attention situation. An underachieving thyroid does not get fixed with ACV alone.

An exam, some blood work and an ultrasound later and it’s confirmed that my thyroid is a being a lazy jerk. More my words than theirs.

It’s actually not too big of a deal (and medicine should fix it), but I really wish it had consulted me before it went rogue and decided to cause EVERYTHING that’s wrong with me. Turns out, I get to blame it for (the short list) my constant exhaustion, a little bit of my anxiety, my brittle nails and dry hair, my Proactiv before-picture of a neck and the fact that I constantly look like I have smudged eyeliner despite me not remember wearing any since prom 1998.

It also explains why, since we started back to the gym, Justin has lost 16 pounds and I’ve lost two. Yeah, that’s fair.

It’s fine.

I also have to take my medicine on an empty stomach and can’t have coffee for a whole hour afterwards. My Keurig and I are basically Romeo and Juliet for that hour. I’m already not a morning person. This is borderline torture.

But it’s fine.

(Really, it is. I know other people have actual serious problems.)


Now, in other exciting news- we have a new cat! Her name is Khaleesi (aka Nibbles, Little Bit, Khal, Her Majesty and Please Stop!).


She’s friendly, I swear.

She magically appeared in our backyard (don’t worry, no one seems to be looking for her) and she and Justin are quite smitten with each other. I’m calling her his therapy cat. Brody and I also like her a lot, but she’s clearly chosen her person and it’s neither of us.

Our only issue is that we already have a queen cat around here, and while Daisy seems to have made her peace with the tiny calico monster, Khaleesi is less welcoming. I’m open to any tips on how to make your cats become friends. (That sentence sounded kind of sad.)

We definitely weren’t in the market for a new pet, but the day after she appeared I opened my agenda and the suggestion for that week was to adopt a pet, so here we are. It kind of seemed like the universe threw this cat our way, and I’m not going to question the cat-throwing of the universe.


However, I will question the universe continuing to throw strangers in our general direction. First it was the neighborhood children. Fine. But this time it was just completely random strangers. Not fine.

We had stopped to grab a drink at our favorite little local place and sit outside on the patio. Out of nowhere, an older couple we had never seen before appeared and asked to sit with us.

What?! Who?! Why?!

I really wanted to channel my inner Gretchen Weiners and scream, “You can’t sit with us!” but instead I said “sure” through a strained smile.

Again, they were perfectly nice people, but it’s been almost 48 hours and I’m still exhausted from making an hour of small talk. I’m not cut out for it.

I blame Justin for looking friendly. I’ve seen my own reflection before. It’s not my happy mug drawing people in.




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