Who knew?

The Climber was overheard having a quick over-the-fence chat with Next-door-boy this morning.

Climber: "Who's that man on your roof?"
NDB: "The plumber"
Climber: "So does he just eat plums all day?"
NDB : "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

Did you hear that, Bronnie? Now you know what your partner really does for a living.

**********

You know that thing where you live with someone and your personal thermostats are very different? So for example in bed one of you requires the doona, pyjamas and possibly probably the electric blanket while the other one thinks a sheet is plenty. Or one of you likes the heater on in winter and the other one comes in the room and makes this weird blowing noise designed to show displeasure at the oven-like state of the loungeroom.

Or is that just Fixit and me?

Anyway, during the past few years, Fixit has started to refer to me as a snake. (NOT because of my scales. He likes them. Because of my inability to self-warm.) And neither of us questioned the anomaly of someone as fit as I am having such a hopeless metabolism.

But I found out yesterday I am not in fact a reptile. I have hypothyroidism which as soon as I started telling everyone in sight, including all my poor tap students last night, I discovered is actually pretty common, especially in women - including my mum. And maybe this explains why my hair looks so crappy (I thought that was neglect), why I always feel tired (I thought that was just how all parents felt) and this bloody unfair 5 kilos that won't go away. Not that I'm complaining about my weight I hasten to add! But I do 3 x 2 hours and 2 x 1 hour blocks of exercise minimum every week, and eat a balanced diet, so it just seemed a bit unfair to have this extra 5 kilos clinging on for dear life. Like, what more did I have to do, starve myself?

My Thyroid
Basically I see it like this. My thyroid ought to be like this busy little chimpanzee, absorbing iodine into my system and pumping out hormones to regulate my metabolism. But instead of a quick, clever, nimble monkey, I got a fat, sludgy, lazy hippopotamus and it's just wallowing at the base of my neck telling my poor pituitary gland, which was desperately pinging "get on with your job" messages at it, to Sod Off and Leave it Alone.

So as well as the daily aspirin for my weird blood disorder thing, I will also need to have a daily thyroid drug for the rest of my life, and I tells ya, taking 2 pills every night before I've even reached 40 is a bit depressing. Imagine the motherload I'm going to have to swallow when I'm nearly 80.

The good news is that unlike Fixit my cholesterol is okay. Which given the fact that he has no family history of high cholesterol whereas I do, might at first seem a little unfair. But if you'd ever seen the way Fixit eats cheese and chocolate you would know it was not.

Not my Thyroid