No appointment necessary

One month before we left for India I was diagnosed with Hyperthyroidism. Three weeks before we left I received confirmation that it is Grave's disease (I just hate that name), the autoimmune thyroid condition.  I had three weeks to pack up our apartment, our baby, my husband and see him off to India before I moved to Wisconsin with Oliver to stay with my parents until it was our turn to go.  Three weeks. Western medicine did not work.  I took a Beta Blocker for one week and felt even worse.  I was losing weight too fast, twelve pounds less than when I first got pregnant, and I couldn't stand for more than five minutes without getting dizzy.  My hair was falling out, my hands wouldn't stop shaking and on top of everything, I couldn't sleep.  That is fantastic when you have a six month old.  I was ragged.  Other pills suggested to me meant I could not nurse Oliver anymore; not an option.  I called my beloved acupuncturist, Liz, who has helped me with circulation issues, Ulcerative Colitis, headaches, fertility all with (obviously!) great success.  She treated me three times for the Graves.  Three!  I was given herbs to take and diligently swallowed my bitter medicine.  Yuck.  I was pissed, frankly.  What fantastic timing my body has!  Another Autoimmune disease?  Just put it on my list.  I went to treatments, took the herbs, silently cursed my body for turning on me and continued to pack.  No time to think, just time to DO. Slowly I noticed my hands stop shaking, my hair staying on my head where it belonged.  I was feeling ok.  Still tired, sleepless and underweight, but I could function. Liz sent me to India with three months of herbs so that I could get acclimated here and have time to find a new course of treatment.

So that's what I did today. And it was perhaps my most bizarre medical experience to date.

Everyone told me that for doctor recommendations I should talk to the head of school.  She has been here for twenty-five years and is very health-conscious, she would be able to help me.  I inquired about Ayurvedic medicine or an acupuncturist, but when she mentioned her success with her homeopathic doctor I decided that would be the option for me.  I had great success with a homeopath when I was in high school and college.  No treatment was more successful at calming my colitis.  I asked her where he was located and she drew me a map, "he's hard to find."  I asked for his number to make an appointment, "no appointment necessary, just show up!  If it looks busy, stick your head in the window and ask when you should come back."  Okaaaay.

Andy and Oliver escorted me to the doctor and Andy promised me a tasty dinner out for all my trouble.  Deal! When we turned a corner down a road I had never been down before I was so thankful for the map.  There was the store front...and there was the line out the door to see him.  I immediately became overwhelmed and did not want to stay.  Andy asked me why and all I could think of was "I'm scared."  This guy might not know any English, what if there is a complete lack of understanding and I get pills to treat something else?  People cut in front of me in line and I got more overwhelmed...I wanted to be anywhere but in that line with the coughing people.  But then, I got brave.  I feel really crappy and really tired and really upset about having to get treatment in this manner!  So I maneuvered my way in front of the last person to cut in front of me and worked my way into the smallest possible "treatment" office you could imagine.  Room for four people, standing...doctor included.  I watched him ask a young boy to stick out his tongue, then gave his mother some white pills and off they went sixty seconds later!  A husband and wife were next.  The doctor felt her neck and more white pills and then out the door!  My turn.  He actually pulled the curtain for me and told me to sit on a stool.  I explained my situation and he was shocked that I didn't bring my medical forms with me (oops!).  Why in my frantic mind did I forget those?  Did I subconsciously think they couldn't be translated?  This man spoke fantastic English and three minutes later I had two bottles of white pills, "From Germany!" labeled "Thyroid". I was told how to take them and that I should come back. I paid my 235 rupees (Just over four dollars!) and got shuffled out the door, a little dumbfounded over what just went down but also confident that this man will be able to help me even after the quickest intake and assessment ever.  The line wound down the street once I got out. I was thankful to be free of that small space.

I took my first doses after Oliver went to bed.  It feels like this crazy way of getting help for this crazy disease may just actually work. I will keep you posted.