“Crazy-Awesome-Cool Story!” Stories of Hypothyroidism 2

I ducked into a local coffee shop (after finishing my shift at another coffee shop, go figure,) to get out of a lovely downpour that has left me soaked.  Thank goodness for Thai Chicken Curry to warm me up!

I guess this is a great opportunity to give you the second installment of “Stories of Hypothyroidism.”  Yesterday, I left you with a cliffhanger.   “GLO!  WHAT’S THE CRAZY-AWESOME-COOL story about how you got your thyroid figured out!?”

Calm down, I’ll tell you.  I will preface this with the disclaimer that I am convinced that this was a crazy-awesome-cool story aided by God.  But, you may read it as a bunch of crazy-random-happenstances if you must.

It starts with two phone calls.  The first was to the CMU counseling offices.  Things were starting to get worse.  I was cold all of the time, I was sleeping when I should have been studying, I didn’t want to be in any social situations (even people walking by me on the way to class made me nervous,) and I was down-right depressed.  I knew it was time to get something figured out.  So, I set an appointment for the day before Spring Break.  I never got to go to that appointment.

The second phone call, was from my friend, Erica, a couple of days before Spring Break.  Erica and I had led a Bible study together the year before.  “I have an extra spot on the Galveston trip, if you’d like to take it,” she said.  Now, I had been on a Spring Break missions trip every year since I was a Freshman in college, but this year I missed the sign up because I was in Thailand.   This one, in particular, was Hurricane Ike relief.  Maybe a trip would put me in a better state of mind, I thought, so I said yes.

Oh boy, was I wrong.  Not only was I terribly depressed and anxious the entire time, but my Grandma Olga died while I was there.  It was a double whammy of emotions, if there ever was one.  I remember sitting in the back of the 15 passenger van on the way home, crying my eyes out while everyone slept.  The saddest part was that I wasn’t thinking of my grandmother.  I was thinking about myself, and how terrible I felt.  However, no matter how much of a disaster, emotionally, that trip was, it served a very important role in this story.

It stopped me from going to my counseling appointment.

(Cliffhanger #2, gotcha!  Check back for the conclusion, tomorrow!)


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