Cat pee and cups of tea

I arrived home at 10pm on a Thursday after a quick two day trip to Russell in memory of my granddads passing. I ran a bath, made a cup of tea, sat aimlessly on the couch staring at a picture on the wall, stood in the kitchen for a moment wondering how to get food in my body without having to eat, then I went to my room. I petted my cat and went to put my hot wheat bag in the bed so it was warm when I got in. There, in the middle of the bed was a pee stain. A cat pee stain. I looked at the bed, I looked at Charlie, he looked back at me, I looked back at the bed. Right. I’m not sure what most people do when they’re emotional exhausted and find their cat peed in their bed, but I laughed. Charlie meowed. I laughed a bit more and looked at him and said, “yep, I know what you mean”. I have no idea what he meant. He’s a cat, he probably just meant he wanted food. But I’ll take it as a sorry. So the sheets are in the wash, including the waterproof mattress cover which is apparently not also cat-pee-proof and I’ve remade my bed. Of course he also got the duvet so that’s tomorrows job. I pulled out another one of my many and put that on my bed instead. The problem I faced with remaking the bed however, is every bed in this house is a double and mine is a queen…so fitting sheets on it is similar to me trying to fit back into my size six jeans after France.

So, here I am in my bath with my cup of tea, well the second cup, the first cup ended up cold and with floating bits of cat fur in it, balancing my laptop precariously on the edge of the bath because I’ve concluded this is my only quiet ‘me’ spot…it’s even safe from the cat.

Tomorrow, Friday, is all about bridal shower planning. I’m super excited but also rather dubious as to how I am going to make a paper mache in one day…guess it’s time to get out the hair dryer! I’m also rather frightened I might poison all the guests with cake as I haven’t made a normal cake in years and as I can’t taste it, well….you can imagine how that might end.

Never the less I am alive, I went for a run today and only nearly died, and I have tea, and a bath, and a clean bed.

Deep breaths, tomorrow is a new day.


Another year older and a little bit wiser…sometimes

My butt is incredibly sore today. It’s a rather interesting way to end a birthday, but turns out sitting on it meant it needed massaging. And that hurt. But I think it’s going to be ok. With my flitting around the world this year it doesn’t quite feel time for my birthday to have come around again or that it’s been a year since granddad passed away. Charlie the cat is as weird as ever but he’s come around to sleeping on my bed and even thinks it’s fun to wake me up by standing on my head in the night. I spent the morning with mum at a spa for a detox treatment and I feel suitably loved and detoxed and filled with healthy chocolate. What on earth would the world do without chocolate?

The spa we went to gave me a little pink flower pot plant so I now have three living things that rely on me! I’m rather determined to keep it alive…the plant that is. I’m hoping the cat and horse can look after themselves a little because let’s be honest, I’m not actually that good at keeping even myself alive. But I’ve managed 22 years so that’s got to count for something!

I wanted to do a big post about how much has changed over the past year but sometimes there just aren’t words for things so here is a super brief recap:

I lost granddad, I brought a horse and sold a horse, Ivy had a baby horse and I sold him, I ran away overseas and travelled to nine countries in four months and absolutely loved it and learnt a bunch of life lessons, and I went from a four year relationship to single, I ended up with a cat. And here we are!

When I was a kid I always thought: “When I get to 21, life will be good”. I have no idea why it was 21, but I seemed to think life would stop there. I thought I’d have a car, a horse, a house, a job, and a degree and I’d be set for life. I have all that sure, but it’s nothing like I pictured and life is certainly not stopping here. I must chuckle at my much younger self and think, “Man, what am I going to think in another 10 years? Will I look back on my current self and think ‘how naive, if only you’d known’.” Yep, probably. But what I have come to realise is life never happens how you expect and even when it comes close to it, the feeling may be nothing like the one you’d anticipated. Walking away from my relationship was one of the hardest things to do. I wanted to fight, I wanted it to work. But I also hate giving up and sometimes I don’t know when to quit. Perhaps it was time to do so or perhaps I’m just stronger than I was four years ago, but I’m really quite ok. I’m sad in moments and angry in others but after losing people, seeing suffering in all parts of the world including my own, and having been diagnosed with a life altering health issue I feel like a break up is a mountain I’m well equipped to climb and with the support I have, there is absolutely no reason I won’t make a quick journey over the other side.

Anyway, instead of rambling on about all the changes I decided I’d instead write a list of all the things I’m grateful for in my life.

  • Amazing friends I’m not sure I’d be ok without
  • The chance to have worked at a great paper and have more experience under my belt than I ever imagined in my first 18 months of work.
  • A really cool, easy horse who is the bees knees
  • A not-so-cuddly cat who’s a bit weird but I like him.
  • Parents who are going to have to put up with my being at home a lot for the next few months
  • New work and volunteer opportunities
  • A body that functions properly 90 per cent of the time
  • A bed all to myself
  • Chocolate
  • The ability to travel the world on my own and all the incredible things I’ve learnt

I’d go on, but that’s the gist of it. In the past few months life has become an incredibly interesting and slightly frightening place to navigate. I spent several days standing on the top of mountains screaming “I’M ALIVE”, I spent days dragging a 20kg bag around with me, I’ve walked more miles than I ever thought was possible in four months, I’ve faced some of my biggest fears, I’ve eaten scorpions, I’ve seen suffering and heartbreak, and I’ve had the chance to change my world view.

Now I’m here and in my 22nd year I’m excited about what’s going to happen now. There are so many paths and picking the ‘right’ one seems scary, but it’s just taking that first step. And I’ll take it. Once I do, there won’t be any stopping me! For now the ‘to do’ list simply has one thing: keep climbing mountains and I mean that both figuratively and literally.

Tomorrow I’m heading up north with dad to celebrate the first year anniversary of granddad passing away. It’s a chance for me to revisit places Alex and I spent a lot of time and accept that’s part of the past, and it’s a chance to grieve but also acknowledge just how amazing granddad was and how mum we miss him, but also how ok we’re going to be.

So on that note, I’m going to leave this post with a bunch of quotes I found on this blog:

“It’s better to have nobody than someone who is half there, or who doesn’t want to be there.”
Angelina Jolie

“You can tell so much about a person by the way they leave you.”
Redvers Bailey

“I will not be your sometimes.”
Anonymous, Six Word Stories

“The hours between 12 AM and 6 AM have a funny habit of making you feel like you’re either on top of the world or under it.”

“I crave space. It charges my batteries. It helps me breathe. Being around people can be so exhausting, because most of them love to take and barely know how to give. Except for a rare few.”
Katie Kacvinsky

“The moment you feel like you have to prove your worth to someone is the moment to absolutely and utterly walk away.”
Alysia Harris

“Give yourself permission to immediately walk away from anything that gives you bad vibes. There is no need to explain or make sense of it. Just trust what you feel.”
Sonia Chuquette

“Nothing ever happens how you imagine it will.”
John Green

“Suddenly you’re 21 and you’re screaming along in the car to all the songs you listened to when you were sad in middle school and everything is different but everything is good.”

“There had been too much emotion, too much damage, too much everything.”
Ernest Hemingway

“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but building the new.”

“If you don’t make time to work on creating the life you want, you’re eventually going to be forced to spend a LOT of time dealing with a life you DON’T want.”
Kevin Ngo

“We can judge our progress by the courage of our questions and the depth of our answers, our willingness to embrace what is true rather than what feels good.”
Carl Sagan

So just remember life is beautiful even when it feels like you’ve been sat on by a bus or a large horse. Always take a moment before you decided to get back up off the ground because the sky is pretty damn beautiful. If you’ve fallen face down though that doesn’t really apply, sometimes mud can be good for your skin. Just remember that. And if you’re lonely, get a cat…they’re remarkably uncomplicated, even the strange ones.

Now here’s a song.

Big open spaces

It was 11.37pm on November 1 when I finally changed my relationship status on Facebook. It might not seem like much but it was the last little moment of control. My room currently has boxes pilled in corners, blankets strewn everywhere, the horse float still has a few boxes and giant teddy bear, and I’m yet to attempt to unpack the biggest clothes box because my wardrobe is already full. In the past year I’ve cleaned out four large cardboard boxes of clothes and goodness knows how much other crap. But putting all my farm clothes, the ones I have absolutely no use for anywhere else in my life, in a bag ready for the second hand store, was it. That was the moment of certainty; this is my new life. I get to have a manicure, I can wear heals on the weekends, I can go out with my friends whenever I want, no more driving an hour every week. And it all seemed like small sacrifices but now without them, it suddenly feels like a huge weight has gone and I almost feel guilty about that. But I’m not one to wallow, ok well kind of, I wallow in epic amounts of sarcasm and dry, bitter humour, but in general I don’t like to dwell on things I can’t change. So I make the most of them.

It seems strange to reduce my life down to one room. Not two houses, just one room. My room. This is it. All of my things crammed into one space. I’d usually say all my life crammed into one space but it’s not what defines my life, far from it. I might be back in the same place in the same situation I was five years ago, but that’s not what my life amounts to. Part of me doesn’t want to unpack because I know I could well be moving again in a few months once I make up my mind of what I’m doing, but I can’t do that. I need to make somewhere home for now and this is it. I’m going through it all slowly and throwing out anything I don’t want. Nothing stays if it’s not wanted or needed and that in itself is therapeutic.

So far my plan of action has been to throw out any underwear that doesn’t make me feel comfortable and sexy. I put my pillow in the middle of the bed because I can have whatever side I want. I’ve cut my hair how I want it. I’ve worn heals out to lunch because I could. And I’ve taught the cat he can sleep on my bed. That in itself is a big deal, he refused to sleep on the bed until I moved him here…it’s our new start and we can be weird together. He still wont come out of the room for more than a few moments, and I get it, if I could I probably would hide in here too and sleep all day with him. Tomorrow I get Ivy back and she’s moving just up the road so even though there won’t be any riding for a while (thanks tailbone), I plan on taking her around the property and for big wanders on the lead because I have the time and there’s nothing quite like horse cuddles to make the world a better place.

I have some pretty cool friends and family who celebrated my birthday with me today. Only two more days until my actual birthday day! I’m feeling good. The beach looks amazing, I have my wardrobe back after four months living out of a suitcase, I have my bed all to myself, I have incredible people around me, I’m getting fit and heathy again after rather interesting food choices. It’s good, and I’m not just saying that to make myself believe it, I really am. I’m still angry sometimes, I’m still hurt a lot of the time, but I’m happy and I’m at peace. What more could you ask for really?

So week two of my return home begins. These next six weeks will be all about weddings for friends and brain storming where to next. And just like Charlie is terrified when he has big open spaces in front of him, I’m daunted and unsure what to do with all mine.

Until I know I’m just going to run around it like a crazy person on the loose.

And the continuous turn of events continues

When 2015 began I certainly didn’t see myself finishing it broke, jobless, and single. I also found my first grey hair today and I really wish that was the worst thing that had happened in the day. But it wasn’t. As I found myself sitting in my room of my parents home, the same room I lived in from ages 9 till 17, I couldn’t help but laugh at my life. I left five years ago after a break up, I left to study journalism in Hamilton and I had roughly $2,000 to my name. I was single, I had no job, I had very little money…but I did not have a grey hair. Now, five years later, I’ve returned with the same amount of money, no job, and single. It’s like nothing has changed yet I know everything has changed.

Here’s the thing about breaking up after four years: the world is a different place to navigate than the one I went into the relationship in. For starters, I’m now at an age where it’s like, do I make the change in relationship status public or private? When do I change it because I’m not quite ready to make it ‘official’ no matter how official it is. How do you go about dating again, not that that’s really on my to do list for some time. But how do you suddenly navigate a world where you’re suddenly four years older and have grey hairs appearing? A world where there are now things like Tinder? How do you actually even start again after four years turned into “I don’t feel the same way anymore” when you’d only just been talking about engagement and spending forever together less than six months before. Exactly how is it you get up and get on with life? The first thing people ask is how am I. I’m good. I’ve just come back from an amazing round the world trip and I have my horse back, I’ve found the perfect grazing for her just down the road, I have a cat, I have opportunities. I have an entire world at my feet…so I’m good.

But at the same time I feel like a truck has run over me because when I left, what I pictured coming back to was a very different landscape. My brain is still struggling to get itself around the fact I was in France a week ago and now I’m in New Zealand now it has to adapt to a whole new world.

And how do you go from picturing green paddocks and orchards and planting a veggie garden with someone to having no idea what the next step is?

Since I’m being honest, it’s also very hard to not decide to be a crazy cat lady forever when four out of five relationships have ended with “I just don’t feel the same way anymore”. Cool as guys. Super cool.

The best part about breaking up after one of the best breakup songs to date has just dropped: you ain’t alone in those tears. Cheers Adele.

So, let me reintroduce myself because this atomic bomb that’s gone off in slow motion over the past year has left me with a ringing in my ears and an inability to breath properly. I’m Sacha. I’m going to be 22 in a week, not even that. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. And I have two weddings to be the bridesmaid for. And I’ve got a broken tail bone. And I know at some stage my heart will heal from the pain of losing people, of the family dramas, of this break up. It will get better because I have a cat and I have a horse. I have a degree. And I’m still standing. Because I’m yet to find something in my 22 years that’s left me unable to get up again. That atomic bomb has sent me flying and I’ve probably cried more tears in the past 12 months than I’ve cried in my entire life. But it means I can still feel and the ringing in my ears is slowly easing and the dust is settling. And I’m going to be just fine.

Let’s do that again. I’m Sacha, I’ll be 22 shortly, I’ve travelled the world, I have a degree in communications (ironic at times), I have a diploma in journalism. I have a passion for helping people and I’m thinking about retraining and figuring out how to put all my skills to good use. I’m part of this cool organisation called YouthNet designed to help bridge gaps to see our youth suicide rate improve, actually I’d like us not to have one. I love to do yoga. I love God. I have an awesome horse called Ivy and a cat called Charlie, he’s a bit like me: he’s been through a bit of bullshit so he’s not too sure on the being too close to people thing, but he loves pats and he seems to love me. I’m not sure what’s going to happen in my life right now. I have a clean slate, I have a whole world ahead of me and I can do what I want with it. And I damn well will do just that. I can do that.

So to all the newly singles out there, cheers to you. And all those in great relationships: appreciate them.

Common, let’s do this.

Stress…just stress.

Stress. My good old buddy stress. I’d like to say we’d parted ways long ago but I doubt that will ever be the case. It’s my fault in part, I did decide to plan an overseas trip at the last moment…but life just likes to throw in all these odd curve balls – good and bad.

Work has been great, too great. I’ve had all these great stories come up but the problem with a whole bunch of good stories is it means a whole bunch of transcribes and council agendas and interviews and after a while the words stop making sense and the pages start spinning. One transcribe, which was from a 30minute long interview, was over 700 words. And all you college kids are whinging about a 3000 word essay. I can write 3000 words in my sleep…no seriously, I’ve started dreaming articles.

Mardy sold, which was fantastic and takes the heat off saving…because lets be honest…I actually had no idea how I was paying for a good 1/3rd of the trip before that. Ivy has gone to her new lease home which is both heart stoppingly nerve wracking and fantastic. For the first time since I started working, I will not be paying grazing…and I actually have time to GROCERY SHOP!

I haven’t done a proper grocery shop, and by proper I mean one where I’m not dodging people while running from isle to isle grabbing what I actually cannot live without frantically from the shelves and flying through the self checkout isle, for more than three weeks. And by what I cannot live without I mean things like almond milk…I ate chips for dinner. According to my tired brain dinner doesn’t count as a necessary component to life.

But back to Ivy…she’s my baby. I’m her person. I’ve had her for the past six years, no one has looked after her for more than two weeks at a time. No one. She is never further than an hour from me. That, and there have only been two other people ride her since I bought her…and I was there the whole time with both. So yes, I’m sort of freaking out.

I also came home to find Casey screaming in pain on Saturday, first time calling an ambulance…yep super fun. Thankfully she is ok and for her sake (and because I value my life) I’m not going to go into details. But hey, at least I already knew my way around a hospital so knew where to park!

And because I love my job and really want to make sure I do everything I need to do before I go, I’m doing bike rides like they’re going out of fashion. My butt is not forgiving me for them.

Oh and Snuggie my cat is still missing after two weeks.

Alex moves this week.

Oh yeah, and I’m leaving the country in four weeks…including this one.

I haven’t even booked my Austria flight! I just want to book the damn flight! And then there is accommodation…deep breaths. Lots and lots of them.

Then I also agreed to do this speaking thing. I’m kind of excited and also really really regretting the decision due to the fact my adrenaline is already pumping at a rate of knots and I’m sick…again.

Not that I really blame my immune system, I’ve sort of put it through hell as of late. My skin is also jumping on the ‘I’m in protest of your life currently’ and throwing a bit of a hissy fit. I don’t blame it really, given I’ve eaten both gluten and dairy in the past week alone and can’t remember the last time I cooked myself a half decent dinner that didn’t include chips or coconut water as a staple item.

Never the less, I am alive. Tired, stressed, but alive.

Headless chicken mode activated.

On the crazy train: part 1

It is not easy to move on. With each stage of life we stumble through, blindly hoping we make it out the other side (or others, confidently stomping their way through, marking their territory), we have to learn how to let go, and move on. 

As I lie here in my bed, with sheets that are due for a change and a room that looks like it has been burgled, I still can’t quite get my head around the fact this is the last night I will live with Melissa. Come Monday, it will be the end of my ‘student’ years and into the real, real world. Just like that I pop out the other side of three years of study, into my next stage of life. 

No fuss, no talking about it. Just like that. 

I have been watching a significant amount of Grey’s Anatomy lately in attempts to encourage tears. I’ve managed a few but nothing substantial for the incredible overwhelming sense of terror I feel. 

This is it, what I’ve been waiting for all my life. To get to this point. And quite frankly, now I am here I’d quite like to get back (or stay) in bed, pull the covers over my head, put on a sad tune or two and just go back to sleep. Wake up three years ago and just do it all again. Growing up is daunting . Actually, I think life is just daunting. There just seems to be a never ending flow of changes and problems and if it is not one thing, you can count on it being another. 

Worn out and too tired at 20. I don’t know how to feel about that, but I nearly hugged the bartender who asked for my ID. 

I am so wrapped up in all the new things bombarding me at the moment I can’t even muster enough anger to want to slap my sisters boyfriend, whom she recently broke up with. He’s been an ass and deserves a serving of crazy Sacha. But, I just can’t manage the emotion. It just up and left me. Now, I’m floundering around in this lack luster dream world, a sort of fog that has consumed my brain. 

I’m going to sleep, take more vit C and mentally beat my sisters ex. 

Then, tomorrow, I might conquer the world.

Here comes the T-Rex

My second day has begun. I managed to set off the smoke alarm, do my make-up in the car and eat breakfast while also in the car. These are things I should not be proud of, but I do feel my ability to multitask seems to increase when I’m running late. Either that or, like I did this morning, drop almost everything I pick up.

I blame lack of sleep.

It’s not that I didn’t want to be asleep, it’s that my brain just didn’t want to turn off. Possibly shouldn’t have had that coffee at 3pm. Instead I am having it in the morning today. Nerves are something I am more than familiar with, this comes from years of hurtling myself in the air on top of an animal. However, nerves and me have an odd relationship. I thrive off them, it is like coffee for me, I need them to feel like something is happening. The problem, well like coffee, it makes me jumpy, forgetful and unable to sleep. 

Nerves, why nerves? Ah, well you see, I have had a few jobs in my life, not many, but a couple. Two horse riding and teaching positions, one for my parents, one sort of job relief milking and the rest of my money I make possum trapping. The two horse riding bosses were a little, we’ll say eccentric, and things didn’t end so well at either one. I’d like to think this is no reflection of my personality, I just don’t like working for crazy people. My milking job was great, I loved the work (not so much the early mornings) and the bosses (including my own partner) were good. It just didn’t fit in so well with the fact I lived an hour away and studied full time and because it was only a temp job. Possum trapping was just me dad and my sister sometimes and dad’s mate, so there isn’t really anything to reflect on there – it was just hard work, nothing I can’t handle.

See, all these jobs just sort of happened. I got asked “hey, can you do this?” I said, yep, and they said here, have a job. From there, I had a job. I had a CV for tech and I’d sort of kept it up to date but there had been no reason for me to ever use it. Until now.

I applied for my first job. This is a horrendously scary thing to do when you’ve never done it before. Not because the job is scary, it looks like the perfect job for me and I love the publication, but the fear of rejection is huge. Like a big fat elephant huge. And it sat on me last night. Hence, no sleep. It’s not very comfortable being squashed by an elephant. Now I have an interview for the position, this has turned that fear elephant into a ginormous T-Rex and it’s going to consume me.

I’m looking forward to the interview, I like to chat to people but I’m used to being on the other end of the interviewing table. I ask the questions, I’m not sure how to answer the questions! I guess they will get a very honest view of who I am. Though, this thought alone scares me more than a T-Rex.

So, while I sit here at Woman’s Day trying to take my mind off next weeks interview, all I can think about is how much I need to clean something. It is very soothing I have discovered. I want something, anything, a dirty floor or surface to wipe and vacuum. I even ironed last night I’m that desperate.

That coffee was a bad decision.

Sinking ship

It is just one of those weeks. You know the ones where no matter what you do, it just isn’t working for you? Brain function becomes limited, memory just doesn’t exist and every move you make up winds up like a cake in the face. Getting on top of things finally, I managed to sort a very important interview. It was the answer to my various ‘worry points’. Of course, I get my dates wrong and make it for the one time in the entire week I’m not available. I’ll be sitting in another interview in another town. I want to cry. Not like a sad cry, more of a I want to sink slowly into the floor and cry out why! 

It is just one of those weeks. 

My fingers have also joined in and decided to no longer type logically. Y’s become S’s and M’s become E’s and the left and the right hand don’t cooperate. Oh yea, and the house is for sale so we’re going to have people walking through it. And open homes… three weekends in a row. I like my sleep, have I ever mentioned that? 

So, I’m holding my head high, trudging on through the trenches and have concluded *sigh* is the best way to explain this week. The best part is yet to come. I have to get down to New Plymouth, interview someone (and sound somewhat with it) including video and photographs. Thankfully Melissa is accompanying me on this adventure so there may be hope. 

There may be hope.

Ginger nightmare

Being home alone is always a bit scary. Having a cat by my side has always made me feel a little better about the creeks and the thumps in the middle of the night. However, our little ginger bundle of cuteness has reached a whole new level or clingy. After my little freak out he had gone missing for good when I first arrived home, I was pretty excited to see him. Then it just got too much. I had a shadow, a ginger shadow. One that was unable to be in a different room. So much so he decided to use the hallway rug as a toilet in the middle of the night. My poor and unsuspecting nose picked up on it during my cleaning rampage. Things only got worse after he decided to sleep right by my face for most of the night before I think I squashed him. He then moved so he was at shoulder hight. This was of course after he climbed under the blankets and on top of my teddy in order to have cuddles. I still was partially cutified by the level of commitment he had to our relationship. Until he messed up my floor. I cleaned (I’ve just been in a clean freaky mood lately), the floor, the bathroom the lot. So you can imagine my horror when I walked out to find only seconds after drying and refilling his litter box, placing it in it’s place on the floor he had merrily distributed most of the contents onto the clean floor. 

Outside he went.

The second time today. I have a slight feeling it was revenge for rubbing his face in the mess he made in the hallway earlier that day. Either way, I was not happy. 

Meow, meow, meeeeeeowwww, meow, meow. 

Put it this way, the small cute, ginger bundle of fluff is lucky to still have a home. After cleaning up after him all day, nearly suffocating on him at night, tripping over him every two seconds and listening to constant meowing when placed outside, I am at whits end. 

I love him, I do. But if he’s going to have a relationship he need to learn that girls, they need their space.

Dr. A Kumar

It has been a very long week. It is only Tuesday (well, technically Wednesday) and I am over it. It is just one of those weeks, you know? Nothing has gone particularly badly. Today I had a consult with a surgeon, Dr. A Kumar. That is his actual name. He made my mind up for me. Well, actually he told me, you wont be having the surgery. Ok, great. In most situations that would make people pretty happy. It did make me happy. It was however what followed. Now I’m not a huge numbers person and I’m not big on the public health system so I can see how my opinion might be swayed. This though, was really the icing on the cake. 

Simply: A normal thyroid is between 0.3- (some number I can’t remember and totally irrelevant). Mine is 0.05. Below normal, indicating (well, actually proving) I have an over active thyroid (don’t ask me how it works, thats just the uncomplicated version). 

I’m just assuming, I didn’t go to med school, but I think in year 6, possibly sooner, we learnt that 0.05 was a smaller number than 0.3. I really hope I’m not wrong here.

So, sitting on his chair he leaned back. Folded his arms that didn’t quite fit comfortably across his body and he said; “There is nothing wrong with your thyroid.” I said; “Why am I here then?” He said; “Because everyone else read your results wrong.” 

They, they, they. I paused. Waited. My brain contemplated the best response. 1) Slap. 2) Stare at his with my mouth on the floor and a ‘what the actual flying bananas’ look or 3) cry. I would like to say I took option two, or even one. But no. My overly enthusiastic tear ducts just couldn’t help themselves. But that was ok. 

I was still processing that not only had this ‘surgeon’ told me I had nothing wrong with me though blood tests proved very clearly otherwise, he had told me every other person I had ever seen about it was wrong (including an endocrinologist who specializes in this exact thing), BUT he also told me not a single one of my symptoms fit an over active thyroid.

This was purely mind boggling.

My anger began to reach an all time high. Perhaps I would have resumed breathing had he not have answered: “I don’t know” when I asked his well, what would it be then?

My faith in this country’s public health system has not been restored. 


(Quotes are not exact)