Would you like Hypothyroidism with your Multiple Sclerosis?

This week I have been in Sydney.
My trip has primarily been for the purpose of getting a delightful MRI followed by a thrilling neuro appointment and initially concluded by a visit to a dermatologist.
With these things and stuff in mind, it has been somewhat difficult to entirely enjoy my time here in my beloved Sydney town. I was explaining how I feel to M. He put it exactly how I couldn't. It's like I am not allowed to enjoy my time here. It's a business trip. It's not for fun. Don't get me wrong! I have had a lovely time. It was fortunate that M finished up a thingy for work here just as I entered the state. So, selfishly, I have been enjoying my time with M, enjoying Sydney town together.
So the MRI was fine. It's not great fun. I mean, they (those people) put this plastic kinda cage type thing over my head when I'm laying on the tube bed (all the correct metalanguage used in this blog!). It's not a cage but it's like I'm going into battle or others are being protected from me. Yes, much like a dog - don't worry, I thought that also.
But the best bit this time for me, was the injecting of the dye which highlights active lesions. I have to mention here that in the morning on this day, I waited for an hour (irrelevant detail there but an opportunity to whinge) to get a blood test to see if I really needed to see a dermatologist. The blood taking person struggled to find a vein. It took about 5 mins and a few different strategies to get it and when she put the needle in my arm, she had to wiggle it (just a little bit - sorry another song reference) to finally reach the vein, and drain. Back to the dye injecting story...you can imagine how excited I was when the MRI man said it was time to inject the dye. Please veins, show yourselves! But no such luck. I even drank so much fucking water alllll morning. So he tried the usual injecting spot (what is that bit called? The bum of your elbow or something?). Then he moved to my hand. Um, ouch! Tried one vein twice, then finally, painful success. The cage was on my head throughout this vein finding ordeal. Yukkiness.
I know I make it sound like some crazy horrific experience. It wasn't. I'm now quite brave with stuff. I know many people go through truly horrific medical experiences. I don't consider myself to be one of those people, at all.
Let us revisit the blood test. That was Tuesday morning, then comes Wednesday evening pre dinner time. I got a call from the wonderful Dr B. He had news from my results. I have an underactive thyroid (aka hypothyroidism). Whhhhhhhyyyy!!!!????? For fuck's sake. Really? Okay, so it means more medication. Low dose to start. At least my hair might stop falling out. At least I might stop looking pasty in the face. At least I might even get some energy back!
What do you think I did when I heard the news? Yup. You guessed it...hello google! When will I learn?
I'm just annoyed. Y'know?
So I cancelled my dermatologist appointment. Instead I'm eating 50micrograms of thyroxine each day, on an empty stomach. The damn stuff also needs to be refrigerated. Luckily I have experience with refrigerating medication already, so it's annoyance will not create a huge impact. Then will come a blood test in 6 weeks to see if my levels are where they should be. Have you googled it yet? It's really not what I need. It's not ideal.
Meanwhile, I am concerned about my poor liver. Again.
Further to all this...I see the neurologist tomorrow. It's definitely been on my mind. But even more so as it gets closer.
I began by being all cool, calm and collected. Yeah like I'll go along, touch base, tell him about my weird one eye open and my thumb thing, he'll check over my latest MRI, tell me I'm going well and my Rebif is doing what it should and to conclude he can tell me my liver is all good.
In a perfect world, I would like him to tell me that I'm going to be fine and that my MS is magically disappearing and that I'm so totally healthy.
That won't happen.
I'm nervous.
I'm scared.
I want to be brave.
I want it to be okay.
Do I think positive, only to be disappointed with negative news?
Or do I set myself up for disappointment to then be comforted by being told things are not that bad?
P.S This post was typed entirely on my iPhone. I surprise myself at the patience I possess typing with just my right forefinger.