Hello World: Why I'm Writing a Blog

Hi, Internet! My name is Kim and like the millions of other people online, I decided to create a blog. What am I contributing to the trillions of pieces of web content already on the interweb? Maybe not a lot, but possibly something important. There's no way to know unless I try this out for myself.

My best friend has been urging me to create this blog for almost two years and finally reached her breaking point. Yesterday afternoon, over a lovely lunch at a gluten free bakery, she looked me straight in the eye and said that it was time for me to "Pay it forward to someone who is sh*tting their brains out and vomiting constantly." Despite her colorful choice of words, she has a point. For the last eight years, I've spent countless hours Googling everything under the sun about my health issues and I've been through a TON of trials and tribulations. I'm slowly figuring out some things that work for me through the help of doctors, family, friends and Internet strangers who also write blogs.

Here's my story. The long version. I was always underweight. Boo-hoo, I know. Both my parents grew up as skinny kids and didn't worry too much about it. One day during a routine check up, a doctor noticed that I had an "almost Adam's apple" sized lump in my throat despite the fact that I'm female. I was scheduled to have a sonogram on my thyroid when I was about 12 years old and nothing was found except for my dislike for people poking and prodding at my now recognizable, embarrassingly swollen neck. Life moved on, and I wasn't tested again since I seemed to be a healthy kid. I continued to stay under 100 pounds until I reached college when I probably peaked at 105. Seems great, right? Trust me, I wish I enjoyed it. I dealt with assumptions and statements about how I didn't eat, was probably anorexic or bulimic. My friends and boyfriend knew the truth because they watched me house pizza, chips and other unhealthy foods and figured I was blessed with what seemed to be either an overactive thyroid or just excellent genes.

This all changed when I graduated college in June of 2010, and I went from being around 100 pounds to rapidly gaining weight and losing every ounce of energy. This wasn't the typical tired feeling that happens when you get older. This was a sudden drop in energy that made me absolutely lethargic. I practically transformed from being a master of college all-nighters to becoming someone who would leave work, eat dinner and pass out on the couch because I couldn't make it to bed. Just like all healthy 21 year olds, right? By the end of the summer, I took my mom's suggestion to make an endocrinologist appointment (Ugh, he's going to poke my throat) and the doctor quickly reported back that I had a Vitamin D deficiency. Now, before you laugh, this was before the world learned that practically every human today has a lack of Vitamin D. I naively expected these vitamins to cure all of my ailments, but not too much really changed...with me. About a week later, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and my frustration about exhaustion and weight gain were the least of my concerns. My whole family supported my mom during her (successful!) fight and we all gained weight together, using food as comfort through a tough time for all of us.

Flash forward to around six months later, with my mom cancer free and doing great, I went back for a routine endocrinologist check up. I was 22, in the middle of my first year at a part time teaching job. I remember taking my endocrinologist's phone call right away because I was confused about why my doctor was calling me back. He sounded shocked and even urgent when he informed me that I needed to start taking Synthroid immediately. ASAP. Run to CVS. He didn't tell me that last one, but his tone was intense.  My levels dropped incredibly low and I needed to start taking medicine everyday for the rest of my life. I had hypothyroidism. I remember how confused he sounded when he asked if I've noticed anything different because of how drastic my levels suddenly fell. I laughed thinking about how exhausted I was over the past year, the added stress of my mom's battle and how my previously thin 5'3'' frame must have gained over fifty pounds in the process. Nonetheless, I had an actual diagnosis and was pretty relieved that being in your early twenties didn't mean complete and total exhaustion.

My first time taking Synthroid felt like an instant energy boost. The weight practically fell off of me and I felt like my energetic college self again. Friends started asking what I was doing and I said the weight loss was just an excellent side effect of this new medicine I was taking. I assumed I would go back to how I looked and felt before, because why wouldn't I? It was all great, until it stopped. The weight returned and so did the exhaustion. I spent the next few months to years asking my endo why this was happening. I started losing my hair, having emotional meltdowns and feeling generally awful. They retested my levels. Urine tests. Blood tests. Nothing. My levels were fine. All I heard from my doctor were statements along the lines of, "It's just your work environment." "Maybe eat better and exercise more." "It's probably just stress." Sure. Just that.

There's truly nothing like being told something is all in your head. Your entire body feels like it's failing you, but you are being told by professionals that you aren't working hard enough to make yourself feel better. I tried MyFitnessPal. I joined kickboxing and went to classes three times a week. I even bought a gym membership. Nothing. This weight was here to stay and it came with bloating, anxiety and mood swings. There was just one thing I didn't actually try. I knew from my first endocrinologist appointment that I needed to eventually get an updated sonogram, but there was no rush, so I didn't make an appointment. I didn't for years.

I spent the next few years running at full speed while burning the candle at both ends. I was teaching at two different schools part time, coaching Varsity Cheerleading during both football and basketball season, tutoring students after school and finishing my Masters degree. Thankfully, one of my part time jobs became a full time position, so I was able to just focus on writing my thesis to complete my degree in English Lit. A few months after graduation, my high school sweetheart and incredible boyfriend of almost ten years proposed. 2014 was a blur filled with wedding shopping, wedding dieting (otherwise known as eating rice cakes and low fat yogurt for six months) and the general, mostly happy stress that comes from planning an incredible day of your life.

I waited until a month after our wedding in January 2015 to finally ask my endocrinologist for a new script for a sonogram. His eyes boggled when he realized I never once used his previous scripts to make an appointment and he quickly wrote me a new one, making me promise that I would go. I finally did and scheduled my sonogram. Well, as it turned out, my thyroid had nodules. Little malformations, mostly on my right side. Four, to be exact. And my doctor wanted all of them biopsied. I finally gained the courage to get my neck poked and prodded with a sonogram machine, but now I needed needles shoved into it. Pretty much nightmare fuel for anyone, but especially for someone who already had weird issues about her neck. The biopsies came back and one nodule was deemed "suspicious," meaning that they couldn't tell if it was malignant or not. My doctor called to calmly tell me I needed that half of my thyroid taken out. Surgery. I was floored. It was March and my first thought was my upcoming spring break. I had no plans, so it could be removed and I'd have time to recover. Thankfully, my husband and family slowed me down and I went to a few different doctors and surgeons for second opinions and learned TONS of information. Just what every newlywed, 26 year old wants, romantic trips into Manhattan to talk to Sloan Kettering doctors about possibly having cancer. I decided to take an Afirma test (involving another set of biopsies) to find the numerical likelihood if the suspicious nodule could turn into cancer based on my DNA. It came back with a 30% chance. Too high. Surgery.

It wasn't until August 5, 2015 that I was finally scheduled to have my right side partial thyroidectomy. I decided to go with a hospital closer to my house to avoid all the city traveling. I was anxious and just wanted it OUT. The surgeon quickly discovered that I'm not only hypothyroid, but I have a very obvious, raging case of Hashimotos disease. He was mystified that I didn't know this earlier and said he had a first hand look at how inflamed my thyroid actually was. This wasn't a huge surprise because Hashimotos actually runs in my family, but it was surprising that it was never explicitly said until a doctor got a up close and personal look at my angry organ.

A week later, it was discovered that the nodule was officially benign. No cancer. Just recovery time and a big ol' scar that looks like it came from an unsuccessful Game of Thrones battle. The surgeon also informed me that I couldn't ingest dairy for ten days due to it being difficult to swallow, and I was in an uncomfortable amount of oscillating throat pain. I went back to work in September 2015 with tons of cool scarves and a microphone headset to help me teach for the first month when my voice was slowly becoming strong again. I also noticed that dairy no longer sat well in my stomach. Actually, nothing did. Everything I ate was making me sick. Food became my biggest fear because it made me feel bloated up to the point where I was in pain from my stomach's distention. I was confused, scared and my doctors said all my levels were shockingly fine after a small readjustment to my medicine. I sought the advice of more specialists. A rheumatologist said I had undiagnosed inflammation which could just be from the Hashimotos, but needed much more blood work done to maybe find new results. I already had 14+ vials of blood taken, but nah. They needed more. A gastroenterologist stoically told me I should just schedule a colonoscopy, less than a month after my surgery. That suggestion resulted in me sobbing in his office.

I honestly didn't know what to do. My life became doctor's appointments with no answers. I didn't feel like myself. All food became intimidating because I didn't know what was making me sick. I was suddenly plagued with intense anxiety attacks about the smallest things. I was 100% miserable and felt completely trapped. This spiral continued until a tutoring client/family friend asked how I was feeling. She noticed that I didn't seem as great as I kept saying I was. I confessed that I was struggling with what I assumed was my new-found Hashimotos diagnosis. She suggested that I try eating gluten free since autoimmune diseases are so closely linked, and I could have a gluten allergy similar to Celiac disease. She herself was suffering from a non-Celiac autoimmune disease and said her new food lifestyle was nothing short of life changing.

I decided to try it out. I told my poor new husband and he was actually excited for the challenge of cooking his always restaurant-quality meals with a new non-gluten twist. So as of October 5, 2015, I was gluten free. A week went by and I felt okay. Two weeks went by and the bloating subsided. A month went by and my energy was back. Six months later and I fit into my old clothes. By October 5, 2016, I had lost at least ten pounds, regained most of my energy and was less scared to accidentally poison myself with food. I went back to the rheumatologist who said my inflammation basically disappeared. She said I might have correctly diagnosed myself with a gluten intolerance or sensitivity because my blood work looked much better. My general physician actually high-fived me when he saw the difference in my weight and my general attitude.

The only issue I had left was spontaneous painful bloating and lingering digestive issues. It was SO much better than before I was eating gluten free, but it was still frustrating. I decided to try a new gastroenterologist who didn't immediately push me to get a colonoscopy, but instead recognized that I had IBS. Ah, that made a lot of sense. Then I went for a four hour lactose breath test and a five hour Bacterial Overgrowth breath test. The results were negative for lactose (Yay cheese!) and positive for SIBO, Small Intestinal Bacterial Overgrowth. This meant that I had an excess of bacteria in my small intestine that was causing the bloating and digestive discomfort. Fun.

This is where I am now, on August 8, 2017. I'm currently taking antibiotics three times a day for two weeks for SIBO, dealing with IBS, managing my Hashimotos disease and still eating gluten free. It's been quite a health journey for me and I'm sure I'll never stop learning. I'm 28 years old and only now am I starting to figure out that my body needs balance. It's sensitive, but strong. I have to manage my stress and remember that it's okay when my body needs a break and wants to nap. It doesn't make me weak, it just means that I'm more in tune now with what it needs.

I hope this blog does for you what other Instagram accounts, blogs, forums, websites, books, and people did for me throughout my process. I hope it gives you hope and knowledge that you aren't alone. I plan on sharing excellent gluten free finds and discoveries about medicines, lifestyle changes and general tips and tricks that worked for me. I'll also include ones that didn't, so you don't make the same mistakes. Full disclosure: I'm not a professional nutritionist, I'm not a doctor, and I'm definitely not a food sensitivity expert. I don't endorse fast diet methods and I won't promise to make things better. I'm just going to share my story here and hope that it helps someone out there.

Nice to meet you Internet readers. Talk soon.

- KB