Dear Thyroid:

I am writing to you because I realize I have some apologies to make.

I have been blaming you unfairly for the past couple of months, believing you to be the arbitrar of my debilitating physical symptoms, and loss of mental sharpness. When people would ask what was wrong, I would point to you and explain that you had gone faulty, that your parts had worn out prematurely; an ingrate refusing to do your essential duty. I thought back throughout my life and implicated you in all my fatigue, all my brain fog, all my mental struggles and physical pains. I blamed you for my disease, I held you responsible for changing my life so drastically, and I felt betrayed by your lack of function.

Now, after much research and reflection, I realize you were not the assailant. You were, and are, the victim. You are suffering in this too, just as I am.

When you swelled up suddenly over the course of ten minutes that one fateful night, I assumed it was out of malfunction, a reaction to the replacement hormones I had begun taking. I realize now, you were screaming for help.

I am sorry, thyroid, for being so embroiled in my hurt that I failed to see your wounds. It became more clear with the ultrasound, where it was revealed that you were being torn apart, bit by bit, cut by cut, by none other than my own immune system.

It was then I realized how strong you had tried to be all these years. For at least a decade, you fought long and hard to keep me healthy, mobile, and alert, even as your strength waned and your hormonal messages became lost in translation. It wasn't until this year that you found yourself completely unable to keep up with daily requirements, such as blood sugar regulation. And here I had thought you had orchestrated the whole thing, a quirk of genetic unluckiness. 

I see clearly now, thyroid. I see now that my immune system became triggered by some precipitous event - of which there are a few I can think of - as well as a lifetime of chronic stress, abuse, and emotional neglect. After so much exposure to stress, my immune system became stuck in the "on" position, and as it swung, terrified, at all the shadows that it saw as enemies, it struck you as well. The two of you went from being partners in a beautifully dynamic system to adversaries, as my immune system lost the ability to recognize you, and instead began targeting you mercilessly. 

And you endured this treatment... for me. How I wish I had tested you sooner, maybe some of this could have been avoided. How I wish one of the adults in my life would have listened to my symptoms, and gotten me the treatment I desperately needed, before it came to this.

I want you to know, I am trying to change for the better. I have stopped consuming gluten, because I know it makes my immune system worse and it increases its attacks on you. I am trying to go to bed earlier and get more rest, so that it is easier for you to heal and to release the hormones I need. I know you're still struggling a lot, so I will ask my endocrinologist if there are any more medications or supplements that can help you feel better. And most of all, I am going to try to reduce my stress as much as I can, since I know that is what hurts you the most. It will be difficult as a full time student, but I will try.

They say a healthy person has a thousand dreams, but an unhealthy person has only one: to feel better. I imagine this is your dream also. I'm trying. We'll get there. Someday my immune system will realize its error and go into remission, and maybe you will regain some of the function you lost. Maybe it's not too late, and my lifestyle interventions will work. Maybe it is too late. I certainly hope not, having only gotten to know you a few months ago.

Even now, I can feel your hurt like it's my own. I feel the pain in the left side of my neck and know you are under attack. Yet you keep going, desperately trying to send the messages my cells need to function. I am sorry for everything that's happened to us. I will try to make this work.

You are the butterfly that chokes me, but I hope I will help you fly again.

Yours always,

Me