In which several loose ends are wrapped up.

Yoga Floozies.
The week after I wrote about the yoga floozies, they were miraculously replaced by three individuals EVEN MORE old and decrepit than the usual class members. It was like the loaves and the fishes or the water and the wine or something. There was a skinny old guy with a knee brace, an even older guy with a quite remarkable gut*, and a woman with some kind of back injury. Weird.

*In yoga, the gut is a disability. Even such a girl gut as I have is troublesome, as it gets in the way and prevents you from bending and twisting as you might otherwise wish.

The Endocrinologist: Rocks.
Early readers of my blog (yeah, cause there's like three of you) may recall my traumatic visit to the GP regarding my thyroid medication, during which she referred me to the endocrinologist, but not until September 23.

So last Friday I went to the endocrinologist, who, in a word, rocks. I had started going to this particular clinic in hopes of eventually getting referred to this same endocrinologist, who is widely praised on the Internets as a thyroid doctor who actually wants you to feel better and is willing to pay attention to your symptoms and adjust your medication until you feel better. (As opposed to a thyroid doctor who wants you to go the fuck away once your thyroid levels get into the barely normal range, because you're all depressed and whiny and it's a huge pain in his ass. That was my previous endocrinologist. The one who I fired last February. I actually gave him "the hand." (You know, the hand? Like "talk to the hand"??) (Yes, I did come of age in the early 90s. What's your point?))

So anyway, although my T3 thyroid medication is available again now, he actually wants to increase my T4 dosage another notch to see if that does better for me. He was also really optimistic, communicated that he GOT IT that I need to have my medication working ("Yeah, law school's not going to work if you're in a state where you read a page and none of it sticks."), and also seemed to realize that when you've been "treated" by doctors who dismiss the seriousness of your symptoms, that kind of reassurance is in itself a big help.

He also seemed to share my perspective on the whole thyroid situation, which is: it's not rocket science, it's not like I'm asking for Oxycontin, it's not like the drugs are superdangerous, and it's not expensive or complicated to monitor, so exactly WHAT is the big fucking obstacle to optimizing the dosage??

Yay. Whew. He also gave me an extra prescription so I can create a small stockpile of the T3 medication in case the supply goes haywire again. Or in the event of World Economic Collapse (WEC).

Giant Spiders.
...are still running around my house. I saw the supergiant one a few days ago. However, I did kill one Sunday night. It was small enough to maybe be a Hobo. I flung my datebook at it and got lucky.