Me and My Thyroid
How one berserk gland has made me think about social ramifications of being fat, being around for my kids as they grow up, and the burning world around me.
Around 18 months ago or so, I made a promise to myself that I’d start eating a little better. I would eat less at lunch and dinner, and I would try to make healthier choices. It wasn’t a diet, so to speak, but it was a gateway to a lifestyle that common sense dictated was “healthier.” My wife at the same time was dieting and exercising nearly every day. These weren’t walks around the neighborhood either. They were high-intensity dance and spin workouts. She lost a lot of weight. So did I, at least up until around February of this year.
It didn’t seem fair at all. I did the bare minimum. I didn’t eat thirds and tried not to eat seconds at dinner. Big deal, right? She worked and worked and worked and scraped by to get results while I barely even tried. At first, we chalked it up to male metabolism. There was empirical evidence before when we both would do Weight Watchers simultaneously. I would lose weight faster and more easily than she would with similar effort. But the efforts this time were far from similar.
Losing weight without effort is not a sign of good health. While I enjoyed the benefits of shedding pounds, I started feeling some side effects that were a bit troubling. Tremors in my hands were the big sign. I started to get a bit scared that maybe it was early-onset Parkinson’s or some other neurological disorder. This kind of paranoia is nothing new for me, to be honest. I used to think my sinus headaches were the warning tremors of an aneurysm in my brain. I have a little bit of a hypochondriac’s streak. In February of this year, I finally brought it up to my doctor, who had blood work done. Results showed elevated thyroid enzymes. The specialist confirmed that I had a goiter on my thyroid gland that was causing overactivity, of which hand tremors were a symptom.
After something like six months of medication for said condition, I have now gained a bunch of that weight back. My eating habits haven’t helped. I don’t know how much of that is COVID-19 quarantine life related or what. I suspect even if the coronavirus had not been a thing at all this year, I’d still have gained back a huge chunk of that weight thus far. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t demoralized. Yes, my health is a net positive, but I hate the feeling of barely fitting into clothes that I was just now starting to feel comfortable in, or the tension in skin around my thighs from the lipids slowly creeping back into spaces they had vacated.
People on Twitter in left spaces often ask what your most right-wing belief is. For me, it concerns the idea on the reaches of fatphobia. It’s not that I don’t think it’s a thing. I certainly believe that fatphobia is a thing, and a dangerous one at that. I don’t think how much a person weighs is anyone else’s business but the people that person has decided to involve in their weight issues. I have been on the receiving end of brutal fat-shaming from peers and even teachers. Fat-shaming is the last acceptable bigotry in the world. However, when I see things like “wanting to lose weight is internalized fatphobia,” it vexes me. It’s the one place where the total inversion of cultural norms actually does veer into harmful territory. It’s not a rejection of eugenics or racism or transphobia where a 100 percent inversion is actually the right mindset.
While I truly believe some doctors go way too far in using body weight as a clever scapegoat for anything, sometimes masking a real issue, there’s no denying that fatness can discourage activity, or that high body mass leads to health problems. I have intrusive thoughts all the time about heart disease, cardiovascular failure, and type-II diabetes. I want to be around for my children until they themselves have children and even longer. I want to be able to walk my daughter down the aisle at her wedding should that be something she chooses to do. Reckless dietary habits combined with sedentary behavior will destroy that. I agree that sometimes, obesity isn’t always the sign of it, and that some fat people are healthy while some “skinny” folks are probably sicklier than a greater percentage of the population. However, eating a lot of calories and not doing enough to burn them off will lead to an excess of body mass. It’s not fatphobic to reckon with that reality, and it’s a reality I have not done a good job dealing with.
In case you’ve not been paying attention to the newsletter to date, or you are a recent subscriber, I like to eat. Food is a simple joy in life, one that can be as spartan or decadent as you want it to be. I mostly choose the latter, because my id goes berserk whenever a fine cake or a plate of cured pork products is somewhere nearby. I say to myself “I’m here for a good time, not a long time,” until I look into the eyes of my son, who is developing the same voracious appetite as I have, and realize I probably do want to be here for a long time too.
So now, I’m back to where I started before I knew I had a haywire thyroid. I hate diets. I haven’t gotten one to stick since 2010, when I was most successful with Weight Watchers. That was ten years ago. Roy Halladay was not only still alive; he was pitching a playoff no-hitter for the Phillies. The Phillies in the playoffs, wow, what a concept. I want to start through portion control. And I know that will go out the window the first time I go to a party with the good snacks. I see what my wife has done, and she is the strongest person I know for having gotten this far. It also feels unattainable for me. And it crushes me.
I guess it’s yet another thing to balance in a world that requires too many people to balance so many things that might just be out of their control. I’m lucky in that I have stable employment, a home, and a good family. I’m ahead of the game compared to many people my age, which is why I am the way I am politically. Climate change and looming totalitarian fascism are other reasons why I’m the way I am. Man, this world has a lot going on to make you pull the hair right out of your head, doesn’t it? I guess I don’t have to worry about my body mass, but if I do, it’s something that’s worth working for, right? Perhaps it’s a good metaphor for the state of the world itself.
I could’ve self-corrected a lot earlier in life by not relying on fast food as sustenance when I was left to my own devices. I could have pushed people around me to serve healthier choices, and failing that, I could have prepared my own meals. I could have always kept my portion sizes to recommended serving size and one portion per meal. Then, I could be in maintenance mode right now. The governments and corporations of the world all could have reduced emissions and found greener ways to exist, and there would be millennia of future ahead of humanity instead of decades at best without extreme action. Human nature is slave to inertia and convenience, I suppose. Perhaps that’s the big thing that needs to change for everyone. I don’t know how that change comes about on a global scale.
Lord knows that one person changing their habits won’t mean a lick of difference for everyone else. Maybe doing it for my family and myself is good enough for a comfortable rest-of-life scenario. There’s still going to be the helplessness of watching the world go down because the people running the show are too addicted to their own inertia and convenience to do anything about it. Maybe the part of where giving a shit can be contagious is if people started supporting holding the people in charge accountable for their misgivings. A radical thought, I know. A person can dream.
Photo Credits: TH
I appreciated this, and I totally relate--if not the thyroid issues, the weight struggles and hypochondria really hit home for me.