Would you care for a slice of hip bone?

I want to say this once, to get it out of my system and then move past it: I am pissed -- really effing pissed -- that people from work have some weird compulsion to read this blog. When I found out, I shut it down to invitation-only access, but have since opened it back up again. The point of the blog is not only for me to journal but also for me to connect with unexpected people, which making it private took away from me. On the other hand it was a good wake-up call, making me think twice before writing just any old thing for all the world to read. Done, moving on...

I want to donate bone marrow. Why? because it sounds awesome to have someone chip away at my hip bone and cause me agony. And then there's the added perk of maybe saving or prolonging someone's life. You can't donate if you have Lyme's Disease, and when I found that out I read about the symptoms and realized I must surely have it. It's easy to fall into that trap -- I could probably convince myself that I have testicular cancer too. So I went and got tested for Lyme's, and just for good measure my doc also ran some other tests. No Lyme's, but as it turns out I do test hypothyroid. I just had my thyroid tested 9 months ago at my annual physical just weeks after Delma was born. But apparently this is a typical post-partum thing that can show up within a year after giving birth. It'll probably correct itself, but until then I'm on medication. And now that I know this, I'm seeing very clearly some symptoms I've developed over the past few months that were actually becoming really barely manageable. All sorts of things are so clear now, that I'm amazed by how awful I was feeling but not really noticing because all I was trying to do was cope with getting from one day to the next.