Let me begin by saying that none of my co-workers, friends, or my family members would describe me as a patient person.  I also think it is safe to say that I am not prone to mental instability or downright lying about something in order to get attention.  (Between my three kids, a great husband and 23 hardworking employees, I get just about all the attention one gal can stand.)  So when three gastroenterologists, two OB/GYNs and seven emergency room physicians tried to tell me I was either a) depressed, b) desperately unhappy with my life and looking for attention or c) really sick and they could not figure it out (instead of just admitting that was the case, they were going to fall back on a) or b)), I was reaching my high frustration point fast.  I know I am not crazy, and I do not care how many letters you have behind your name, I was not going to get shaken up by someone who was implying my illnesses were all due to stress.  The funny thing is that I told all 12 of the doctors that I really felt that my hormones were causing the problems, and I know I do not have three heads but that is really the way they looked at me when I said this. 

Before I go much further, let me say that I have respect for those who choose to go into the medical profession (this is spoken by a woman not only squeamish at the sight of blood but known to avoid hospitals at all costs, like a phobia),  I have both friends and family (ok, ex-family but don’t read anything into that) that have made this choice and the world is a better place for it, but could someone please tell me when I became an idiot about my own body?  I know I did not choose medical school, but at last check, my IQ was not too low, either.  Let’s just say my little patience problem was tested to the point of seething repressed anger spilling out onto my family and friends.  I am a Type A controlling personality and you can probably imagine some of the pain I was causing.  The sad part was I could not seem to control it and “when Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy”, and since I am the boss at work this little saying applied there as well.

My journey to Hotze started a year after my third child was born when I screamed at the doc to “tie em up while you’re in there”, because I was not going to be pregnant and 40.  (Needless to say I never got the brochure on the possible hormonal side affects of tubal ligations, but I digress. . .)  I was 37 years old and started having recurring problems with insomnia, and maintaining my weight was becoming more and more difficult.  I had that ‘fat feeling’ everyday without any relief.   Needless to say my libido left in such a hurry and I was being such a pain that my husband probably thought I was having an affair (and you ladies who have seen him know I can’t improve on what I have at home.).  Then it was like my digestive tract suddenly stopped working and it would go to ‘sleep’ for days on end, then after it ‘woke up’ I would experience the most intense, unrelenting abdominal pain imaginable.  

It was the third trip to the ER when they found the ovarian cyst.  I think they thought I was showing up for the valium (not that I didn’t get a lot of work done while in those little rooms waiting on hubby to bring the Chinese food).  So I went back to the OB/GYN and I was convinced she would save me.  Well, she was not too happy to see me.  It appears that her life mission was delivering babies and not dealing with middle-aged hormone issues.  Of course she would not say that.  She just gave me the patient ‘freeze-out’ once she figured out I was not dying of cancer and the cyst appeared to be due to a lack of progesterone!  She sent me home with some progesterone pills the size of my palm and told me to take them at night to shrink the cyst and to try not to throw up.  The cyst did not go away, so she grabbed the laparoscope and explored.  After surgery, I was told my pain was due to surgical adhesions (3 c-sections) and endometriosis and all was cleaned up now, so go home.  I asked for more progesterone pills, but was told I was too young for them.  I went home to grow another cyst and threw my birth control pills down the drain (I could not see taking estrogen when too much of it seemed to be the problem).

After the pain returned, I complained to all my friends and went back to see the OB/GYN who really just wanted me to go away now that I was finished birthing babies.  I asked her to check my thyroid and told her I just knew I was swimming in a sea of estrogen and could she help?  She ordered a blood test and walked away while I was still talking.  Now, I have given a few clues about my personality type, and let’s just say she knew I did not take that as very respectful behavior…she told me to see a gastro.  Meanwhile, my menstrual cycle was in complete revolt. I was considering going back on the pill just to regulate it, but knew I was more depressed on it than off it, so I ran to Whole Foods Market and bought a tube of progesterone cream which helped some. 

The doctor called to tell me that the blood tests showed I was on the low end but still in the ‘normal’ range for thyroid hormone and that maybe I should consider talking to someone about my stress level (I thought about telling her to step out of her moving car and just run over herself, but refrained and I mean this in all Christian love).  The abdominal bloating and pain continued along with the irregular heavy periods and moods that no human should have to endure.  My skin also erupted in acne for the first time in my life, and since I am a ‘peaches and cream’ complexion girl, this was devastating to me.   The emergency folks knew me by name and the gastros (there were several over the course of a year) were prescribing endoscopies and colonoscopies.  Did I mention I hate hospitals?  Well I hate invasive procedures even more.  Yeah, you guessed it, they found nothing. I was approaching 40 by now, and I was a complete wreck with no sex life.

Last spring, I received an invite to a party at a friend’s house and went on one of my better days.  When I made some crack about dying of estrogen overload and the lack of ability to get a doctor to acknowledge it, a lady I did not know piped in and asked me where I lived (Katy) and then told me about the Hotze Clinic saying it changed her life.  At this point, another gal mentioned that someone in her family had gone to high school with Dr. Hotze and the whole family was strange.  Of course I was intrigued at this point and asked her if she thought he was a quack.   She replied in the affirmative, but being as her nickname is ‘Crazy Mary’, I decided to not put much stock in it. I was sold by the first gal and announced loudly that it sounded like the man had some sense and made a mental note to call the clinic the next day.  

The closest I ever got to Dr. Hotze himself was when I was getting some prescriptions filled and he walked past me at the clinic in Katy and smiled.  I noted that he wore nice shoes and seemed energetic.   My appointment was made with Dr. Phillips.  My first thought upon seeing her was what does a 15 year old know about middle age hormones?  However, she proved to be wise beyond her years.  She sat and listened to my diatribe for hours and never once looked at me like I had three heads, or even two for that matter.  Alas, I found I was not alone and many other women had similar stories.  So I finally got my progesterone prescription and my sex drive back.  I did not realize how foggy my brain was until I got the Armour Thyroid.   One pill and I was barking out orders just like my old self! The Cortisol kept me from falling asleep at my desk and all my depression lifted within a week.  Wow, why don’t more doctors know about this and who did I need to call?  Now I will admit that the yeast -free thing was a nightmare proposition of sorts.  I am an avid cook and like to cook with wine.  Sometimes I do not put wine in the food, but going with no vino was going to be hell with the trip to the Italian wine country coming up.  Dr. Phillips worked with me on when to start the diet and I was less bloated after being on it for a month.  No more severe gastro pains in my life thanks to the thyroid, progesterone and Nystatin. 

My life is still stressful with the career and the kids but I am handling it all much better and loving every minute of it.  Yes, I still have some rough days over the new line in my face, and I have been known to shout from the bathroom in the morning, “When the hell did that start sagging?”  You get my point.   Aging stinks, but the alternative is worse.  I figure you might as well feel great while the package deteriorates.  Plus, there is always plastic surgery!   I just hope that I have enough votes to win the trip to Napa so I can grow more yeast.   Being as I alienated most all my friends while I was suffering my progesterone deficiency and low thyroid condition, this may be difficult.  Thanks for helping me get my life back!!!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 21st, 2007 at 4:00 pm and is filed under Success Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.