So it's been a week and a day exactly since I started taking Synthroid, the super-cool synthetic thyroid hormone, and I must say, for such a teensy little pill, it has already effected some big changes in my life. I can ride my recumbent bike without nodding off. That horrid mental fog is lifting, so that I can form coherent thoughts with no effort (for the last few months, playing sudoku was totally beyond me). And the numbers on the scale, for the first time in over a year, are not moving up, but down.
I felt so good the other day I mowed the yard. Now, this is misleading, because it needed to be done, but the great part was that I enjoyed it. I didn't feel like pushing the mower and taking that next step was going to kill me; it felt pretty good, until the pollen had me snotting like a crying toddler.
The bad part is that in my overzealous need to GET THINGS DONE, I tried to replace the old gnawed up blades with some spiffy new ones. I don't know what went wrong, or where, but the mower runs like someone's dragging it over rocks. Oh, and did I mention the billowing smoke? Yeah, it's blowing like a fucking smokestack. And I'm no scientician...but that can't be good.
Circumstances around Manson Homestead are rapidly improving; Sid has reached the halfway point for his deployement, and I feel like a whole new person. Now if only I could do something about the box elders...