Regularly, I embark on hiking adventures with an intriguing companion, the Mad Hatter. She and I have grown quite close, our bond forged in a whirlwind of excitement and fear, often intertwined, leading to a fluttering anxiety. This past summer, our closeness was tested by a rock slide at Medicine Bow Peak. Struggling to keep our balance while navigating rock bed switchbacks, Mad Hatter, lost in the moment, was inevitably the cause of our predicament.
There’s an unpredictable nature about the Mad Hatter. One minute her mind is crystal clear, the next it’s clouded by a thick fog, distorting our thinking and impairing our decision-making abilities. Sometimes she’s indefatigable, showing no signs of fatigue or breathlessness, and then moments later she’s resting, encapsulating the essence of Sleeping Beauty. Unpredictability is a trademark of the Mad Hatter, especially when it comes to forgetfulness and confusion.
My everyday life is intertwined with the Mad Hatter. She’s an integral part of me; after all, I have Hashimoto’s thyroiditis, also known as Mad Hatter’s disease. Its name alludes to its volatile nature and how much it affects daily life, especially considering the myriad of bodily functions controlled by the thyroid.
When I became a young mom, I noticed my hair and nails turning brittle and dry. Constant exhaustion became my reality, and though doctors attributed these symptoms to new motherhood, it was only the tip of the iceberg. At age 23, my body was in constant pain, my joints ached relentlessly. Initial tests for Lupus returned negative, leading to a diagnosis of fibromyalgia due to unexplained elevated inflammation levels.
Despite these challenges, I stayed committed to my health and wellness. I continued to work out, maintain a strict diet, and even hiked throughout my pregnancy with my child, Raylan, nestled in a carrier on my back. However, my life began to unravel after having my second child, Wyatt. Anxiety attacks became commonplace, depression engulfed me, and I was losing hair by the handfuls.
I soldiered on, hiking through pain and fatigue for the sake of my mental health and my children’s well-being. I visited the doctor once again, only to be given depression medications due to an incorrect assumption of post-partum depression. However, upon changing doctors and insisting on a thorough thyroid panel and antibodies test, I was finally diagnosed with Hashimoto’s.
Although I hoped this would be a turning point towards recovery, it was clear that the damage was already done and irreversible. I was told my thyroid was dying, and my body was attacking it, something that was overlooked due to the post-partum label attached to me.
In October 2017, two months into my medication, I started feeling better. But by November, chest flutters forced me to curtail any strenuous activity, including hiking. December brought severe chest pains, akin to heart attack symptoms, sidelining my hiking completely.
So now, Mad Hatter and I are on hiatus, waiting patiently for her to regain her composure.
Raising Outsiders 