My daughter walked into my room yesterday and I started to cry. Then I kind of laughed while crying at the same time. Was it Dolly Parten in Steel Magnolias who said, "Laughter through tears is the best emotion"?

Some years ago my thyroid freaked out. Actually, I never felt freaky. A run of the mill blood test during a checkup showed I was running high. Alarmingly high. So high the clinicians couldn't figure out why I had no symptoms. But thyroid issues run through the women in my family, I'm always tested, and no one was terribly shocked to hear mine was off. Though my sister, to her credit, made me repeat it three or four times. "High, they said your numbers were high?" Let's just say, I don't exactly look hyperthyroid...

So I trotted over to the fanciest hospital in this state, redid all the tests, confirmed my hyperthyroid diagnosis, and got a treatment plan. Through all of this I was sort of stoic, I guess. Let's just say I was stoic and graceful and taking it in stride. I've had friends with much worse diagnoses lately. The doctor told me they would have to remove my thyroid and put me on thyroxin. Right. I hardly blinked. She said they could do surgery. I was there when they wheeled my sister out of that surgery. Uh, no thanks. "Or," she said, "we can destroy your gland with radiation, there won't be any damage to the rest of your body, and that's that." I said, without blinking, I'd have the radiation. The doctor was pleased. I made the correct choice.

She went on to explain how it would go, the steps, what happens, etc, "then you go home and you can't touch or be near anyone for about three days." Hold the fucking phone. What do you mean three days? I can't touch my children for THREE DAYS? Right there, I burst into tears--the whole shabang with sobbing and snot and hiccuping. The doctor, who is as cold a bitch as I've ever met in my life, was totally flummoxed by my tears.

Sometimes I think what I do isn't all that important or challenging these days. Then I get a little cold with the tiniest little fever and have to spend the briefest few days laying bed. My husband absolutely picks up my slack. He's pure gold. The kitchen is kept clean and food is lovingly prepared and served. But I'm unable to do my job. What I do. I'm unable to be there for my kids. And my daughter walks into the room and I burst into tears. At the same time I begin to laugh. Because I love my children so much. And I am so lucky.

As for that bitch-three-days-doctor and her diagnosis, it turns out I only had something called thyroiditis. It resolved spontaneously. I never had to have any kind of surgery, radiation, or otherwise.

I'm on the mend, y'all. Thanks for the well wishes! :o)