As it turns out, most building managers have set their elevators to something called "door dwell," a disabling feature on the "door close" button enforcing a 2-4 second delay on the time it takes the elevator doors to close once passengers have boarded.  Passengers thank goodness for this feature because it saves their limbs, and managers thank goodness because it saves them from lawsuits against their company.  I like this feature.  It enables me to madly hit the "door close" button without hurting anyone.  I feel a sense of powerlessness in my life, and the little things help.  Sometimes.  Sometimes, they delay dealing with the inevitable.

Yes, I have an anxiety disorder.  For someone like me, everything in life today is cause for anxiety.  It takes me an inordinate amount of time to carry out my daily errands, because I worry that I have forgotten something before I have left the house, or that perhaps I will want to complete one more task while I am out and I should have thought of bringing that certain something with me that would be required.  I have what I call my "out day," when I make ridiculous plans in order to eschew other time consuming plans, so that I can calm my inner voice that says, "you should be doing better with your time right now."  I think that ultimately this anxiety is about a deep concern that I have that I am not connected with my true self:  the real motives for my work, life, or anything, have failed me.  I feel an emptiness that I know is getting in the way of just about everything.  At one time, I was sure that this all came from emotional constraints.  I was forced to decide on a career to young, too fast.  My twenties were a big blur.  Big questions, not enough time. Now-- even though I know that this emptiness is from both emotional and physical contraints, it does not make it any easier.

I became very sick 4 years ago.  Not terminally ill or anything.  Just extremely tired.  Dragging.  Okay, I couldn't function.  My hair was falling out. I was mixing up my words, and slurring my speech. I was showing the beginnings of periodontal disease, even though I take exceptional care of my teeth and gums.  I was seeing enormous cysts (acne) all over my face for the first time since I was a teenager.  And I was beginning to get hives. HIVES.  I had to go to the emergency room twice (ala Jennifer Lopez in Monster in Law).  Not funny at all!  These symptoms got in the way of teaching. I had to stop.  I faced the questions from the kids, and the parents.  No, I am not dying!  I am fuzzy. Frazzled. Confused. So tired that I cannot, with all of my will, get myself up before 2 in the afternoon.

I found out that I had autoimmune thyroid disease (Hashimoto's Disease). Not easy. Getting to the diagnosis, I mean.  Having Hashimoto's Disease means taking medication for the rest of my life.  I'll live. 

But for some reason, we seem to be lacking a clear understanding in this country of what it is that defines hypothyroidism.  I went from doctor to doctor to doctor complaining of what were clearly thyroid symptoms, and was given the same tests over and over and over again.  It was not until I found out that there was a NEW way that doctors had begun reading the tests since 2003, that it occurred to me I should be seeing a doctor who had actually been keeping up with the latest research in his own field (not all of them do).  Who was I to think that a top rated researching physician from one of the major universities near my home wouldn't know best how to treat me? He didn't.  His colleague didn't.  And I did not like being told that I was perfectly fine, and to go home and get some more rest. 

The doctor I found now is truly exceptional.  He knows what he is doing, and he put me on the right medication.  It is truly amazing what the right medication can do for a person.  A week into taking the right thyroid hormone, I felt like a new person-- until the next problem started.  There had to be another problem.  This IS me, afterall.

I had been on birth control for over a decade in order to regulate my periods, and beginning thyroid medication changed my hormonal cycle.  I had to change my birth control pills to a different brand.  As luck would have it, as soon as I changed brands, I began experiencing pain in my legs.  The pain began to be persistent in my left leg, but I never associated it with my new birth control pills.  In fact, I had also begun a new cholesterol medication at the same time, and my pharmacist said that the cholesterol medication could cause leg cramps.  For a few days, I attributed a charlie horse pain-in my leg- to a cholesterol drug, and dangerously walked around trying to rub it and strectch it out.  Soon, it was in two spots.  It was in my leg muscle and behind my thigh.  The pain was unbearable. I made an emergency appointment with my doctor, who then made an emergency appointment with a radiologist, and within hours, I was admitted to the hospital. 

I had a clot.  It had traveled, and it was continuing to travel FAST.  The emergency room nurse gave me an injection of morphine and another injection in my stomach of a clot busting drug.  The treatment would be more of these stomach injections, a year of coumadin, frequent blood checking, and careful attention to NOT bumping that leg.  Blood analysis at the hospital found that I had a rare blood disorder: factor V leiden deficiency.  No more birth control pills for me.  Ever.  Amazing that I lived to see this day.

Working was out of the question for a while. So, I took some time off.  I went back to school and earned some credits.  I got a couple of certificates.  As they say, "Got the T-Shirt."  But, eh. I wasn't ready to go back to teaching and I am still not. I am not sure what I am doing with my life for - perhaps- the first time.  The powerlessness is overwhelming. I feel impatient, like I do when I want to hit the "door close" button on that elevator!  Knowing that my favorite elevator button is set on a time delay, I might just have to rethink my philosophy here.  I certainly asked my doctors to rethink the way they treated me.  Why wouldn't I rethink the way I treat myself?   Things cannot move along any faster by pushing a button, human beings beings are not open and shut cases on any level, and some of life's biggest questions, like "who am I, really?" cannot be answered in the same time it takes to figure out what I want for breakfast.  I need a little "door dwell" for a while. I might take some time to even step out. 

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