I’d reach for something, try to pick it up, and it would slip. Dropping things and incoordination or loss of balance became a daily occurrence. I need more rest, the baby has been keeping me up at night. It’s just that I need sleep. She was only a few months old, and convinced it was sleep-deprivation–and part of it probably was– I continued on. Then…
Scenario #1: It’s a good idea to prep supper. However imperfect my kitchen is, I give it my best shot with lots o Busy family, busy evenings, call for some planning ahead. I placed a pot of water and vegetables on the back burner of the stovetop. Usually beginning on high, I would turn the pot down to simmer after a few minutes. About a half an hour later I heard the smoke detector beeping in the kitchen. I had gone upstairs and completely forgotten about the cooking. My feet thumped off the uncarpeted wooden staircase as I briskly brought myself downstairs. Retrieving the pan just in time, I avoided a fire.
Scenario #2: I was giving the baby a bath. Steadying her with one arm I maneuvered the soapy washcloth with the other hand. Lightly scrubbing her back, she was slightly leaned forward. I gathered clean water soaked up in the washcloth, and like a good mother I gently squeezed a rinsing flow onto her back, washing the suds away. How relaxing this must be for her just before bedtime.
Then I suddenly realized, her face had leaned into the tub water! As I was carefully washing her, she had lowered her neck down fully planting her face under. I did not feel like a good mother at all now! As quickly as I noticed it, I had pulled her up, and she began to gasp and cough. My heart sunk, and I talked softly and briskly to her. Are you alright?! I am so sorry! It’s okay, breathe. She did. She was alright, she was breathing…but now I was not alright or breathing. What is wrong with me? My chest tightened. It was an honest mistake, but of course I scolded myself, and felt like a horrible mom.
Scenario #3: The dryer wouldn’t start. That’s just great, another thing around here is broken! I pressed the button. To double-check the door, I opened it, and my pointer finger pushed the little springy lever in the dryer opening. That latch seems to work alright. Shutting the door, I tried again and pushed the button on the top of the dryer once more. Nothing happened.
Open dryer door. Shut. Push button. Silence. I called my husband. Hon, the dryer won’t start, I have to call the repairman. He told me to wait until he got home and looked at it.
In my typical “let’s just get this thing done” way, I get on the phone basically as my husband walks in the door to look at the dryer. I jump the gun. So I’m sitting there on a tan chair by the phone stand, legs crossed, looking out towards the back porch where my husband stands inspecting the machine. The repairman on the other end of the telephone says hello, and I begin to explain to him that our dryer suddenly quit. As I’m explaining, I hear my husband say, “Hon, uh…the dryer just started up. It’s working.” What? Sir, I’m sorry but my husband says the dryer’s working. Tongue-in-cheek he says, “Tell him to stop that.” After hanging up, I walk to the back porch baffled at how it effortlessly kicked on for my husband.
What did you do? How’d you make it work? He says, “Uh, I just pressed the start button.”
Oh. My. Word. Let’s do a little math here. Using an average, and not scientifically documented…11 years of marriage multiplied by usage of 5 loads per week, times 52 weeks in a year = 2860 usages of that machine. And during those 11 years of marriage I had a 50/50 chance of getting it right out of two buttons: one on the left and another on the right. Never before had I chosen wrong before this date.
Yes, that day I was pressing the settings dial, which will not turn the dryer on at all.
What does brain fog look like to the outsider? Like you are losing it. What did it feel like to me during those months of an undiagnosed Hashimoto’s disease flare up that also included joint pain, shakiness, extreme fatigue and irritated bowels? Scary. Frustrating. Lost.
Thankfully, that brain fog has passed from earlier this year when the weather was still thawing out from wintertime. A diagnosis was achieved in summer on 7-21-16 and I’m almost 4 weeks into adjusting to thyroid meds (Praise the Lord!). In addition I am prepping to start the AIP or Autoimmune Protocol for next month to address the disease itself at its core.
Brain fog is no joke.