In typical early Midwest, mid-March fashion, it was freezing outside. The kind of cold that requires layers of blankets, especially for a girl like me – – a girl who has always run cold.

The Hunk lay beside me, a furnace as usual, with all the warm pajamas and all the blankets. He was snuggled up, seeking warmth the late winter withheld.

Me? I was sweating through my sports bra and shorts, completely uncovered. The sheets beneath me were soaked.

“Something is wrong with me,” I said. For 10 straight days or so, my Fitbit had reported an increase in my resting heart rate. I was shedding weight–and hair. I could blame the hair loss on postpartum shedding and my newest little snuggly baby boy helped keep me warm. But I knew something was wrong.

“Go see the doctor,” The Hunk replied sleepily. Surely he was aware that my people just don’t go to the doctor. But he was right. So, sometime in the next few weeks, I finally got around to making an appointment.

My doctor, who I rarely saw, listened to my concerns carefully. But, since my heart rate was still in the “normal” range, she encouraged me to relax, that there was probably nothing wrong with me. Besides, she said, those fitness trackers aren’t always a reliable indicator of health. To be safe, she ordered an EKG and took a bit of blood.

For an EKG, you basically have to get completely naked so they can attach the sensors. So, I shed most of my clothes and they proceeded with the test. When it was over, I noticed that my clothes were soaked and cold. The freezing office had turned my sweat-soaked clothing cold, but I didn’t even notice how cold the office was. An absolute first.

And when she called me that next week, she admittedly ate her words, saying, “I’m going to have to take back what I said about the Fitbit.” My results: A normal EKG and blood work indicating hyperthyroidism.

I was given a referral to an endocrinologist and was prescribed a beta blocker. After further blood testing, I was diagnosed with Grave’s Disease.

If ever there was a disease that sounds scary, it’s Grave’s.

The endocrinologist explained treatment options–starting with medication. Since I was nursing my little snug, they encouraged me to call the pediatrician to be sure my medication wouldn’t pass onto him. After being cleared, I began Methimazole. And after a couple of appointments, we found the right dosage and stopped the beta blocker.

I quickly felt completely normal again. Aside from taking medicine every day, my life was completely normal.

Whew. Relief.

In my research, I learned that Grave’s Disease is caused when the body’s immune system identifies the thyroid as the enemy to the body, so it attacks the thyroid, much like it would attack a cold or anything that would harm the body.  This attack makes the thyroid overreact, which can result in a whole host of problems.

But during the appointments following, my endocrinologist began encouraging me to have my thyroid removed or take radioactive iodine so my thyroid would be killed. As a result, I’d have to take thyroid replacement medications for the rest of my life.  I had so many questions and began scouring the internet for answers. I found support groups, forums, and websites.  I found out that some people go into remission–about 30% or something.  I read about people who had symptoms so severe that they almost died. I read about people who were given the radioactive iodine only to have more problems come up following treatment. I found tons of answers to my immediate questions.

The question I couldn’t find an answer to: How does this recommended treatment–removing the thyroid–solve the problem? Sure, it’d get rid of the organ being victimized by Grave’s, but it wouldn’t end Grave’s itself.  I’m no medical professional, but none of this made sense to me.

Ugh.

One day, I was visiting with a friend of mine who I hadn’t seen in a while. We were catching up and I shared with her about my health issues and frustrations accompanying them.

That’s when she recommended her functional medicine doctor. It sounded too crunchy for me. I’m no health nut. Granola? Not for me. I’m not part of that subculture of people who believe that eating healthy is actually a solution for illness.  Totally not who I am.

I continued to see my endocrinologist. Once I finished nursing my little snug, my doctor seemed to think that I would need to undergo the standard treatment–radioactive iodine–and that I’d probably be okay to have more children afterward. And I’d probably be fine after treatment. Every time he suggested this, I put it off, stating that I’m hoping to go into remission.

He didn’t relay any hope that there was any way I could go into remission.  It seemed the only interest he had was killing or removing my thyroid. In my gut, this did not make sense to me.

And it still doesn’t.

Anyway, I reached out to my friend again to ask for the contact information of her functional medicine doctor and I set up an appointment.  After a consultation, more blood tests, and sharing some of my other labs with him, Dr. Lewis suggested that I may have Leaky Gut Syndrome, which is when the layers of the small intestine separate more than they should, letting in things that it shouldn’t and then the immune system gets sort of paranoid and starts attacking other things, including parts of the body.  His explanation was longer than that, but that’s the gist.

The possible solution? Well, a few supplements, probiotics, and an extremely restrictive diet to help my body heal. We’ll also add probiotics and another gut treatment medicine while I am on this diet. After 4+ weeks of that diet, we start reimplementing things into my diet slowly–like, really slowly–to see what type of food irritates my intestines, encouraging a leaky gut.  During this process, my gut should return to normal permeability and my immune system should stop attacking my thyroid, which should lead to remission.  My doctor expects that I should be all better–in remission–in 90 days or so. NINETY DAYS! What!? That’s amazing!

Guys, this diet is extreme.  Look it up; it’s called the Autoimmune Protocol. Sometimes, it’s called the Paleo Autoimmune Protocol. At any rate, there aren’t very many foods that I like on the list.

And, starting tomorrow, I will be on this diet.  I can’t explain how nervous I am about it–how anxious I am and how much I’m dreading the boring food I’ll be eating. This weekend, I went on a farewell tour of my favorite foods–fried chicken, all the dairy, pasta, and other foods.  I felt like I was saying goodbye to my best friend–like Jes was moving to Japan again.

If you’ve read to this point, you are either nosy or you care about what’s going on in my life. Ha! Either is fine.

As all of this was happening, I chose not to tell many people about it.  At this stage, though, it’s going to be difficult to hide that something is going on because I’ll have to turn down almost every bit of food offered to me. Some of you might want to know how to support me.  Here are some things I’ve been thinking about, some of them may seem more direct than others:

• Bear with me as I basically can’t eat out right now–and when I can I’m going to be that girl who asks a million questions about the ingredients of the food and such. I’m also going to be that girl about whether or not I can eat at a certain restaurant.
• If you disagree with my choice, just keep your mouth closed.  I promise I’ll ask you for your opinion if I want it. In fact, I probably won’t bring it up much because some people interpret the bringing up of a topic as an invitation to share opinions.
• I’m not a fan of platitudes in many ways, but platitudes in this realm aren’t really needed.  Just give me a high five if you want to encourage me. “You’ve got this” is fine or “Wow, that does sound tough!” is acceptable.
• Be understanding if I don’t attend food-based gatherings.  This is going to be hard; being around food I can’t eat for social purposes will be nearly impossible for me.
• Whole Foods gift cards are acceptable!
• I’m sure many people have advice they’d like to share; I am covered in that area.  My friend Lisa is supportive and is following the protocol and has been for months and months. She knows how it works and is being WONDERFUL about giving advice and support and telling me what kind of chocolate I can eat! I am so thankful for her.
• Forgive me in advance if I’m never talking about anything but myself and this crazy diet.  There are so many new things I’m doing these days and it’s overwhelming as I make the transition. I’m going to have to learn how to turn off the self-centered self-care to a new level. I’ve always been kind of selfish, so there’s that to consider.
• Pray that this diet works. This is really the best way you can support me. I believe in prayer and would be honored to know that you are legitimately praying for me.  Just don’t tell me you’re praying for me if you’re not, cuz that’s not cool.

I’ll probably think of more ways people can support me. For now, here’s where to begin.