I couldn't have wished for better...

"I couldn't have wished for better!!" I told my roommate in shocked disbelief. "This kind of good luck just doesn't happen to me." I have an appointment on April 6th with my old endocrinologist in Seattle. She was just promoted to the head of neuroendocrinology at one of the hospitals where I used to be a patient. Talk about hitting the lottery! This is the woman who saw my disease go into remission. She was the one who worked for a year to get me to see an neuroendocrinologist in the first place. And now she's the head of the department?! Thank you for your prayers and well wishing, as they obviously have worked.

This blows my mind. When I say I couldn't have wished for this, I mean I really couldn't... not and still like myself in the morning. To make this happen, I would have had to find a way to make someone lose their job, just to put her in their place. I simply wouldn't do such a thing. I wouldn't even be able to pray for such a thing. But it's happened of its own accord anyway, and I am the lucky benefactor. Holy cow...

It's going to be seeing an old friend. I bet she's going to be so proud of all the weight I've lost. She never knew me skinny. She only had the pictures to go on. We even tried to get the weight off with phentermine, an ingredient in the now infamous phen-phen, but it stubbornly stayed. I bet it will be good for her to learn it was the prednisone dose I was on at the time. Oh, and I'll be able to got T3 replacement again because she's up-to-date on information like that. I'm absolutely giddy with excitement.

This is such a relief after dealing with that q**** at CU. This isn't a doctor who has to go on someone else's lab results. She was there. She ran the tests herself. She witnessed my transformation first-hand. I don't have to prove anything to her. I don't have to plead my case. She won't doubt me because she's the one who diagnosed me. I'm coming home, in a way.

There are many logistics to think about. I have to get from here to there. I have to stay there. I have to come back home. None of those are simple or easy decisions. My body has some very particular ideas on how it likes to be treated. Being thrust up to 30,000-ft in a pressurized cabin isn't generally on the list. Financial costs are another issue. The plane ticket alone will be at least $200, and that's a lot of money to me these days. I used to be able to spend that on dinner. Not often, but I could do it without it hurting. Nowadays, that's a month's supply of food if I'm careful.

Still... the work in front of me is an opportunity. Yeah, it's scary and looks overwhelming. Travel is a big deal for my body. I have a lot of careful planning to do. I can't just rely on Plan A. I need to set up safety measures in case life decides to do something else. After all, as John Lennon put it, "Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans." I have a lot to think (read: worry) about, but it's so much better than having no options left.

And I couldn't have wished for better. *squee!!*