Submitted by megan on Mon, 09/15/2008 - 18:20
Shelley read my Quiet Times post just before we were to head out to the dress up birthday party. She called me.
"Are you okay to go? You sound so tired. Are you sure? It's fine if you don't. Have you been taking your iron?"
She'd asked me that a couple of times before, that last question, and rightly so, because I have been quiet and tired for a little while. Mostly putting it down to moving. And not getting enough sleep, which I don't, which is bad for both my brain and my skin, but I don't seem to be able to fit in all the things and people I want to see and do and get 8 hours of sleep besides.
I was convinced it wasn't the iron. See, after my bloodwork in July, you might remember that the doctor's office called me to say my iron was slightly low and I should get it tested again. I did. They didn't call back. I assumed it was fine, and went about my business, albeit in an increasingly slow fashion.
Today I walked into the doctor's office, sat down. My doctor looked at my file and said "Ah, you're here about your iron."
"Um, no. The second test wasn't fine? "
She was visibly shocked. "It was lower than the first test. It was 8, your first test was 17."
"What's it supposed to be?"
Luckily, this is a problem easily fixed. I'll take iron pills for 6 months and get re-tested. Apparently, the iron kicks in after a few days and your pep will start pepping once more.
Today, now that I know I'm tired because of the iron, now that I know it'll be better in a few days, that it's not something I have to live with, well, fucking hell, I'm feeling twice as worn as I'd normally be this time of day. It's made me realize how much tired I've been powering through and pushing aside because I just didn't know I had the choice.