One year (er, and then some) post-adrenalectomy.

Hello, happy 2013, and apologies for my lack of follow-through here. My one-year anniversary of my adrenalectomy came and went, and – life got in the way. Sick cat, crazy job, the usual stuff.

But, I’m fine, really really fine, one year and three months after having my offending adrenal 86’ed. Blood pressure jumps around a bit but stays in the 118/70-130/85ish range; the higher days are generally thanks to the copious amounts of Sudafed that I have to consume due to a deviated septum. I’ve known I’ve had it since I was about 13 and I’ve been ignoring it in hopes it will go away; we all know that never works out. This year, I may have to give it some attention. But I digress… As for other bloodwork, I haven’t had any done. None. With my doctor’s approval, I’m proceeding based on symptoms – if my potassium was wonky, I’d have muscle problems, I’d have an irregular heartbeat. I know how those feel and I’m happy to say I’ve had none.

It seems a lot of people had a lousy year in 2012, but I have to say – it was the first year in at least 13 years that I didn’t have a mysterious illness (AKA a teeny little tumor that was hell-bent on killing me), so no matter how bad things got, I was constantly grateful that I had my health. And things got bad – job uncertainty and the death of my feline companion of 15 years – but I handled it far better than I could have when that tumor was still with me. Gone was the anxiety, the insulin resistance, the headaches, and for the most part, the inability to eat without getting really sick afterward. When you have all of that going on, keeping things together both mentally and emotionally certainly becomes difficult – I surprised myself at how level-headed I was able to remain since I no longer had the tumor doing my thinking for me!

Physically I’ve bounced back from the surgery quite well over the past year. My left side still has some visible scarring, and probably some internal scar tissue from when I ripped my stitches – most of the time I’m fine, but every now and then I get pain if I move in certain ways. This is usually in yoga; while I am in no way competitive about it, I’ve been practicing for a long time and have been… a bit aggressive in trying to get my strength back. My left side is still much weaker than my right, but I’ve gone from barely being able to stand without the support of a wall, to being called front and center by my instructor to demonstrate asanas. I’d call that progress!

All of that to say – no, still no regrets about having gone the surgical route. Time will tell, of course, but my first year of living tumor-free has been an amazing gift; more than I ever could have imagined.

ETA: one more point I failed to address originally – weight. Before the surgery, I struggled to keep my weight at a somewhat-healthy 125 pounds (remember, I’m only 5’2″). At one point, it was as high as 173 pounds; after that I stopped counting. Before I was sick, I had never weighed over 112. The day of my surgery, I weighed 122; within a week of coming home I was down to 107, which was really a little *too* low. Once I started eating a bit more, I hit 110, and have stayed in the 110-115 range ever since. For the record, that is the longest I have maintained the same weight since my earliest onset of PA symptoms 14 years ago; prior to surgery, I fluctuated within the 120-140 range. Today’s weigh-in: 112, same as in my twenties. And I’m almost fifty.

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