So in 2011, for the first time in a few years, my main reason for going home was not to see my endocrinologist, but to see my gyno. I saw them both in December last year – cortisol levels are completely, totally, wonderfully normal, and I would have to wait for results from my gyno. He emailed me a couple of days to say that everything is normal. Hooray!

‘Normal’ is such a beautiful word.

Also, if you happen to be male and/or squeamish: sorry.

I have never had regular periods without the help of drugs. They started when I was ten and a half, and up until the age of twenty-two, they were a constant in my life. As in, they were there every single day, without a break. When I was twenty-two, a gynaecologist (different to the one I see now) diagnosed me with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), told me I needed to lose weight, and put me on the contraceptive pill to regulate the periods. This was towards the end of 2007. When I saw him a few months later for a follow-up consultation, he asked me why I hadn’t lost weight like he told me to, but in fact gained weight. (I was about 56kg when I first saw him, about 58kg at the follow-up.)

I didn’t go back to that gyno, and the Pill seemed to do the work it was supposed to. And then in December 2008 I had a stroke, and will never be on the pill again. There are two hormones in the pill that I was taking, and one of them was one of the contributing factors for the stroke.

After the stroke, my periods stopped for a few months. Then they began again, and it was just like they used to be. Oh, I should also mention that my endo said I didn’t have PCOS and that it was Cushing’s that was messing up my periods. During one consultation with my endo, this exchange occurred:

Me: Remember how I just went through hell to get my body fixed?
Endo: Yes?
Me: It’s not fixed.

My endo did more blood tests and in the end said to me that it was beyond his level of expertise and he referred me to a gynaecologist (the one I currently see). The new gyno scanned, probed, prodded and tested, and couldn’t work out the problem. His solution was to put in the Mirena, a little plastic device that is placed directly into the uterus and releases a little bit of a hormone (not the blood-clotting one) every day. It’s a method of birth control and it is also a way to regulate periods. In about 70% of women, after they have the Mirena in for a year, the periods stop completely (if I recall correctly).

I had one put in on the 27th of November, 2009 (which coincidentally was one year since the Cushing’s surgery). And as is typical of my body, irregular bleeding continued in the months following.

By the time I went to my gyno in October last year, the bleeding had stopped. I had an endo appointment the following day (my gyno and endo are friends), and my gyno told me to tell him that everything’s been fixed. At my endo appointment, this exchange occurred:

Me: Oh, George told me to tell you he’s fixed the bleeding. The Mirena’s working.
Endo: He hasn’t fixed it! He’s just shut down the system!

Which is a completely valid point, but I’m not complaining! The Mirena can stay in for up to five years, and my current one has been in for one year, six months, and a day. Updates to come in three and a half years.

This means that tomorrow will be the first day since the first half of 2007 that I won’t be taking a pill of some sort. The pills have varied – the contraceptive pill, iron tablets, calcium tablets, vitamin D tablets, hydrocortisone, anti-malarials, thyroid drugs, blood pressure drugs, blood thinners, and whatever else that was in the cocktail I was on in and straight out of hospital.

It’s pretty exciting!

I’ve also been to the optometrist for a check-up, and have an appointment next week with my dentist for a check-up and clean. It kind of feels as though I’m putting my body in for service, only this kind of servicing takes me all over Sydney and has to be done over five different days. And I’m not a hundred per cent sure on the maths, but I think my body is more expensive than my car. Worth it, though!

I’ve been back in Sydney for a week now. I left Tanzania earlier than planned because I was offered a job in the UK (research assistant in geography), and I have a few things to do at home before I leave again for an extended period of time.

This morning, I went to see my endocrinologist. It was a good appointment, and it does feel like meeting up with a friend who also happens to check up on my cortisol levels annually.

After the appointment, I went to do the blood tests (first blood tests in eight months!) and get the collection container for the 24 hour urine free cortisol test. For those of you who don’t know, the container is a giant plastic container that reminds me a bit of a jerry can. They give that to you, plus a smaller plastic container (like a takeaway soup container), in a big clear plastic bag. I’m not sure why they give it to you in a clear plastic bag – perhaps they think I want to advertise the fact that I’m going to be peeing into it shortly?

On the train on the way home, a guy commented that it must be for a lot of pee. So I said yes, it is, for 24 hours’ worth. I explained to him about Cushing’s Disease, and thought that it was impressive that he knew it was for pee. I didn’t think it was *that* obvious.

In other news, I’ve also gone back to my gym – to cycle classes, Pilates, and personal training sessions. I love it!

I will only have a few weeks in Sydney, and in those few weeks, I have a rather long real-life To Do list. I will go to my endocrinologist for the 24 hour urine free cortisol test and morning cortisol blood test. I will go to my gynaecologist for a pap smear. I will go to my GP for a check up. I will take a letter from one of my doctors to the RTA (Roads and Traffic Authority) saying I’m fit to drive.

Even though it’s been almost two years since the Cushing’s diagnosis (Tuesday will be the two year anniversary of my appointment with my endo), and it’s been almost two years since the stroke, they will forever be a part of my life that needs to be checked up on.

I’m not complaining, though. I’m happy just to still be alive, almost two years later.

The reason why I’m saying my endo is awesome this time is because at the end of the appointment, he wrote down the contact details of a friend of his in Vietnam. He said that if I have any free time, I should give him a call and say I’m a good friend of his [my endo's], and meet up with him. My endo told me to have a great year and to send him photos and emails, and to enjoy this year.

I know there are a lot of fantastic doctors out there who are great at their jobs, but in my own experience, and from what I’ve read and been told, there are very few doctors out there who go out of their way to know you as a person and treat you as a friend.

That was fifteen days before surgery.

And that was taken at Notes for Stroke, about ten and a half months after surgery.

I know that Cushing’s did some horrible things, but it feels like such a long time ago. I’d almost forgotten what it was like. I remember that it felt shit, but the actual details were something I don’t really think about anymore. It’s kind of fascinating now.

In other news, there are 41 days left in Sydney. I have an incredibly packed schedule for that month and a half, and many hours on the bike and at the gym. I’m getting the feeling that no matter how much I do, I will wish that I did more. My goal is to just be able to cycle what I’m supposed to without dying.

I know now that there were a few other obstacles to get past after the surgery, but that’s another anniversary in five days time, and today is simply one year of being Cushing’s free. Hooray!