I'm completely and utterly convinced the earth is spinning faster. The days and weeks are blurring into one, and someone somewhere is speeding up time. An hour isn't an hour anymore and that thing you've been looking forward to in many weeks or years to come, is finally here! Before you've even had chance to plan your outfit. You could say this is simply because I'm getting old, as people have said since the dawn of time “It only goes faster the older you get.” After feeling like I've lost a year of life due to the ultimate loss of losing a parent, the subsequent and continued grief, then snapping and gradually regrowing the biggest bone in my body, I’m determined and borderline OBSESSED to make up for lost time!
“Money comes back, but time doesn't” is one of my many new mantras. Treading that fine line between being responsible and totally reckless. Much like living with brittle bones; Now I know I’ve got osteoporosis and I’m essentially made of glass, I want to keep myself safe in the world but also not live in fear. I still plan on doing all the adventurous and cool things I've always wanted to do. That said, I'm thinking getting my motorbike licence is not my brightest idea at this time, so I'll stick to Porsche’s. Mum always said “This is not the dress rehearsal! It's the real thing.” She's right. Hence I squeezed in a short but sweet trip to LA between race weekends. But we'll chat more about my Hollywood escapades in next week's blog!
Post Goodwood and a family visit to Brighton, I headed back up North for several important things to attend/ take care of and conquer. I'd been asked to present an award at the school my Mum was once Head teacher of. The place she adored and worked at for over 35 years. It was also one of my former primary schools. To carry on her legacy and spirit, her colleagues had decided to create an award named after her, to be presented to the highest achieving pupil at the end of the school year. True to my Mum's teachings, this wasn't about the person with the best grades, it was about the person who'd grown and blossomed the most! Fully coming out of their shell, while having the biggest heart, always showing kindness to others. I was already crying at the thought of it and felt hugely honoured that I would get to stand up in front of everyone in that assembly hall and say a few words about my incredible Mum! However, in my eyes, there was one thing I absolutely must NOT do... and that's cry in front of the kids. Think about it, when children see an adult crying, they immediately will think something is wrong. Grown-ups don't cry! The poor things would be sat there, cross legged on the cold school floor, thinking “who is this lady and why is she crying?” I made ‘Don't scare the children!!’ my temporary new mantra.
I'm happy to report I held it together, and my heart felt so full seeing all the kids sat in the same school hall I once did. It all looked so much smaller now I'm fully grown, and I felt slightly jealous of their ability to sit cross legged as that's something my femur still won't let me do. As they all filed out to class, I headed out to take my own child (Pedro the Porsche) for his first service at Porsche Centre Stockport. I saved my tears until I got to the dealership and I handed over my credit card, when I had to fork out £1,000 for a standard service. They did soften the blow by providing me with a beautiful brand-new Macan to cruise around in, so I could get to all my leg appointments.
That afternoon I headed to the private hospital to see the expensive endocrinologist and discuss my blood results.
(Now do you see why I'm always busy?! Even when in theory I shouldn't be! I've always got some kind of appointment to get to, person to meet, Zoom to take, blog to write, places to drive to!) There were some very nice Ferraris in the staff car park, but when you're paid around £20 a minute- I’m not surprised. I wonder how much their servicing is though? Anyway, right now I’m still trying to service myself, as we continue to deep dive into my health issues and try to discover how my bones got this bad, and why my ovaries have stopped working. Just when I thought we were getting somewhere with the ‘premature ovarian insufficiency’ diagnosis, the whole entering into early menopause, resulting in my oestrogen dropping, resulting in my bone density declining, life goes- “HA! WRONG!! Have another curveball!” As one hurtles towards me, smacking me right between the eyes, quite literally. My blood test results showed that my pituitary gland is not working.
Remember way back in May when I first went to see this Endocrinologist, she suggested this could all be down to my pituitary gland? AKA- the master gland! Well, after literally weeks becoming months of waiting for a GP to see my emails, requesting these necessary bloods on the NHS, to finally having them done, to waiting for the results, to finding out they tested for the wrong thing, (Eye roll!) to starting the whole process again, we finally got here... To late July, sitting in front of the equally exasperated Endocrinologist again, for her to tell me that no, it's not my ovaries that have packed up, it's my pituitary gland. That flippin' pea-sized ball in my head hasn't been working for YEARS! Its main job is to produce all the hormones in your body and send them to the relevant places, i.e your ovaries. When your oestrogen levels start declining, guess what? So does your bone density! Like a silent assassin that you can't see, stealing all your bone strength. You have no way of knowing until: Hey presto! You break your femur stepping down off a wall! My ovaries haven't broken. They’re just sat there dormant, like a car with no fuel on the driveway of my womb! Holy shit. I never could've figured this out. A few months ago, I didn't even know what an endocrinologist was and I’d certainly never given a single thought to “Hey, I wonder what my pituitary gland is for?”
I now wanted to know EVERYTHING! Like why isn't it working, for starters.
“We need to take a closer look.” She said. “We're going to have to do an MRI scan on your head to check for any tumours...”
At this point in life, nothing surprises me, so I chose not to stress myself over the T word. Especially as she said you can have benign tumours on your pituitary, that just sit there, like slugs, but can still cause problems that need addressing. OK, so maybe there's a pesky tumour living rent free on my gland between my eyes, enjoying front row seats to ‘What Sophie Sees’ as I carry it round unknowingly in my head, while I move through life?
A couple of days later I had more blood tests and the MRI scan itself. I chose not to google anything in that time. I've never had an MRI before and was slightly unnerved when they asked if I had any metal in my face.
“Erm no, just my leg, thankfully!” Then told me I had to remove my oestrogen patch and warned me it would get “very loud in there”, while handing me some ear plugs and sandwiching my head between two massive sponge blocks. As cool and futuristic as the room looked, coupled with the calming cherry blossom mural illuminated on the ceiling to gaze up at, a panic was brewing inside me. Sudden flashbacks of the last time I was on a conveyor belt, sliding me into a metal tube; how much severe pain I was in, how bent my leg was, all made me feel sick. Plus, I was savagely cut out of my grid girl shorts and angel friend Matt had to go and face the wall! I tried to override the panic by gazing into the small mirror on the helmet that encased my face, and marvelling at how perfect I’d done my eyebrows that day. After that, I kept my eyes tightly shut and let the time pass. What was set to be the most claustrophobic 30 minutes of my life, complete with deafening, abrasive and highly un-soothing electronic beeps, actually went by in a flash. Once again proving that time is going faster. Whatever hard, scary or uncomfortable things are happening for you in this moment, they will soon pass. Now, if we could just slow down time for when I go to LA, then speed it up again when I'm home, waiting for these MRI results- that'd be great.
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