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"Derby and Doctor"

15 May 2003

Two weekends ago Kevin invited me to go with him to a friend's Kentucky Derby party. When I learned there were going to be over 20 people there, I became apprehensive: group settings make it tougher for me to hide my HH. One-on-one I can tell if someone is staring at my damp clothes, but in a group setting I feel out of control. Worse yet, my sweating is still much increased due to the thyroid hormones, as I'll write about further below.

I suppose it's all relative. On the message boards I see people getting all bent out of shape because their shirt has tiny wet spots. For 15 years I've lived with softball-sized wet stains under my arms frequently, so I've gotten used to that. But now that my sweating has ratcheted up even higher, I suddenly feel more self-conscious about it, and can better understand how others could be concerned about a little sweating. It's what you get used to.

It used to be I could stay almost completely dry on a non-stressful day. Add some stress to the mix and I'd start to sweat, but usually I could hide it if I kept my arms at my sides. Now I start sweating as soon as I get up in the morning. Today I had softball-sized pit stains on my blouse by the time I arrived at the office. As I type this I can feel the sweat dripping down my sides. _sigh_

For the party I wore a loose navy pullover, not a very spring color, but a decent one to hide the underarm wetness. I drenched the shirt but few people seemed to notice, which was a relief, and Kevin didn't even bat an eye. Well, OK, he noticed, but he didn't react negatively. I was actually able to enjoy the party a little and forget about my HH for brief periods.

I remember as a teenager making out with a guy during a movie. He reached inside my jacket, and when he touched my wet shirt he yanked his hand back in disgust and said "You're all sweaty!". Somehow I had the fortitude to simply reply "Yeah, it happens all the time," and pulled him back for more kissing. I wanted to do the same with Kevin, if necessary, but since I'm sweating so much more than I'm used to, I didn't know if I could.

It turned out I didn't need to, but not because he didn't kiss me. After the party when he drove me home, we exchanged a few wonderful kisses in his car. He reached and put his hand on my side, and didn't yank it away! My shirt was again soaked to the waist, so he got a handful of wet fabric, but it didn't seem to bother him! He didn't treat me like a freak, he just smiled and said he'd call (which he did). We went out again this past weekend which I'll write about next time.

I was going to end this update here, but I have a sweaty incident to vent about. Yesterday I had a followup visit with my endocrinologist. He has me taking what's known as a suppression dose of thyroid hormones, it's a high dose designed to discourage the regrowth of thyroid cancer. Well, I've always perspired heavily, but this high dose has made things worse. In the past I didn't sweat stain my clothes down to my waist so regularly.

I had talked to the doctor on the phone about this side effect, but he blew it off. So, to graphically demonstrate the effect, yesterday I decided to wear a blouse that I know shows the wetness. It's a fuchsia color long sleeve suit blouse in a silky polyester. I simply adore the color and the way it looks on me, but I haven't worn it for months because it makes my increased sweating too obvious. Here's a picture I found on the Web that illustrates very well what I mean. That's about how much I had pitted out by the time I got to work.

While at work, I hid under a jacket, but I left the jacket in my car before going into the doctor's office. By the time I got to talk with the doctor, there were huge, dark wet stains dripping down from my pits to my waist, but he didn't say anything! He told me my blood test results were now about where they should be, so I should stay on the same dose of thyroid hormone.

Finally I brought up the subject and told him I was hoping for a dose reduction because it might help reduce my HH. I lifted my arms to make the point more obvious. He glanced and said he didn't think my sweating was excessive! Not excessive? My underarms are on the verge of being confused with Niagra Falls, and that's not excessive?!? I was so upset I was fumbling for words and our discussion became a bit heated.

He told me he didn't sense any offensive odor and it was just my clothes getting a little wet. A little wet? He practically scolded me for wearing a blouse like this and suggested instead colors that don't show the perspiration as much. Once I admitted I didn't use antiperspirant, he saw that as the solution, and ignored my reports that antiP only slowed the sweating for me, but didn't stop it. Grrrr.

Well, I came out of there angry and sweating more than ever, with a referral to a dermatologist, whom I assume is simply going to tell me to use some nasty chemical antiP. I'm still bristling about the whole event, but writing about it has helped some, thanks for listening. I guess I will go to the derm and see what he has to say, and maybe find a new endo too.

For prior stories, see the archives.