An Acceptable Risk...?

During the last visit to my diabetic clinic, I was asked to consider a new medication known as 'Victoza'. It is administered using an injection pen, once daily and it is known to work very well at lowering blood sugar levels and is also helpful in controlling weight.
I had for a long time been against any form of regular injection to help control my diabetes, viewing it as failure on my part. Having read the booklet I was given, it wasn't long before I was accepting the need for something more effective and seeing as I would need to inject just once a day, the idea began to gain favour with me.
As with all medication, I do like to do some research on the Internet to find out more about the tablets I take. I am particularly interested in finding out about how medicines are used in other countries and whether any adverse health risks resulting from taking them have been identified.

I have researched Victoza or Liraglutide as it is more commonly known and I have found a lot of information from various sources about its effectiveness in controlling blood sugar levels in Type 2 diabetics. This is good, but I have also found an alarming amount relating to the risk associated with thyroid cancer. It turns out that during tests on animals, an increase in the instances of thyroid cancers was detected. As a result, the medication in the US carries a 'Black Box' warning of the possible risk to humans of developing thyroid cancer. It is pointed out that the risk to humans has not been proved as no testing has been carried out and the medication hasn't been in use long enough for the results to be known. The FDA have however demanded that a 15 year study is undertaken amongst users of Victoza to detect any recorded increase in thyroid cancers.

Now, I worry about the slightest things, so you can imagine how this has me feeling at the moment. My relief at having been recommended a new medication to control my increasing blood sugar levels has now been replaced with a fear that, if the diabetes doesn't get me then thyroid cancer will. I know it sounds ridiculous but how much faith should I place in something that hasn't been properly tested? Should I take the medication knowing the risk, as the benefits outweigh the probability? It's very likely that should I develop thyroid cancers later on in life, no link would be made to my use of Victoza, and those that prescribed it would be long gone anyway, absolving themselves of any responsibility or blame.
I'm rather worried that when I visit my GP, he will claim to have no knowledge of the reported risks, and will look at me blankly when I raise it with him. He has done this before and it frustrates me immensely that I seem to be the only one prepared to do any research and to find out all I can about the tablets I put in me. I fear that the information I have discovered will again be dismissed as just rumour and speculation, but I am determined this time to press the point that a risk has been identified and that takers of Victoza are in effect live guinea pigs.
If I do consent to take the medication then I will insist that I am regularly tested for any abnormalities. I believe this is mandatory practise in other countries where Victoza has been approved, so it should be here in the UK.
Am I worrying needlessly? Most probably, but whilst there is sufficient concern, enough to warrant a FDA warning in the US then I can't help but be concerned.

Another Bit of Me Not Working...

I had an appointment with my GP this morning. He had contacted me requesting I attend following a recent blood test. In truth it has been a while since I last saw him. He's actually a very good doctor, but I'm acutely aware like many that I don't do everything I should regarding my health and I am often criticised for it.
This morning he told me that my blood test had shown that I have significantly reduced Thyroid function, and that this is probably due to my Diabetes. He asked me if I'd been feeling tired and lacking energy. I replied that I have, I'm tired almost every day and I have nowhere near the energy I once had, even a couple of years ago. He also told me the slowed metabolism will cause weight gain - he only has to look at me to see that is true - and he poked my stomach with a grin.
It has all meant another tablet. This time, it's Levothyroxin and I need to take one daily. This should gradually  return things to their normal level but if not, he told me I would need a course of hormone replacement therapy.
I collected my tablets and I need to see him in a few weeks time after another blood test to see if the tablets have had any effect.
I don't know how I feel at having something else wrong with me. It does explain how I've been feeling most days and how I can easily fall asleep in the afternoon and evening. I'm thankful the tablet is quite tiny as I doubt if there is much room left in my daily tablet dispenser. As it is, I already warrant a NHS carrier bag when I collect my prescription every few weeks.
My GP retires Christmas Eve later this year. I didn't actually think he was that old, but I made a point of looking at him today. He's Chinese and I always think they never really age in the same way we do. He does look young and I would certainly not put him in the 55-60 years bracket. I wish him well and it will be sad to see him go. He's a great GP and he's seen me at my best and at my worst, helping me and convincing me that I had a future after my breakdown.
I've looked up my newly diagnosed condition and it's called Hypothyroidism. If nothing else, I suppose it will be something to talk about at my next Support Group Meeting.

Photo of the Day 21, A Light Dusting & Other Stuff

The first snow of the winter overnight and we're being warned of more to come this weekend. Brrrrggghh!

I don't really know what to make of my appointment earlier today. I probably expected to hear something different. For the first time, I was seen by the top guy there. He was sympathetic as I supposed he has to be but seemed to imply that I could control the amount of stress I expose myself to and in a similar way control how I deal with it. The only thing of any real use was a suggestion that my medication could be adjusted. The only problem with this is the fact that I'm either going to be more tired and sedated than normal or not be sedated enough to sleep properly.
I'm pretty certain that diagnosis can vary tremendously from doctor to doctor. I never seem to hear the same thing - it always varies in some way. It's simply impossible to tell someone being treated for depression to 'cheer up' and 'get on with things'. But I suppose that's how I felt about the advice I received this morning. My wife accompanied me this time as she saw first hand how bad things were last week and as normal, she had to endure me in such a terrible state. I'm sure she felt frustrated too at not quite being able to get across the seriousness of my most recent episode. There is I think always a communication issue between patient and doctor. This may be contentious but it's something we're all aware of. When doctors and specialists are of a different ethnicity, this can be a particular problem. The language isn't so much the issue - often their use of English is better than most people I know. It's the nuances and common phrases that aren't often interpreted fully. This can lead to a lack of full understanding and it's exactly that which contributed to my feeling of disappointment with this morning's session.

I applied for another job today. It's for an ICT technician based locally to service schools and businesses in the area. I've heard nothing from the others I've applied for recently, par for the course I'm afraid. It's hugely demoralising and really does begin to get you down after a while. But I'm determined to find something so I'll just carry on until my luck changes. It's pretty obvious to any followers by now that my driving ambition is temporarily on hold while I try to save us from homelessness and possible bankruptcy.

I haven't yet mentioned the outcome of the 'to do' in Sutton St James the other night. Sadly it isn't good and a once peaceful village is now traumatised and shocked. The guy involved in an armed stand-off with police decided to take his own life. A very sad ending and a loss to his family friends and neighbours who knew him.

I'm hoping to get some nice wintry photos over the coming days. It is clear at the moment though we have had the odd flake or two of snow today. It is though very cold and we're expecting a sharp frost overnight. Thankfully we have ample wood and coal.

The All-Clear

This morning I'm with my wife at the breast screening clinic. It's purely routine stuff but one can't help feeling a little worried. My view is that it's simply not possible for us to suffer any further bad luck and I try to reassure my wife that nothing out of the ordinary will be discovered. I don't know what effect my reassurance has, but probably very little. As I sit waiting while my wife is prodded and poked I am struck by how basic the waiting area is.

My wife appears soon after and tells me the doctor who examined her didn't find anything suspicious. That in itself was reassuring. He wanted a mammogram doing just to be sure and it wasn't long before we were ushered to another waiting room in the breast scanning dept. 

I am drawn to the radiation warning signs and find myself worrying more about the number of roentgens my wife will receive and what percentage of her normal yearly dose she will receive. We didn't wait long before my wife was taken into a room containing some space-age looking equipment. Sat in the waiting room I could just make out some sounds of motors and beeps. I'd watched a This Morning special on breast awareness the other day with my wife so we both knew what to expect. I do hope we get the results today. The chap who has to look at the scans hadn't arrived yet so we had to wait. I think it's the waiting that's the worst part. It would be so much better if they told you there and then. After another short wait while a report was prepared, we were sent back to the waiting room we had come from to wait for the results. The waiting room was quite busy, some of the people being those who were with us at the start. It's all about waiting. One doctor to fifty patients. The maths is easy.

A radio plays out the local station KLFM. It's strangely out of place here. The tunes are jolly and I find it quite irritating and in a way disrespectful. The only other sounds are from the staff discussing their shifts and lunch breaks. Old worn magazines are flicked from page to page. They are out of date and their news known and digested countless times. But they will still be there next year, and probably the year after if they remain intact.

The waiting room is now quite full. They are playing Queen on the radio. So out of place for a breast clinic waiting room.

There is an air conditioning unit in the corner of the room. It looks like a poor attempt at a Dalek or cheap space alien. It has pipe sticking out of it at all angles with a large pipe forced through a window to the outside. It looks as if it's been added by someone in haste who can no longer endure the oppressive hospital heat and has been forced through desperation to construct this monstrosity. I imagine it is as loud as it looks though I wouldn't want to be around when it is switched on.

It's finally my wife's turn and her name is called. She disappears into a side room and I begin to think how I will react if she is given bad news. How will we manage and can I give her the support she needs? In less than a minute, my wife reappears. It’s good news, all clear. Nothing suspicious was detected. What a relief… Instead of the anguish if we’d had bad news, we joked about how the mammogram required her breasts to be squashed almost flat for the machine to get a good enough image. It was good that we could relax and joke. We are lucky and I feel for anyone who cannot, for there are sadly too many…