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I lost my best friend to a heart attack at 64. She had been on Levothyroxine for 19 years. Her labs were normal right until the end. If you are on Levothyroxine this is the conversation nobody is having with you. My name is Patricia. I am 65 years old and I have been on Levothyroxine for 16 years. I want to tell you something I found out sitting in my car outside a church on a grey Friday afternoon in November still wearing my black coat with Diane's order of service in my hand. Something that might save your life the way I believe it is saving mine. But first I need to tell you about Diane. Diane and I had been best friends for 34 years. We were diagnosed with hypothyroidism within eighteen months of each other. Started Levothyroxine within eighteen months of each other. Spent the next two decades comparing notes in the way only two women on the same medication with the same symptoms and the same GP telling them the same things can. We were tired together. We gained weight together. We were fobbed off together. We used to joke that between us we were one functioning thyroid. It was funny until it was not funny anymore. Diane died on a Wednesday morning in October making a cup of tea in her kitchen. Heart attack. She was 64 years old. Her last blood test three months earlier had come back completely normal. I stood at her funeral on a grey Friday and tried to hold myself together. The first thing that broke me was Diane's husband. He stood at the door of the church thanking people for coming the way you do at these things. Shaking hands. Nodding. When he got to me he held on a little longer than he needed to. He said: she had not been herself for years Patricia. I kept telling her to go back to the doctor. She kept saying her labs were normal. He shook his head. Normal. What does normal even mean. I said I know. I squeezed his hand. I moved inside. I sat in the pew and thought: none of us were ourselves. Not me. Not Diane. Not a single woman I know who has been on this medication for more than five years. We all just stopped being ourselves so gradually that the people who loved us started to accept it as just who we were now. Tired. Foggy. Heavy. Disappearing one year at a time. And we called it normal. The second thing that broke me was two women I did not know standing behind me after the service. I did not turn around. Just listened. One of them said: she had been so tired lately. So unlike herself. I thought it was stress. The other one said: I know. She cancelled on me three times this year. I should have pushed harder. I sat very still and felt something cold move through me. How many times had I cancelled. How many times had I said I am just a bit tired. How many times had the people who loved me quietly adjusted their expectations of me downward and called it understanding. How many of them were going to be standing at my funeral in five years saying the same things. She had been so tired lately. So unlike herself. The third thing broke me completely. I picked up the order of service on the way out. Diane's face on the front. Smiling. The way she used to smile before all of it. Before the weight and the fog and the exhaustion that sleep could never touch. I turned it over. There at the bottom under her name and her dates was a small section. Medications at time of passing. Levothyroxine 100mcg. Listed there like it was proof. Like it meant someone had been taking care of her. Like nineteen years of a little white pill on an empty stomach every morning had been enough. It was not enough. It was never enough. I walked out of that church and got into my car and sat there in my black coat with the order of service in my lap and the words Levothyroxine 100mcg printed under my best friend's name. Same medication. Same symptoms. Same normal labs. Same GP telling us both everything was fine. Diane was two years older than me. Two years. I picked up my phone and called Rose. Rose is my cousin. 72 years old. Retired NHS nurse. Forty years on the ward, the last twelve in endocrinology. She had watched too many women leave hospital appointments clutching a normal result and a broken spirit. She knew what undertreated thyroid looked like. She had seen it on wards for four decades. She picked up on the second ring. She heard my voice and said: where are you. I said: sitting in the car park outside the church. I can not make myself drive home yet. She said: I know why you are calling Patricia. I have been waiting for you to call me for a long time. I said: Rose I am not going to end up like Diane. Tell me what I need to know. She did not waste a single word. She said: your medication gives your body T4. That is all it does. It replaces the hormone your thyroid can no longer make. And for a lot of women that is enough. But not for all of us. Your body has to take that T4 and convert it into T3. That is the active form. That is the one your cells actually run on. Your energy. Your weight. Your body temperature. How hard your heart has to work every single day. I said: and mine is not converting properly. She said: for a lot of women it does not. And nobody tells them that. The blood test your endocrinologist runs every six months measures the signal your brain is sending to your thyroid. It does not measure whether your cells are actually receiving what they need. You can have a perfect signal and starving cells at the same time. Normal result. Starving cells. Heart working twice as hard to cover for them. For nineteen years. I stared through the windscreen at the church car park. People were leaving in ones and twos. Black coats. Quiet faces. I said: that is what happened to Diane. Rose said: that is what happens to a lot of women Patricia. And it does not stay as tiredness and weight. When your cells are starving your body compensates. Your heart works harder. Your liver struggles. Your cholesterol climbs. Your blood pressure goes up. Your GP gives you a statin. A blood pressure pill. An antidepressant. You end up rattling with prescriptions for problems that all lead back to the same thing nobody is looking at. I thought about Diane's husband. She had not been herself for years. I thought about the two women behind me. So tired lately. So unlike herself. I thought about the order of service in my lap. Levothyroxine 100mcg. I said: Rose what do I do. She told me the conversion from T4 to T3 needs specific nutrients to work properly. Selenium is the most important one. It is the mineral that drives the conversion pathway in the liver. Without enough of it the process slows down or stalls completely. Most women with hypothyroidism are deficient in it. Most thyroid supplements do not contain enough of it to make any real difference. "A tablet sitting in a gut that has been struggling for years is like posting a letter to a house with no letterbox," she said. "It just does not get through. Has to be liquid. Has to go straight to work." She said: wake up the liver. Give it the right minerals in the right form. That is it Patricia. That is all of it. That is everything your endocrinologist has never once looked at in 16 years. I said: Rose I will try anything to feel like I am living and not just existing. Tell me what to take. She told me about tryAxivelle. A liquid drop formula. Built specifically for women like me. Women on thyroid medication who are still symptomatic. Women whose T4 is not converting. Women who are sick of being sick and done waiting for a system that has been failing them for years to suddenly start working. I asked her if it was safe alongside my Levothyroxine. She said: it works with it. Not instead of it. It addresses what your medication was never designed to address. I ordered it sitting in that car park. Still in my black coat. Diane's order of service on the passenger seat beside me. I was not going to be next. I am not going to tell you it was overnight. Rose told me it would not be and she was the first person in sixteen years I trusted completely. What I will tell you is this. Week two I noticed I was not hitting the wall at two o clock the way I always did. I did not say anything to anyone. I had been disappointed before. I know what it feels like to hope for something and get nothing back. I was not doing that to myself again. Week three my ankles were not puffy at the end of the day for the first time in years. I stood in the bathroom and looked at them and felt something shift. Week five I slept through the night. Properly. Woke up at half past six and lay there waiting for the exhaustion to arrive the way it always did. It did not arrive. I got up. Made tea. Stood at the kitchen window watching the garden. Just stood there. Not calculating how much the standing would cost me later. Not planning my recovery time. Just standing in my own kitchen feeling like a person again. Week eight my daughter called on a Sunday evening. She said: Mum you sound like yourself again. I had to put the phone down for a moment. Diane's husband had said she had not been herself for years. My daughter was telling me I was myself again. That is the difference between doing something and doing nothing. That is the difference between the two paths in front of you right now. You have two paths in front of you. One path. Keep taking the Levothyroxine. Keep going back every six months. Keep being told your levels are normal while the weight keeps climbing and the energy keeps disappearing. Keep cancelling on the people who love you. Keep being so tired lately. So unlike yourself. Watch your GP mention a statin. Then a blood pressure pill. Then an antidepressant. End up rattling with prescriptions for problems that all lead back to the same root cause nobody is looking at. Wait until someone is standing at your funeral saying: she had not been herself for years. Or. Wake up your liver. Give your body the one thing your medication was never designed to give it. Let your cells finally receive what they have been waiting for since the day you were diagnosed. 👉 https://tryaxivelle.com/products/tryaxivelle-thyroid-balance-drops One dropper a day. Liquid formula. Works alongside your Levothyroxine not instead of it. No iodine. Safe with your existing medication. If nothing changes you pay nothing. No forms. No explanations. No hoops to jump through. Just your money back in full. Because I know what it feels like to have spent years trying things that did not work. Handing over money you did not really have for something that promised to change everything and changed nothing. Getting back in the car and driving home trying not to cry because you had let yourself hope again. This is not that. Your liver just needs waking up. That is all. That is everything Rose told me sitting in a car park in my black coat on the worst afternoon of my life. And she was right. I am still here. I am going to keep being here. That is what 60 days looks like. That is what you are saying yes to. Patricia 👉 https://tryaxivelle.com/products/tryaxivelle-thyroid-balance-drops