In the midst of a scorching July day, as I sought refuge from the heat on my couch, I happened to catch a glimpse of my Apple Watch. To my surprise, my heart rate was exceeding 90 beats per minute. This was unusual considering that my heart rate had always been on the lower side since I began running at the age of 25. Despite being an active individual at 42, regularly participating in activities such as Peloton and running, my heart rate typically remained around 80 beats per minute when at rest, and even during intense moments like watching a scary movie. Perturbed by this discovery, I restarted my watch, my phone, and even rechecked my heart rate manually. Yet, the result remained the same – above 90.
For the following week, I became fixated on monitoring my heart rate through my Apple Watch. Whether I was sitting on the couch, working at my desk, waking up in the morning, or taking leisurely walks, my heart rate consistently remained high. Alongside this unusual elevated heart rate, I also noticed other peculiar occurrences, such as spikes in heart rate during runs or rides on my Peloton which forced me to pause. I also experienced excessive sweating, even during sleep. Initially, I dismissed these symptoms as mere byproducts of the ongoing heatwave. However, upon sharing my concerns with a close friend who had tragically lost her husband to a heart condition at the age of 42, I was strongly urged to seek medical attention.
Little did I know, this marked the beginning of a complicated journey towards uncovering the truth. As my appointment approached, I grew anxious that my concerns would be dismissed. Therefore, I decided to gather some concrete data to support my case. Utilizing a third-party app, I extracted three months’ worth of heart rate data from my Apple Watch. As I analyzed this information, a distinct pattern emerged – my average heart rate had been steadily climbing from the 70s in May to nearly 90 by the end of July.
In early August, I had a virtual appointment with a physician assistant from One Medical. Armed with my data, I conveyed my worries, emphasizing that consistently having a heart rate over 90 while at rest was not normal for me, despite the widely accepted range for average heart rate falling between 60 and 100 beats per minute. After fielding typical questions about stress levels, major life events, and job satisfaction, I boldly asserted that I firmly believed something was amiss. Finally, the physician assistant recommended a thyroid test through bloodwork.
Consequently, I dove headfirst into a Google rabbit hole, somewhat ashamed of my lack of knowledge regarding the functions of the thyroid. However, my research revealed its crucial role in regulating metabolism and the potential linkage between an overactive thyroid and symptoms such as increased heart rate and persistent sweating. My suspicions deepened.
The day after my appointment, reality set in as I struggled to complete a 30-minute Peloton ride that would usually be breeze. Although the workout itself was not particularly challenging, my heart rate soared 15 points higher than usual. It was then that I began to feel truly ill. Fatigue consumed me, my heart pounded audibly in my ears, and even climbing the stairs to my apartment proved to be an arduous task. I woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, as if my skin was aflame. Discomfort became my constant companion.
As soon as I received my bloodwork results, I immediately shared them with a friend who happened to be an endocrinologist. His response was both reassuring and definitive: “Real deal, darling. You have an overactive thyroid. You will be okay, I promise.” Encouraged, I revisited my cardiologist to ensure my heart was in good condition. Simultaneously, I embarked on the quest of finding an endocrinologist in New York City. Despite facing a discouraging wait time until 2024 at Weill Cornell, One Medical managed to secure an appointment for me on September 8. While I felt disheartened by the prospect of another month of misery, fate had a different plan.
Surprisingly, my cardiologist’s office informed me via text message that I could see an endocrinologist the very next day. I could scarcely believe it and even enlisted the help of a friend to verify the message. Fate seemed to be smiling upon me.
During my appointment with the endocrinologist, she forthrightly explained her suspicion that I may have Graves’ disease—an autoimmune disorder notorious for sending the thyroid into a frenzy akin to a fast-forwarding VCR. All my symptoms aligned with an overactive thyroid, and subsequent blood tests confirmed her hypothesis. To combat this condition, she prescribed two medications: a beta blocker to curb my racing heart and methimazole, designed to slow down my thyroid.
Hypothyroidism, characterized by an underactive thyroid, afflicts nearly five out of 100 Americans aged 12 and above. On the other hand, hyperthyroidism—my personal battle—occurs in approximately 1% of individuals over the age of 12, with women being more susceptible than men. Graves’ disease represents only one possible cause of an overactive thyroid.
It has been roughly two weeks since I last saw my endocrinologist, during which she has adjusted my medication twice. She cautioned that it may take at least a month before I start feeling like my usual self and advised me to steer clear of high-intensity workouts for the time being. Though I experienced some minor side effects from the medication, I am finally beginning to regain my lost vitality and eagerly anticipate a rejuvenating break at the Jersey Shore. Reflecting upon my journey, I am grateful that I did not overlook my body’s signals and that my diligent monitoring with the help of my Apple Watch provided substantiating evidence. Symptoms related to thyroid issues can be nebulous, making them easy to dismiss. Perhaps I would have convinced myself that I was merely out of shape.
As an avid runner, obtaining a diagnosis can be particularly challenging, as highlighted by Runner’s World. However, as a runner conscious of my body’s intricacies and armed with concrete data, I knew I had to dig deeper.
Indeed, I acknowledge my good fortune—having comprehensive medical insurance, understanding the healthcare system, holding a flexible job that accommodates medical needs, and possessing the confidence to advocate for thorough investigations.
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