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That is just toooooooooooooo funny
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PAULATHE STORY OF THE THYROID
GLANDOnce upon a time there was a little thyroid gland, no bigger than 25 grams, who lived in the
throat of an artist called Kire-Naj. Kire-Naj, being a workaholic, never took time out to care
about his own body. Other than observing the surface of it in various reflecting items. One day
the thyroid gland decided to make its insignificant existence noted by starting to harrass its host.So it decided to go into early retirement, and stopped producing thyroxine, the hormone that a
thyroid gland provides the body with. Thyroxine affects the synthesis of mRNA in the nuclei, and
through that the synthesis of proteins vital to the body. The entire metabolism is either speeded
up or slowed down depending on the amount of thyroxine in the body.Kire-Naj’s thyroid gland felt that its host had been driving in the fast lane for too long, and
decided to slow him down. The most successful way of doing this was to stop the production of
thyroxine.But the thyroid gland was a sly little devil. It knew all too well that the first symptoms would
never give it away as the main villain.So when Kire-Naj during the years got cold hands and white fingers even in the summer, felt
increasingly cold and kept getting muscle cramps, he blamed on bad circulation. He got more
and more tired, slept more, and felt the need to roll up under a warm cover or take hot baths.As time went by the fatigue increased. Kire-Naj had to muster up all of his will-power in order to
complete all the work projects he had going. But there wasn’t enough energy for everything. His
relationships crashed and he became more and more depressed. Even his brain got slower. The
only good thing that came of this was that his stuttering almost totally disappeared, according to
Kire-Naj because he had stopped drinking alcohol. The truth was that he had got so slack, or you
could say relaxed, that for the first time in 40 years he could call anyone without stuttering, or
even getting stuck, when he introduced himself.When he one night realized that he hadn’t managed to get out of bed for 24 hours, he blamed on
emotional problems and the mid-life crisis. Life was hell for him until he one day discovered
blood in his saliva. Now, when he finally called a doctor, he suspected cancer! Or aids!Meanwhile his body was desperately trying to compensate for the loss of thyroxine. His
hypophysis was spitting THS like crazy. THS is a substance that stimulates the thyroid gland, and
Kire-Naj’s THS level was 50. It’s normally around 5. But it was no use. When a thyroid gland has
decided to quit, it quits, and that’s final.After going through endless examinations and tests Kire-Naj got a call from his doctor early one
morning. The criminal was caught. And it wasn’t cancer or HIV, it was this plain, undramatic
little thing that Kire-Naj barely knew existed; The Thyroid Gland!There it was, comfortably embedded in protective muscle and adipose tissue, enjoying its
retirement. It didn’t have to produce one single molecule of thyroxine, and it took great pleasure
in watching its host, buried in medical litterature, trying to find out everything about its life and
functions. Through the sound membranes it could even hear Kire-Naj explaining to his friends,
going on and on about the three-month sick-leave, and how he was going to use that to realize an
old dream. He was going to do the world’s cleanest exhibition, in which the thyroid gland would
play a part.Kire-Naj proved to be far from alone in owning a thyroid gland on strike. His father got his daily
dose of thyroxine out of a medicine jar. That’s something you have to get used to doing every
day for the rest of your life, thyroid glands are glands with principles. Other friends and family
members were also familiar with the little jar with the dosage in giant print.So now it could peacefully doze off, knowing that Kire-Naj would think of it every morning when
he opened his little medicine jar. What remained to be seen was how long it would take the other
neglected organs to think of the same brilliant idea for making themselves noticed!Transl. Sussi Björkfors
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