I mean, that’s how it happens in the comics. Radioactive spiders, gamma ray exposure, you name it. So there was always the hope that the pill full of radioactive iodine I swallowed for a hyperactive thyroid could have imparted some kind of special ability.
Hey, it could happen.
Just think of the possibilities here. The ability to regrow beta cells, or corral and destroy the errant T-cells that have already taken down two organs. Being able to wave your hand over a plate (I admit, I do this) and know instantly the precise carb count of everything on it (OK, so that part seldom works).
Or better yet, being able to see different paths 4 hours in the future to know the precise insulin dose you should give yourself to avoid that nasty 327 after lunch.
How about being able to keep you blood sugar level, no matter what you eat? Or turn a chocolate chip cookie into a “free food” just by looking at it? Without changing the taste or texture of course.
There were just so many things that could have happened.
I guess I just wasn’t specific enough about which organ I wanted to regrow.
Because, in the nine weeks since the radiation treatment, my thyroid output has more than doubled. In fact, if it doesn’t die off soon, we’re going to have to try it again.
This time I’ll be hoping it’s the pancreas that regenerates.