- Visited my surgeon for blood tests
- visited my endo for blood tests on the same day felt like a pin cushion
- test included, TSH, CA and Vit. D, Pregnancy and Antibodies
- Felt absolutely exhausted due to my TSH being over 40!!! I literally thought my bones were collapsing under the weight of my body. I felt like every time I stood up I was walking sideways about to fall over from the dizziness.
- Scheduled RAI pill administration the day before Thanksgiving since my levels were within range. Although my endo. and my surgeon debated whether I needed to wait for my CA levels to improve before I took the RAI. But there was no way I could wait another week to take the synthetic hormone medication!!! (cant take it before RAI).
- Went to receive RAI pill. The oncologist took the pill out of a lead canister the size of a coke can. He wore rubber gloves and held it at full arms length away from himself. A bright yellow "Radioactive" sign emblazoned the canister and the tiny pill (looked exactly like a tylenol capsule). "Drink Up!" seemed to be completely against every instinct I had to swallow that pill, but I had to do it. The Oncologist and two other nurses stared at me for about three minutes to make sure I didn't have a reaction, then I was free to walk out...as long as I stayed six feet away from others at all times.
- Thanksgiving day-- had to stay six feet away from my husband and dog and my entire family, flush the toilet twice, and suck on hard candy every hour so that my salivary glands would not get damaged from the radiation. Have to wait 6 mos.--1 year to get pregnant due to the radiation as well.
- I could finally start taking Synthroid and Cytomel again and it was almost instant improvement on my fatigue!
- Still had to take 9 calcium per day and nasty antibiotic
- All this time, a rotten, cinnamon-like smell was radiating from my incision--it was infected because I now know that I am allergic to medical tape! It was oozing green when my surgeon removed the one long strand of stitch and prescribed some bactroban to apply to it twice daily.
- Well, I am allergic to backtroban as well! and A&D ointment, and Aquaphor. Soap and water was all I could use.
- It healed and scabbed, but the infection made the right side of the scar thicker than the left. It is still red and somewhat painful today (April). Oh, and I am allergic to Mederma, Vitamin E and Bio Oil. Nice!
- I have a crooked, puffy-on-one-side scar right between my collar bones. There is a round scar beneath the "smiley-face" scar (from that terrible tube), and you can see every little line from the stitches above and below the scar. It aches in the morning and pulls on the tendons in my neck. My brother lovingly calls me "Zipper Neck," but a lot of people seem to think it looks kind of "cool," like a vampire bite. When people ask me what happened I tell them I got into a knife fight.
- It really angers me when people smoke around me--I just want to point at my neck and say "Look, I was extremely healthy, a marathon runner, and I got cancer for no apparent reason and an ugly, painful scar to remind me every day that anything can happen at any time to any body. All you can do is live every day and love your family, friends and God. You just never know.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Other Events that week
Home
"You hungry"
"not really. just tired"
So, I slept. Crashed more like it. When I awoke I found that my best friend had been to the grocery store and purchased frozen smoothie mixes, ice cream, doritos, oatmeal cream pies, and pretty much any wonderful food I could imagine. When you're not hungry, but you need to eat, it helps to have your favorite junk foods on hand! My husband and my best friend were wonderful! They fed me, entertained me, and helped me walk to the restroom (didn't want a repeat of passing out after I sat and stood too quickly when I had my wisdom teeth out).
The days all kind of blurred together. I sat on one spot on the couch and watched movies with my head leaned back on a pillow. I read magazines, ate oatmeal cream pies, and drank chocolate milk. The chocolate milk was actually great for taking the horse-pill antibiotic I had to take--it was gigantic and DISGUSTING! I would burp up the flavor of dirt or rotten lettuce or something hard to describe every time I took it. I really didnt have to take any pain meds, though as there really wasn't much pain...just extreme fatigue and dizziness.
The fatigue and dizziness came from not having a vital hormone producing gland in my body anymore, and not being able to take the synthetic drug to replace the hormones produced by said gland. You see, you have to let your hormone levels get to a certain point (TSH 30) before you can take the Radioactive Iodine (RAI) pill. That way any leftover thyroid tissues will absorb the RAI and be obliterated so as to prevent recurrence of the cancer. So, during the wait for the levels to rise, you become more and more "hypothyroid." When my doctor first diagnosed my hypothyroidism, my TSH was at a 9. The normal level is between like 1 and 4 approximately, just to give you an idea of how high a TSH of 30 really is, and how terrible you feel when it gets that high.
The next day my mom came to visit and care for me as well. I woke up in the morning just shivering from head to foot. I couldn't even bear to eat a dry piece of bread. My mom and my husband sat on the corner of the bed staring at me, not knowing what to do. My entire body was shaking uncontrollably, much like it had right before the surgery. I still do not know why I had that little episode that morning, but I am guessing it was just nerves or a reaction to a med. or just the aftermath of the surgery.
I pretty much slept through the entire day. I ate a little more after I rested, but I noticed something weird about my hands. They kept cramping up. My thumb would pull by itself towards my hand. I thought it was just the high TSH but I was wrong...later that evening I was in the emergency room for three hours because my body was going into tetany...or cramping due to extremely low calcium levels in the blood from damage the parathyroid gland.
I was terrified! My Blood Pressure was high, I had a make-shift IV in my arm, the freaking nurses in the ER had me laying in there for hours while they ran blood tests. This whole time, both of my hands were clenched in tight fists that I could not open. My entire mouth and jaw started to tingle like it was asleep, and I was just a nervous wreck, literally shivering in fear and saying Hail Marys to try to calm myself down. Finally one of the nurses gave me a shot of morphine, then when that didn't do much good, a sedative. He kept saying it was just tension causing my hands to cramp and that I just needed to relax--no, actually it was a life-threatening state of tetany. When I woke up from the sedative my hands were released and my husband told me that they had given me an IV of Calcium and Magnesium and had alerted my endo. and my surgeon of what happened. Later, my endo. told me that I could have died...information that would have been useful to know so that I would have known to take some calcium on my own! I finally got home at midnight and would have to take 9 calcium tablets a day for the next week plus a prescription for Vitamin D (Calcitriol).
I am just so glad that I had time off from work and several loving people to help me. I can not imagine having to go back to work on the following Monday of my surgery. My endo. said that after a surgery on a Thursday, some people go back to work on Monday...I needed a full two weeks to feel "normal." Guess I'm a weirdo!
"not really. just tired"
So, I slept. Crashed more like it. When I awoke I found that my best friend had been to the grocery store and purchased frozen smoothie mixes, ice cream, doritos, oatmeal cream pies, and pretty much any wonderful food I could imagine. When you're not hungry, but you need to eat, it helps to have your favorite junk foods on hand! My husband and my best friend were wonderful! They fed me, entertained me, and helped me walk to the restroom (didn't want a repeat of passing out after I sat and stood too quickly when I had my wisdom teeth out).
The days all kind of blurred together. I sat on one spot on the couch and watched movies with my head leaned back on a pillow. I read magazines, ate oatmeal cream pies, and drank chocolate milk. The chocolate milk was actually great for taking the horse-pill antibiotic I had to take--it was gigantic and DISGUSTING! I would burp up the flavor of dirt or rotten lettuce or something hard to describe every time I took it. I really didnt have to take any pain meds, though as there really wasn't much pain...just extreme fatigue and dizziness.
The fatigue and dizziness came from not having a vital hormone producing gland in my body anymore, and not being able to take the synthetic drug to replace the hormones produced by said gland. You see, you have to let your hormone levels get to a certain point (TSH 30) before you can take the Radioactive Iodine (RAI) pill. That way any leftover thyroid tissues will absorb the RAI and be obliterated so as to prevent recurrence of the cancer. So, during the wait for the levels to rise, you become more and more "hypothyroid." When my doctor first diagnosed my hypothyroidism, my TSH was at a 9. The normal level is between like 1 and 4 approximately, just to give you an idea of how high a TSH of 30 really is, and how terrible you feel when it gets that high.
The next day my mom came to visit and care for me as well. I woke up in the morning just shivering from head to foot. I couldn't even bear to eat a dry piece of bread. My mom and my husband sat on the corner of the bed staring at me, not knowing what to do. My entire body was shaking uncontrollably, much like it had right before the surgery. I still do not know why I had that little episode that morning, but I am guessing it was just nerves or a reaction to a med. or just the aftermath of the surgery.
I pretty much slept through the entire day. I ate a little more after I rested, but I noticed something weird about my hands. They kept cramping up. My thumb would pull by itself towards my hand. I thought it was just the high TSH but I was wrong...later that evening I was in the emergency room for three hours because my body was going into tetany...or cramping due to extremely low calcium levels in the blood from damage the parathyroid gland.
I was terrified! My Blood Pressure was high, I had a make-shift IV in my arm, the freaking nurses in the ER had me laying in there for hours while they ran blood tests. This whole time, both of my hands were clenched in tight fists that I could not open. My entire mouth and jaw started to tingle like it was asleep, and I was just a nervous wreck, literally shivering in fear and saying Hail Marys to try to calm myself down. Finally one of the nurses gave me a shot of morphine, then when that didn't do much good, a sedative. He kept saying it was just tension causing my hands to cramp and that I just needed to relax--no, actually it was a life-threatening state of tetany. When I woke up from the sedative my hands were released and my husband told me that they had given me an IV of Calcium and Magnesium and had alerted my endo. and my surgeon of what happened. Later, my endo. told me that I could have died...information that would have been useful to know so that I would have known to take some calcium on my own! I finally got home at midnight and would have to take 9 calcium tablets a day for the next week plus a prescription for Vitamin D (Calcitriol).
I am just so glad that I had time off from work and several loving people to help me. I can not imagine having to go back to work on the following Monday of my surgery. My endo. said that after a surgery on a Thursday, some people go back to work on Monday...I needed a full two weeks to feel "normal." Guess I'm a weirdo!
Overnighter at the Hospital
"You're lucky"
were the final words from the impatient nurse in the recovery room. I was wheeled to my own room where I would spend the next 30 hours in bed with a bloody drainage bubble stitched to my neck. Sooooo Lucky, let me tell ya! Well, apparently it was intern/nurse-training week because not only did I have a registered nurse in the room with me,but I had two other young ladies who looked and acted like they'd never been in a hospital room before. When I complained of feeling sweaty and extremely hot, the RN went rummaging through my covers and found extra folded blankets underneath the two that were already covering me, "are you saving these for later?" she asked jokingly and so as to instruct the interns. I also had several scabby cotton balls on various parts of my body where blood had been drawn or meds administered, so they went to work to get rid of the unnecessary bandages to make me look (and feel) more human than trash bin. I could not move my neck; it was extremely stiff and every time I happened to glance down, the bloody-drain bubble made me want to gag or pass out or something. I mostly rested, watched tv during the day.
The nurses asked me to let them know when I needed pain meds or if I felt any tingling in my hands (hypocalcemia). My blood pressure, temperature and oxygen saturation were monitored closely, every hour I believe. Several different nurses seemed to come in shifts. One nurse had had her thyroid out and showed me her barely visible scar. Two of the nurses were male, both very attentive. One of the nurses was female but might have once been male? One nurse came to check my vitals, one nurse came to help me go to the restroom, one nurse came when I needed pain meds, one nurse came when some machine attached to me started beeping loudly (no big deal my leg compressors turned off somehow--those were weird no way to sleep with those things squeezing your legs every 30 sec.), one nurse came in to give me a calcium IV when my hands went numb, one nurse came in to remove the calcium IV when my Dr. told her to take it off (wouldn't know why specifically until later), the day blended into the night. With only a few hours of sleep and a diet of jello and chicken broth, I felt pretty blah the next day.
I made it through the night, so the next day I just had to wait for Dr. A to release me. My drainage tube was showing very little, I had little to no pain and all of my vitals were fine. Just had to wait for Dr. A. So, we waited. and waited. and waited. My best friend who was going to spend a few days with me through the recovery came down and had to wait with us at the hospital for two hours. I was feeling pretty good, just tired and stiff necked.
Finally, Dr. A rolled in and apologized. He said my tube looked good and proceeded to rip it, literally RIP IT out of my flesh! I have never felt more pain! My friend asked if the little hole from the tube (which he was applying pressure to for several seconds) would show beneath the incision site. He said no but that is not true! But, I will describe my scar in detail later. He placed some steri-strips over the incision and we were free to go home! I felt fairly normal, relieved at having endured the worst part...but I was wrong...
were the final words from the impatient nurse in the recovery room. I was wheeled to my own room where I would spend the next 30 hours in bed with a bloody drainage bubble stitched to my neck. Sooooo Lucky, let me tell ya! Well, apparently it was intern/nurse-training week because not only did I have a registered nurse in the room with me,but I had two other young ladies who looked and acted like they'd never been in a hospital room before. When I complained of feeling sweaty and extremely hot, the RN went rummaging through my covers and found extra folded blankets underneath the two that were already covering me, "are you saving these for later?" she asked jokingly and so as to instruct the interns. I also had several scabby cotton balls on various parts of my body where blood had been drawn or meds administered, so they went to work to get rid of the unnecessary bandages to make me look (and feel) more human than trash bin. I could not move my neck; it was extremely stiff and every time I happened to glance down, the bloody-drain bubble made me want to gag or pass out or something. I mostly rested, watched tv during the day.
The nurses asked me to let them know when I needed pain meds or if I felt any tingling in my hands (hypocalcemia). My blood pressure, temperature and oxygen saturation were monitored closely, every hour I believe. Several different nurses seemed to come in shifts. One nurse had had her thyroid out and showed me her barely visible scar. Two of the nurses were male, both very attentive. One of the nurses was female but might have once been male? One nurse came to check my vitals, one nurse came to help me go to the restroom, one nurse came when I needed pain meds, one nurse came when some machine attached to me started beeping loudly (no big deal my leg compressors turned off somehow--those were weird no way to sleep with those things squeezing your legs every 30 sec.), one nurse came in to give me a calcium IV when my hands went numb, one nurse came in to remove the calcium IV when my Dr. told her to take it off (wouldn't know why specifically until later), the day blended into the night. With only a few hours of sleep and a diet of jello and chicken broth, I felt pretty blah the next day.
I made it through the night, so the next day I just had to wait for Dr. A to release me. My drainage tube was showing very little, I had little to no pain and all of my vitals were fine. Just had to wait for Dr. A. So, we waited. and waited. and waited. My best friend who was going to spend a few days with me through the recovery came down and had to wait with us at the hospital for two hours. I was feeling pretty good, just tired and stiff necked.
Finally, Dr. A rolled in and apologized. He said my tube looked good and proceeded to rip it, literally RIP IT out of my flesh! I have never felt more pain! My friend asked if the little hole from the tube (which he was applying pressure to for several seconds) would show beneath the incision site. He said no but that is not true! But, I will describe my scar in detail later. He placed some steri-strips over the incision and we were free to go home! I felt fairly normal, relieved at having endured the worst part...but I was wrong...
Friday, February 18, 2011
Waiting...
"So how are you doing?"
I heard this several times throughout the next couple of weeks leading up to my total thyroidectomy on November 18th. Honestly, work was the only thing keeping me from having a total anxiety attack. You have to keep it somewhat together when 150+ people rely on you for instruction and guidance. I made final arrangements for family and friends to visit and for a substitute teacher to come in the last two days before Thanksgiving break. Those two weeks flew by...
The night before my surgery, I was able to fall asleep easily, thanks to a prescription from my doctor, but that morning I was extremely nervous.
We were running late. I tried calling the hospital, but I had the wrong number. We didn't know where to park. We were rushed in to meet with a strange guy in a suit about payment. Already my legs and arms were twitching uncontrollably. Nerves.
I changed out of my own clothes into a pale, ugly hospital gown, and a puffy shower cap and socks. I lay down on the hospital bed as tremors seized every muscle in my body. My legs were kicking, neck twitching, chest convulsing. The anesthesiologist wanted to give me something urgently to ease my extreme anxiety, but, no, I had to wait for Dr. A. to come in and conference with me, and I had to sign a consent form and apparently give verbal consent as well. Finally, the IV was inserted correctly, it took a few painful tries (I am already squeamish of needles), and I was given something that made the tremors stop, but I was still awake.
Away I rolled down the florescent hallway. We stopped beneath a mistletoe and John, Pam and Dan gave me a kiss before I was finally wheeled into the operating room. I felt like I was on an episode of "House" or "ER." Large metal discs and lights hovered over a steel, rectangular altar. I lifted myself from the now-seemingly comfortable bed to the higher metal one. I lay down. Darkness.
Sound came first. A voice speaking my name. I replied, feeling a salty, swollen lump on my upper lip with my tongue. They told me to open my eyes, but some gel was sealing them shut. I told them several times to wipe them off. I was given lip balm and ice cubes. My mouth was parched! A needle was jabbed into my wrist by an impatient male nurse who figured I wouldn't know the difference. I hardly felt the pierce, but the emotional wound lingered. He bumped my bed several times. John's voice emerged from the darkness: "Dr. A. said the surgery went really well. You also have a room to yourself." Thank goodness! They wheeled me to my room...to be continued.
I heard this several times throughout the next couple of weeks leading up to my total thyroidectomy on November 18th. Honestly, work was the only thing keeping me from having a total anxiety attack. You have to keep it somewhat together when 150+ people rely on you for instruction and guidance. I made final arrangements for family and friends to visit and for a substitute teacher to come in the last two days before Thanksgiving break. Those two weeks flew by...
The night before my surgery, I was able to fall asleep easily, thanks to a prescription from my doctor, but that morning I was extremely nervous.
We were running late. I tried calling the hospital, but I had the wrong number. We didn't know where to park. We were rushed in to meet with a strange guy in a suit about payment. Already my legs and arms were twitching uncontrollably. Nerves.
I changed out of my own clothes into a pale, ugly hospital gown, and a puffy shower cap and socks. I lay down on the hospital bed as tremors seized every muscle in my body. My legs were kicking, neck twitching, chest convulsing. The anesthesiologist wanted to give me something urgently to ease my extreme anxiety, but, no, I had to wait for Dr. A. to come in and conference with me, and I had to sign a consent form and apparently give verbal consent as well. Finally, the IV was inserted correctly, it took a few painful tries (I am already squeamish of needles), and I was given something that made the tremors stop, but I was still awake.
Away I rolled down the florescent hallway. We stopped beneath a mistletoe and John, Pam and Dan gave me a kiss before I was finally wheeled into the operating room. I felt like I was on an episode of "House" or "ER." Large metal discs and lights hovered over a steel, rectangular altar. I lifted myself from the now-seemingly comfortable bed to the higher metal one. I lay down. Darkness.
Sound came first. A voice speaking my name. I replied, feeling a salty, swollen lump on my upper lip with my tongue. They told me to open my eyes, but some gel was sealing them shut. I told them several times to wipe them off. I was given lip balm and ice cubes. My mouth was parched! A needle was jabbed into my wrist by an impatient male nurse who figured I wouldn't know the difference. I hardly felt the pierce, but the emotional wound lingered. He bumped my bed several times. John's voice emerged from the darkness: "Dr. A. said the surgery went really well. You also have a room to yourself." Thank goodness! They wheeled me to my room...to be continued.
Monday, December 13, 2010
The Surgeon
"Dr. 'A' will leave a nice scar," my endo. recommended.
Well, that is reassuring. Honestly, the scar was the least of my worries. I knew that papillary carcinoma is not aggressive, but the entire time I was waiting to meet with the surgeon, I couldn't help thinking that it would spread. I literally asked my endocrinologist and/or her nurse hundreds of questions about the surgery, the recovery, life after the surgery, and the radioactive iodine treatment. I read some terrifying blogs about life after thyroid surgery and scared myself terribly. (Note to others: avoid gloom and doom blogs, but educate yourself, ask questions, be prepared, be your own advocate, take a friend with you into the Dr.'s room to back you up). I had some night terrors--different from nightmares because it actually feels real and takes your breath away. I thought a giant spider was lowering from the ceiling fan to the bed and I literally jumped out of bed and screamed, waking John, and forced him to search the covers and the entire room, closets, bathroom and all. Kind of funny now.
I worried when my hair seemed to be falling out faster from taking Synthroid, I researched Synthroid, Cytomel, and Tirosint. My endo. refused to entertain the idea of Armour (pig thyroid chopped up and made into pills--blah.) but a combination of Synthroid and Cytomel worked much better than Synthroid alone. Tirosint is pure T4 without all of the additives that make Synthroid, but difficult to find for pharmacies apparently. Express Scripts has it, though. I journaled every little ache and pain just to be sure there weren't any side effects from the meds. I worried about weight gain, osteoperosis, dementia, and fertility. My endo. reassured me that everything was manageable with the medication. Hopefully I'll never have to survive alone in the wilderness.
Finally I met with Dr. A. Wow. What a decorated surgeon--one of the best in Houston which says a lot, he was even featured on a talk show (forgot which one). He was extremely reassuring. His hands were strong and steady--good to know for a plastic surgeon, he was friendly and sociable, chatting with John about Air Force stories and complimentary to me "I bet all the teenage guys have a crush on you" to which I always say, "maybe at first..." and he compared me to his daughter my age. He just did everything right. He told us that he does this surgery 3-5 times a week and it would only take about 45 minutes to an hour. I literally felt like a weight had been lifted.
During this time,more and more letters, texts, cards, and emails flooded my mailboxes. My family and friends sent beautiful Bible versus and encouraging words. My aunts, uncles and grandma in Oregon and Washington sent multiple cards. My aunts in Austin emailed and called me and added me to their prayer chains. My best friends sent cards and called for updates. My parents, sister and brother texted and called nearly every day. I had a Mass said for me. My co-workers reached out and lent an ear to my incessant worrying. A church in Tennessee prayed for me and sent me a card because our good friends here told their parents in Knox/Nashville about my situation. My Parents (in law) called frequently, prayed for me and made it to some of the Dr. visits. My students and even some of their parents inquired about my health and sent well-wishes and offered to help. I am truly blessed.
Well, that is reassuring. Honestly, the scar was the least of my worries. I knew that papillary carcinoma is not aggressive, but the entire time I was waiting to meet with the surgeon, I couldn't help thinking that it would spread. I literally asked my endocrinologist and/or her nurse hundreds of questions about the surgery, the recovery, life after the surgery, and the radioactive iodine treatment. I read some terrifying blogs about life after thyroid surgery and scared myself terribly. (Note to others: avoid gloom and doom blogs, but educate yourself, ask questions, be prepared, be your own advocate, take a friend with you into the Dr.'s room to back you up). I had some night terrors--different from nightmares because it actually feels real and takes your breath away. I thought a giant spider was lowering from the ceiling fan to the bed and I literally jumped out of bed and screamed, waking John, and forced him to search the covers and the entire room, closets, bathroom and all. Kind of funny now.
I worried when my hair seemed to be falling out faster from taking Synthroid, I researched Synthroid, Cytomel, and Tirosint. My endo. refused to entertain the idea of Armour (pig thyroid chopped up and made into pills--blah.) but a combination of Synthroid and Cytomel worked much better than Synthroid alone. Tirosint is pure T4 without all of the additives that make Synthroid, but difficult to find for pharmacies apparently. Express Scripts has it, though. I journaled every little ache and pain just to be sure there weren't any side effects from the meds. I worried about weight gain, osteoperosis, dementia, and fertility. My endo. reassured me that everything was manageable with the medication. Hopefully I'll never have to survive alone in the wilderness.
Finally I met with Dr. A. Wow. What a decorated surgeon--one of the best in Houston which says a lot, he was even featured on a talk show (forgot which one). He was extremely reassuring. His hands were strong and steady--good to know for a plastic surgeon, he was friendly and sociable, chatting with John about Air Force stories and complimentary to me "I bet all the teenage guys have a crush on you" to which I always say, "maybe at first..." and he compared me to his daughter my age. He just did everything right. He told us that he does this surgery 3-5 times a week and it would only take about 45 minutes to an hour. I literally felt like a weight had been lifted.
During this time,more and more letters, texts, cards, and emails flooded my mailboxes. My family and friends sent beautiful Bible versus and encouraging words. My aunts, uncles and grandma in Oregon and Washington sent multiple cards. My aunts in Austin emailed and called me and added me to their prayer chains. My best friends sent cards and called for updates. My parents, sister and brother texted and called nearly every day. I had a Mass said for me. My co-workers reached out and lent an ear to my incessant worrying. A church in Tennessee prayed for me and sent me a card because our good friends here told their parents in Knox/Nashville about my situation. My Parents (in law) called frequently, prayed for me and made it to some of the Dr. visits. My students and even some of their parents inquired about my health and sent well-wishes and offered to help. I am truly blessed.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
How it all began...
"Don't worry, papillary cancer is the best kind of cancer you can have..."
So said my endocrinologist after my second fine needle aspiration of my nodular thyroid. I nearly vomited. I immediately started crying, and when John came home, he cried too. I was angry, I was afraid. I ran a marathon a year ago, no one in my family has ever had this type of cancer, I do not live around radiation...how in the hell did I get thyroid cancer? I began questioning every lifestyle choice I've ever made. Was it too much splenda? Was it from using an iphone? Was it from taking several flights over the last year for vacation? Do I live near a nuclear power plant and not know it? Did the Synthroid I was taking to help my hypothyroid symptoms cause the cancer? I had just started within the year that they found the cancer...how infuriating would that be? Was it stress? Am I causing more stress by stressing about too much stress...dizzying! The simple answer is, it just happens. After the diagnosis John and I went through a whirlwind of tests and second opinions and Doctor visits and researching surgeons and breaking the news to friends and family. Malignancy confirmed, we booked a complete thyroidectomy with a top-rated plastic surgeon who stated that he does "3-5" of these surgeries every week. Whaaaa? I remembered reading about the rising rate of thyroid cancer in my Shape magazine. What the heck causes this? My endocrinologist whined "it's not like breast cancer where there are massive amounts of funding for research...nor is it like breast cancer...but there is a slightly increased risk of getting breast cancer after finding thyroid cancer..." Is that supposed to make me feel better? It's just thyroid cancer? Just chop the thing out and be dependent on medication to prevent you from lapsing into a coma and dying? Sighhhh. Thank God for my family and friends who offered words of encouragement and lifted us up in their thoughts and prayers. I just decided that all I could be was thankful that we caught it, that I have an amazing husband who literally cared for me around the clock, neglecting work and athletic training for his ironman and school work, and that we have the means to treat it. That is what I have decided. I am thankful and eager to share this story to shed light on this experience.
So said my endocrinologist after my second fine needle aspiration of my nodular thyroid. I nearly vomited. I immediately started crying, and when John came home, he cried too. I was angry, I was afraid. I ran a marathon a year ago, no one in my family has ever had this type of cancer, I do not live around radiation...how in the hell did I get thyroid cancer? I began questioning every lifestyle choice I've ever made. Was it too much splenda? Was it from using an iphone? Was it from taking several flights over the last year for vacation? Do I live near a nuclear power plant and not know it? Did the Synthroid I was taking to help my hypothyroid symptoms cause the cancer? I had just started within the year that they found the cancer...how infuriating would that be? Was it stress? Am I causing more stress by stressing about too much stress...dizzying! The simple answer is, it just happens. After the diagnosis John and I went through a whirlwind of tests and second opinions and Doctor visits and researching surgeons and breaking the news to friends and family. Malignancy confirmed, we booked a complete thyroidectomy with a top-rated plastic surgeon who stated that he does "3-5" of these surgeries every week. Whaaaa? I remembered reading about the rising rate of thyroid cancer in my Shape magazine. What the heck causes this? My endocrinologist whined "it's not like breast cancer where there are massive amounts of funding for research...nor is it like breast cancer...but there is a slightly increased risk of getting breast cancer after finding thyroid cancer..." Is that supposed to make me feel better? It's just thyroid cancer? Just chop the thing out and be dependent on medication to prevent you from lapsing into a coma and dying? Sighhhh. Thank God for my family and friends who offered words of encouragement and lifted us up in their thoughts and prayers. I just decided that all I could be was thankful that we caught it, that I have an amazing husband who literally cared for me around the clock, neglecting work and athletic training for his ironman and school work, and that we have the means to treat it. That is what I have decided. I am thankful and eager to share this story to shed light on this experience.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
First Entry
Well, I just had a thyroidectomy a week ago, and while I am still recovering, I have decided to start a new blog dedicated to writing about whatever my heart desires. Enjoy!
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