This past Saturday my mother and I spent the afternoon together. We decided we would catch a movie and then an early dinner afterward. We both ate breakfast but skipped lunch and met at the theater at 11:30 for a 1:35 showing to buy our tickets early and shmy at Tuesday Morning first. (It's a Yiddish word. Look it up)
We sat on the phone earlier that morning while I went online to see what theaters were playing what movies. My mother won't see any movie that has aliens, monsters, or men at war. That limited our choices. She likes schmaltzy love stories and with a few exceptions those usually make me want to barf. We narrowed it down to one film we both wanted to see - "The Fault in Our Stars".
I knew it was supposed to be a movie that you either needed a to bring a box of tissues with you or grab a pile of napkins along with your popcorn. What I didn't know was that the heroine of the movie had thyroid cancer that had advanced to her lungs and her prognosis was sketchy. This tidbit of information assaulted me quite early on in the film and it was as if I was punched in the solar plexus. I gasped. I needed air. I felt claustrophobic.
I was still in the miasma of the unknown waiting to hear if one of the lymph nodes left untouched by my last surgery was cancerous. It was a hard movie for me to watch but I was very glad that that was the cancer she had. Thyroid cancer has been minimized by most of the medical community for way too long. "It's the easy cancer." "We have thyroid replacement drugs and you won't even know you don't have a thyroid anymore." I call bullshit!
I am not going to play my tiny violin. I am not going to whine or stand on a soapbox. I hope this movie makes people wake up to the fact that thyroid cancer shouldn't be patted on the head and told to be quiet. It is important to also note that other types of cancers were represented in the film and not just the one that has pink ribbons or football players wearing pink athletic shoes.
This morning I am still feeling like a bird let out of a cage no longer trapped. It is good to be free.
Showing posts with label Thyroid cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thyroid cancer. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
And the Results Are..............
No Cancer found in any of the biopsy specimens!
Tip one back and celebrate with me. The clock has stopped ticking.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Yes, Again
Dr. Lupo is always late to his appointments. I resigned myself to that fact when I first starting seeing him. On the other hand, he never rushes in and rushes out. He spends as much time with you as needed and you never feel like you are a pain in the ass to him. He is slightly built with sharp features and a sharp wit. Here is the doctor that watches me for signs of cancer and he always has me laughing. An office visit with the potential of feeling like a wake is instead filled with his bright personality that doesn't allow the darkness to squeeze itself in.
I have answered all of the required questions and filled out the forms on the clipboard. I've been weighed and brought back to one of the exam rooms and told it was a temporary pit stop because I will be moved to the room with the ultrasound equipment shortly. While waiting, I read my book and it helps me remove myself from the current situation, but not for long. I reach over to the left side of my neck with my right hand and find the nodule. OK. It's still there and I didn't imagine it. It hasn't miraculously disappeared. I am right to be here.
The nurse comes in, retrieves me, and we walk to the exam room with the ultrasound equipment and I am told that Dr. Lupo will be in soon to see me. We all know it will be more than a few minutes so I hunker down again, find my place in the book, and continue reading.
There is the quiet knock on the door and in walks my doc. I once again notice his black hair and slender fingers. His smile softens his features and puts me at ease. I do believe he must have changed barbers or hairdressers because I really like the way his hair is cut but I don't have the nerve to broach the topic. It would probably come out all wrong and then I would be stepping all over myself trying to dig my way out of an increasingly embarrassing situation.
He thanks me for being there. Say what?! You heard right, sister. He thanked me for coming in. I try to turn it around and I thank him for making room for me today. He laughs it off and says, "With your history I said bring her on in. We'll take a look at what the problem is."
I show him where the nodule is located and he palpates it. He doesn't think it is a lymph node but lets get the ultrasound going so we have more information. I move to the table and lie down. We get under way and he's thinking out loud and tells me so. I tell him I would rather hear that than nothing.
There appears to be blood flowing through it so he suggests a fine needle biopsy. I've been through those before and they are far from enjoyable. Like another solar system away from enjoyable. I would say galaxy but that would be pushing it.
He gets his nurse in the room and jokes are flying and I can't help but laugh which gets his nurse quietly giggling. Ice is the numbing agent as the lump in question is close to the surface. First needle, second needle, third needle. Done. I take in a deep breath and let it out. Dr. Lupo comments, "Well, she's still breathing." He gives me ice wrapped in gauze and tells me to hold it there while he and his nurse exit.
When they return Dr. Lupo isn't smiling. He looks worried when he tells me that it is in fact a lymph node and he wants to take one more biopsy and this one will hurt more than the others. When he left it was to look at some of the material under his own microscope and that is what he discovered. It is lymph tissue.
I put on my life jacket because the waves have started to crash into the boat and I'll be damned if I am going down. Ice, needle, pain, done. Doc then tells me it hurt more because it was a larger gauge needle to get more tissue but he didn't want to scare me.
I will hear something in 3 to 10 days. If the results are conclusive, it will be closer to the 3 days. If more testing is needed it will be closer to the 10 days. His office will call me and either give me the news over the phone or ask me to come in.
In my head there is now a clock with a countdown. The only time I don't hear it ticking is when I am asleep.
I have answered all of the required questions and filled out the forms on the clipboard. I've been weighed and brought back to one of the exam rooms and told it was a temporary pit stop because I will be moved to the room with the ultrasound equipment shortly. While waiting, I read my book and it helps me remove myself from the current situation, but not for long. I reach over to the left side of my neck with my right hand and find the nodule. OK. It's still there and I didn't imagine it. It hasn't miraculously disappeared. I am right to be here.
The nurse comes in, retrieves me, and we walk to the exam room with the ultrasound equipment and I am told that Dr. Lupo will be in soon to see me. We all know it will be more than a few minutes so I hunker down again, find my place in the book, and continue reading.
There is the quiet knock on the door and in walks my doc. I once again notice his black hair and slender fingers. His smile softens his features and puts me at ease. I do believe he must have changed barbers or hairdressers because I really like the way his hair is cut but I don't have the nerve to broach the topic. It would probably come out all wrong and then I would be stepping all over myself trying to dig my way out of an increasingly embarrassing situation.
He thanks me for being there. Say what?! You heard right, sister. He thanked me for coming in. I try to turn it around and I thank him for making room for me today. He laughs it off and says, "With your history I said bring her on in. We'll take a look at what the problem is."
I show him where the nodule is located and he palpates it. He doesn't think it is a lymph node but lets get the ultrasound going so we have more information. I move to the table and lie down. We get under way and he's thinking out loud and tells me so. I tell him I would rather hear that than nothing.
There appears to be blood flowing through it so he suggests a fine needle biopsy. I've been through those before and they are far from enjoyable. Like another solar system away from enjoyable. I would say galaxy but that would be pushing it.
He gets his nurse in the room and jokes are flying and I can't help but laugh which gets his nurse quietly giggling. Ice is the numbing agent as the lump in question is close to the surface. First needle, second needle, third needle. Done. I take in a deep breath and let it out. Dr. Lupo comments, "Well, she's still breathing." He gives me ice wrapped in gauze and tells me to hold it there while he and his nurse exit.
When they return Dr. Lupo isn't smiling. He looks worried when he tells me that it is in fact a lymph node and he wants to take one more biopsy and this one will hurt more than the others. When he left it was to look at some of the material under his own microscope and that is what he discovered. It is lymph tissue.
I put on my life jacket because the waves have started to crash into the boat and I'll be damned if I am going down. Ice, needle, pain, done. Doc then tells me it hurt more because it was a larger gauge needle to get more tissue but he didn't want to scare me.
I will hear something in 3 to 10 days. If the results are conclusive, it will be closer to the 3 days. If more testing is needed it will be closer to the 10 days. His office will call me and either give me the news over the phone or ask me to come in.
In my head there is now a clock with a countdown. The only time I don't hear it ticking is when I am asleep.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Not Again
It was just another morning at work. Pete, the maintenance man extraordinaire, and I were talking while he was collecting the kitchen garbage to be hauled out to the street for pick-up. I have no idea why I did this or what prompted me to do it but without thinking I reached up with my right hand to touch a spot on the left lower part of my neck. I felt a small lump. A nodule which shouldn't be there. WTF. I kept my finger on it and asked Pete, as he was walking the garbage to the front door, if he would take a look at it. He said "Sure" because that is the kind of guy Pete is. We got close to the window and I took my finger off of the spot. Pete said, "Yeah. I see something. You can see it. It's a little lump." To which I replied, "Is it under a scar?" Pete said, "No."
I thanked him and said out loud to no one that now I had to call my doctor.
I don't want to go through this again.
I walked into my office, grabbed my purse, and pulled out my wallet to look for my endocrinologist's business card. I was panicking. My emotional response was immediate.
Felicia, one of my co-workers fantastico, walked over to my office and stopped at the door. I told her what was going on and yes, I started tearing up.
I don't want to go through this again.
Felicia is an excellent listener. When I apologized for my obvious loss of control of my emotions, she said if it were her she would be doing the same thing. I shouldn't worry about it. She didn't pepper with me with questions I couldn't answer but instead let me talk and made it clear to me that she understood. She was supportive without going overboard and didn't fall apart with me.
After digging around I had to admit to myself that I didn't have the doc's business card so I went online. Through all of this Felicia stood by until I picked up the phone to call his office.
I feel better because of Felicia. I don't know that I will have to go through this again.
I got through to the office and after explaining the situation to the woman that answered the phone she passed me on to my doctor's nurse, Melissa....I think. I am so bad with names. She pulled up my chart and started asking me questions. What was the size of it? Where exactly was it located? In order to answer that question I had to walk to the bathroom and look in the mirror. I kept leaving the bathroom and she would have another question and I kept having to walk back in. We ended up laughing about it because she could hear me opening the bathroom door over and over. She tried to catch Dr. Lupo (yes, like the wolf) between patients but wasn't successful so she said she would have to call me back.
Felicia staunched the emotional bleeding some more simply by listening to me as I tried to busy myself as I waited. I didn't know if Dr. Lupo would see me or if he would send me to my primary care first. After a few minutes she and I went back to our respective offices. It wasn't too long a wait when my cell phone rang.
Hope. Please good news.
It was the original woman that answered the phone asking me if I could come in at 4 pm as Dr. Lupo wants to see me and perform an ultrasound, too. Felicia had walked to the door of her office and was looking at me. "Yes", I said. "I can come in at 4." Felicia nodded in agreement. The woman reiterated it was today at 4 pm and I reconfirmed.
I thanked him and said out loud to no one that now I had to call my doctor.
I don't want to go through this again.
I walked into my office, grabbed my purse, and pulled out my wallet to look for my endocrinologist's business card. I was panicking. My emotional response was immediate.
Felicia, one of my co-workers fantastico, walked over to my office and stopped at the door. I told her what was going on and yes, I started tearing up.
I don't want to go through this again.
Felicia is an excellent listener. When I apologized for my obvious loss of control of my emotions, she said if it were her she would be doing the same thing. I shouldn't worry about it. She didn't pepper with me with questions I couldn't answer but instead let me talk and made it clear to me that she understood. She was supportive without going overboard and didn't fall apart with me.
After digging around I had to admit to myself that I didn't have the doc's business card so I went online. Through all of this Felicia stood by until I picked up the phone to call his office.
I feel better because of Felicia. I don't know that I will have to go through this again.
I got through to the office and after explaining the situation to the woman that answered the phone she passed me on to my doctor's nurse, Melissa....I think. I am so bad with names. She pulled up my chart and started asking me questions. What was the size of it? Where exactly was it located? In order to answer that question I had to walk to the bathroom and look in the mirror. I kept leaving the bathroom and she would have another question and I kept having to walk back in. We ended up laughing about it because she could hear me opening the bathroom door over and over. She tried to catch Dr. Lupo (yes, like the wolf) between patients but wasn't successful so she said she would have to call me back.
Felicia staunched the emotional bleeding some more simply by listening to me as I tried to busy myself as I waited. I didn't know if Dr. Lupo would see me or if he would send me to my primary care first. After a few minutes she and I went back to our respective offices. It wasn't too long a wait when my cell phone rang.
Hope. Please good news.
It was the original woman that answered the phone asking me if I could come in at 4 pm as Dr. Lupo wants to see me and perform an ultrasound, too. Felicia had walked to the door of her office and was looking at me. "Yes", I said. "I can come in at 4." Felicia nodded in agreement. The woman reiterated it was today at 4 pm and I reconfirmed.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
On Turning 54
My hardest birthday was my 29th. I had just one more year left in my twenties and then I would officially be old, at least that was what I was thinking. It wasn't like I had to come to terms with things like no more partying, acting mature, or putting others ahead of myself. I had been knee deep in just the opposite since I had turned 21. My life was full of responsibility with my marriage and two children. It was about losing my youth. At what point will my hair start to lose its color? Will I end up being like the women I observed playing Mahjongg with my mother? As a teenager I promised myself that would never happen. Will I lose my identity?
Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I could not fight getting older. More birthdays came and went without fanfare. Through the years the changes weren't a big deal until Thyroid Cancer busted through the swinging tavern doors making the kind of entrance that causes the poker players to look away from their cards, the drunk to find the energy to lift their heads, and the piano player to stop mid phrase.
I lost control over my body and rudely learned what being a non-person was like. I was being harshly judged by ignorance.
I lost control over my future. How many birthdays did I have left? I learned that I never really had control over that in the first place. Another painful lesson.
Each time cancer drove me to learn something, it was like being tortured on the rack forced into stretching my mind to make changes at my core.
Recently I was reading on Facebook someone describing losing two people within weeks of each other. Both were in their mid to late sixties. I did the simple math in my head and was slapped with the realization that I am but a mere 12 to 14 years away from their ages. Everyone has experienced the phenomenon of the relativity of time. The older we get the faster it goes. As I look to turn 54 in a few months, the end gets closer and instead of it being blurry I am now able to make out some of the details. I started to panic because there was so much more I wanted to do and this time crunch thing was squeezing my ribs with vice like strength.
It has been a couple of years since Cancer has held me at gunpoint. I've had great reports after enduring my second surgery in 2010 and unbeknownst to me I had forgotten the lessons I had learned the primary one being tomorrow is never promised.
Young's Literal Translation of Proverbs 16:18 is "Before destruction is pride, And before stumbling -- a haughty spirit." These I know to be true from my personal experiences and how prideful is it to believe I am the one with the control? Nope. Not going to fall under that delusion again.
Rock on, my fine feathered friends. Oh - and about my hair and it losing its color - I started with a few white hairs but now it is more like what used to be a small intimate party is a houseful of guests because Word of Mouth can't keep quiet. Uninvited people keep showing up and you know they will be calling their friends to come join them. I am not going to cover up those white hairs. I earned them!
Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I could not fight getting older. More birthdays came and went without fanfare. Through the years the changes weren't a big deal until Thyroid Cancer busted through the swinging tavern doors making the kind of entrance that causes the poker players to look away from their cards, the drunk to find the energy to lift their heads, and the piano player to stop mid phrase.
I lost control over my body and rudely learned what being a non-person was like. I was being harshly judged by ignorance.
I lost control over my future. How many birthdays did I have left? I learned that I never really had control over that in the first place. Another painful lesson.
Each time cancer drove me to learn something, it was like being tortured on the rack forced into stretching my mind to make changes at my core.
Recently I was reading on Facebook someone describing losing two people within weeks of each other. Both were in their mid to late sixties. I did the simple math in my head and was slapped with the realization that I am but a mere 12 to 14 years away from their ages. Everyone has experienced the phenomenon of the relativity of time. The older we get the faster it goes. As I look to turn 54 in a few months, the end gets closer and instead of it being blurry I am now able to make out some of the details. I started to panic because there was so much more I wanted to do and this time crunch thing was squeezing my ribs with vice like strength.
It has been a couple of years since Cancer has held me at gunpoint. I've had great reports after enduring my second surgery in 2010 and unbeknownst to me I had forgotten the lessons I had learned the primary one being tomorrow is never promised.
Young's Literal Translation of Proverbs 16:18 is "Before destruction is pride, And before stumbling -- a haughty spirit." These I know to be true from my personal experiences and how prideful is it to believe I am the one with the control? Nope. Not going to fall under that delusion again.
Rock on, my fine feathered friends. Oh - and about my hair and it losing its color - I started with a few white hairs but now it is more like what used to be a small intimate party is a houseful of guests because Word of Mouth can't keep quiet. Uninvited people keep showing up and you know they will be calling their friends to come join them. I am not going to cover up those white hairs. I earned them!
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Test Results, etc.
My latest cancer test results were not what I expected or wanted. The numbers were higher than the last time I was tested a little over a year ago. It took me weeks to absorb this bad news. It wasn't the doctor that called me but his nurse and she had no idea why I wasn't dancing in the streets over the results after all, they were less than 1. Nothing gets done when the results are under a 1.
She didn't know I've been through this yearly number increase before and ended up needing a second more extreme surgery. On top of that I have some sort of knobby growths one on the top of my left foot and the other on my forehead near my hairline. I've had three courses of radioactive iodine treatment so secondary cancer is in the back of my mind. I see my general practitioner today to talk to her about that and also getting refills on prescriptions.
My personal life is full of crazy shit including Jim's bat shit-ass crazy ex-wife. My mom is slowly losing her mind and with that even more of her histrionic personality presents itself as the "I shouldn't say that" filter erodes. I am in the throes of foreclosure because of my bat shit-ass crazy ex-husband.
"Drugs are bad, mmkay?"
So, the good things are that Jim and I are seeing an excellent nurse/social worker. She is definitely heaven sent with that combination! I have the best boss ever! I have the best dog ever! Let's just end this on a high note, mmkay?
She didn't know I've been through this yearly number increase before and ended up needing a second more extreme surgery. On top of that I have some sort of knobby growths one on the top of my left foot and the other on my forehead near my hairline. I've had three courses of radioactive iodine treatment so secondary cancer is in the back of my mind. I see my general practitioner today to talk to her about that and also getting refills on prescriptions.
My personal life is full of crazy shit including Jim's bat shit-ass crazy ex-wife. My mom is slowly losing her mind and with that even more of her histrionic personality presents itself as the "I shouldn't say that" filter erodes. I am in the throes of foreclosure because of my bat shit-ass crazy ex-husband.
"Drugs are bad, mmkay?"
So, the good things are that Jim and I are seeing an excellent nurse/social worker. She is definitely heaven sent with that combination! I have the best boss ever! I have the best dog ever! Let's just end this on a high note, mmkay?
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Scrapings from the bottom of the frying pan
First Scraping
I have a $5,000 deductible on my health insurance. This is for Individual coverage, mind you. If I had Family coverage, it would be $10,000. When I last saw my endocrinologist we discussed me getting a series of shots and then a blood test that will give me a true reading as to the possibility of the thyroid cancer growing again. This can't be done by only drawing blood and then running tests because my thyroid medication is dosed to keep me at a certain level of whatever that inhibits cancer cell growth. (I'm sure you don't want a science lesson here so I'm keeping it simple.) The shots are very expensive....somewhere to the tune of $2,000. When my doc found out what my deductible was, he offered another suggestion. Since I had the neck dissection one year ago, we could bypass the shots/blood test and just do the neck ultrasound this September. He said I should make the ultrasound appointment in the morning and then an office appointment with him same day in the afternoon. I thought that was a good idea and agreed to it.
Now that it has been a month and a half since I made that decision, I realize it isn't going to work for me. It was these annual shots/testing results that made me want to change docs in the first place. (See earlier posts.)
Second Scraping
It's Spring and I am back to mowing and planting. I love all of it. I feel so much satisfaction after having mowed a row, turning around and seeing the difference in the height of the grass. I could compare it to the immediate results one experiences when ironing clothes, but I hate ironing. Actually, I hate everything about ironing except for the hiss a steam iron makes when setting it back upright. That's kind of cool.
I love all of the different flowers, except for orange marigolds. I look at them and feel pissed off. Weird, right? They are innocent and I am holding back from snapping off their heads. Other than my issues with marigolds, I find the differences in flower's leaf construction, bloom, colors, textures, and smells intriguing. My blood pressure lowers and I just want to sit and stare. I could sit on the forest floor for hours taking in the different sounds the trees, animals, and bugs make. I love the patterns of light made by the sun's rays shining through the canopy overhead. Where the sun breaks through those spots are warm and toasty.
Third Scraping
I don't like sweating. Because of my medication, I sweat more easily and it is gross. I won't even try to pretend this is not gross by calling it perspiration. If I just sweated from my armpits, I would be almost OK with that but my head is the sweatiest part of my body. Sweat runs through my hair down my neck and behind my ears. It interferes with my vision as it falls from my eyebrows. It makes my eyeglasses slip down my nose. For those of you familiar with West Side Story, sing along with me.....I feel pretty. Oh so pretty....
I have a $5,000 deductible on my health insurance. This is for Individual coverage, mind you. If I had Family coverage, it would be $10,000. When I last saw my endocrinologist we discussed me getting a series of shots and then a blood test that will give me a true reading as to the possibility of the thyroid cancer growing again. This can't be done by only drawing blood and then running tests because my thyroid medication is dosed to keep me at a certain level of whatever that inhibits cancer cell growth. (I'm sure you don't want a science lesson here so I'm keeping it simple.) The shots are very expensive....somewhere to the tune of $2,000. When my doc found out what my deductible was, he offered another suggestion. Since I had the neck dissection one year ago, we could bypass the shots/blood test and just do the neck ultrasound this September. He said I should make the ultrasound appointment in the morning and then an office appointment with him same day in the afternoon. I thought that was a good idea and agreed to it.
Now that it has been a month and a half since I made that decision, I realize it isn't going to work for me. It was these annual shots/testing results that made me want to change docs in the first place. (See earlier posts.)
Second Scraping
It's Spring and I am back to mowing and planting. I love all of it. I feel so much satisfaction after having mowed a row, turning around and seeing the difference in the height of the grass. I could compare it to the immediate results one experiences when ironing clothes, but I hate ironing. Actually, I hate everything about ironing except for the hiss a steam iron makes when setting it back upright. That's kind of cool.
I love all of the different flowers, except for orange marigolds. I look at them and feel pissed off. Weird, right? They are innocent and I am holding back from snapping off their heads. Other than my issues with marigolds, I find the differences in flower's leaf construction, bloom, colors, textures, and smells intriguing. My blood pressure lowers and I just want to sit and stare. I could sit on the forest floor for hours taking in the different sounds the trees, animals, and bugs make. I love the patterns of light made by the sun's rays shining through the canopy overhead. Where the sun breaks through those spots are warm and toasty.
Third Scraping
I don't like sweating. Because of my medication, I sweat more easily and it is gross. I won't even try to pretend this is not gross by calling it perspiration. If I just sweated from my armpits, I would be almost OK with that but my head is the sweatiest part of my body. Sweat runs through my hair down my neck and behind my ears. It interferes with my vision as it falls from my eyebrows. It makes my eyeglasses slip down my nose. For those of you familiar with West Side Story, sing along with me.....I feel pretty. Oh so pretty....
Sunday, May 9, 2010
We Have a Date Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The surgery is scheduled for May 27th at 12:15 pm. We have to be at the hospital two hours prior. I wish it were earlier in the day, but I don't have control over that. I'm sure it is all for the best. The procedure is scheduled for five hours. Just writing that gives me a tremor. I need to find peace in the fact that this surgeon is well practiced in what he does and cares about the outcome his work will have on the rest of my life. I need to find comfort in the fact that I will have family with me to support me and hold me up if I feel weak. I know I am loved and with that I cannot lose.
All That's Left is the Scheduling Friday, March 12, 2010
My doctor called me this afternoon with the results of Tuesday's biopsy. It wasn't any big suprise that the test came back positive for cancer on the lymph node against my windpipe.
I have been transparent in all of my notes so I'm not going to give in to my inclination to protect my feelings now.
I've never been the type to raise my fist to God and ask, "Why me?" It is a waste of energy and unproductive. I am not angry. I don't feel sorry for myself. I think I am disappointed. Disappointed that there is another hurdle I have to navigate after I have navigated so many already. I am frustrated that I have to find that inner strength again when I think it should be ok to have the opportunity to do some gliding for a little while. Even after a hard winter there is a window of time prior to the overbearing heat of summer in the spring when the weather is perfect.
Enough indulging. I will keep you posted as to when the surgery is scheduled. Stiff upper lip, y'all.
I have been transparent in all of my notes so I'm not going to give in to my inclination to protect my feelings now.
I've never been the type to raise my fist to God and ask, "Why me?" It is a waste of energy and unproductive. I am not angry. I don't feel sorry for myself. I think I am disappointed. Disappointed that there is another hurdle I have to navigate after I have navigated so many already. I am frustrated that I have to find that inner strength again when I think it should be ok to have the opportunity to do some gliding for a little while. Even after a hard winter there is a window of time prior to the overbearing heat of summer in the spring when the weather is perfect.
Enough indulging. I will keep you posted as to when the surgery is scheduled. Stiff upper lip, y'all.
This Needle Biopsy (which leads to surgery continued) Tuesday, March 9, 2010
This afternoon was a follow-up fine needle biopsy. This was scheduled as a result of my visit a couple of weeks ago to the doctor that is going to perform the surgery on my neck.
The company at which I work takes up one whole floor at the very top of the office building. So, I get into the elevator, choose the 1st floor, the door closes and just as the elevator starts to descend I realize I left my paperwork on my desk - proof that a mind riddled with anxiety makes mistakes. I ride the elevator back up, walk to my desk, grab the paperwork, and confirm for a co-worker in the hallway that yes, she did just see me leave in the elevator.
As I am walking to the parking garage I realize that I forgot to find the directions I had written down for the first two visits to the downtown medical facility. I know. After having driven it twice I should remember how to get there but it is my crutch. I get in the car and paw around on the floor on the passenger side. Dirty napkins and old shopping lists but no directions. Oh, well. I run the route through my head and figure I should be alright.
The first two times I was taken right on time. This time I had to wait for an extra 25 minutes. I find that I have slouched in the chair and probably look like a very old recalcitrant teenager. I give myself a strong talking to and sit back up, as my mother would say, "Like a lady".
Before the procedure, I was put in a small friendly room so that I could meet with my endocrinologist to discuss the details. I went there thinking that I would have to endure two biopsies again as the discussion with the surgeon was that the lymph node on the right was still questionable and now there is another lymph node that doesn't look right on my windpipe...still on the right side.
My endo pops his head from around the door as his entrance. He is a nice man with a somewhat different sense of humor. We start discussing the procedure and he is only talking about the windpipe. I tell him of my discussion with the surgeon so he takes out his cell and calls him. Come to find out, the two docs had discussed my case after my office visit and now the surgeon agrees that I definitely have bilateral cancer. I will only have to get stuck for the windpipe. Yay for that. Boo that it has been confirmed that I have cancer on both sides of my neck and this means a 6 hour surgery.
Since I have already described what this feels like and how not swallowing is hard when one is being told not to swallow, I won't bore you with the details again. This time someone in the room was patting my thigh as the needles slid in. I almost asked them to stop as any show of sympathy would make me cry. In the end, I concentrated on that instead of not swallowing. I also was wondering why I got this from someone this time and not the last. It gives me a headache thinking about it. Do I look like I'm losing it even when I try to put a brave face on? Maybe the smell of anxiety was palpable. Who knows. I got through it and the outcome is that there are cells that are suspicious so it is being sent out for further testing. This lymph node mirrors the other one that was suspicious in that it is cystic w/cells that are abnormal. The earliest I will hear anything is Friday. Monday for sure.
I am experiencing more pain afterward this time. I think it is because of the different location within my neck from the last time. I am overwhelmed right now but will eventually do better as I move through the steps in dealing with this news.
I did ask Nigel this morning if he would like to go with me to hold my hand during this. He was all for it, but we didn't want to chance him not being allowed in as he is a dog.
The company at which I work takes up one whole floor at the very top of the office building. So, I get into the elevator, choose the 1st floor, the door closes and just as the elevator starts to descend I realize I left my paperwork on my desk - proof that a mind riddled with anxiety makes mistakes. I ride the elevator back up, walk to my desk, grab the paperwork, and confirm for a co-worker in the hallway that yes, she did just see me leave in the elevator.
As I am walking to the parking garage I realize that I forgot to find the directions I had written down for the first two visits to the downtown medical facility. I know. After having driven it twice I should remember how to get there but it is my crutch. I get in the car and paw around on the floor on the passenger side. Dirty napkins and old shopping lists but no directions. Oh, well. I run the route through my head and figure I should be alright.
The first two times I was taken right on time. This time I had to wait for an extra 25 minutes. I find that I have slouched in the chair and probably look like a very old recalcitrant teenager. I give myself a strong talking to and sit back up, as my mother would say, "Like a lady".
Before the procedure, I was put in a small friendly room so that I could meet with my endocrinologist to discuss the details. I went there thinking that I would have to endure two biopsies again as the discussion with the surgeon was that the lymph node on the right was still questionable and now there is another lymph node that doesn't look right on my windpipe...still on the right side.
My endo pops his head from around the door as his entrance. He is a nice man with a somewhat different sense of humor. We start discussing the procedure and he is only talking about the windpipe. I tell him of my discussion with the surgeon so he takes out his cell and calls him. Come to find out, the two docs had discussed my case after my office visit and now the surgeon agrees that I definitely have bilateral cancer. I will only have to get stuck for the windpipe. Yay for that. Boo that it has been confirmed that I have cancer on both sides of my neck and this means a 6 hour surgery.
Since I have already described what this feels like and how not swallowing is hard when one is being told not to swallow, I won't bore you with the details again. This time someone in the room was patting my thigh as the needles slid in. I almost asked them to stop as any show of sympathy would make me cry. In the end, I concentrated on that instead of not swallowing. I also was wondering why I got this from someone this time and not the last. It gives me a headache thinking about it. Do I look like I'm losing it even when I try to put a brave face on? Maybe the smell of anxiety was palpable. Who knows. I got through it and the outcome is that there are cells that are suspicious so it is being sent out for further testing. This lymph node mirrors the other one that was suspicious in that it is cystic w/cells that are abnormal. The earliest I will hear anything is Friday. Monday for sure.
I am experiencing more pain afterward this time. I think it is because of the different location within my neck from the last time. I am overwhelmed right now but will eventually do better as I move through the steps in dealing with this news.
I did ask Nigel this morning if he would like to go with me to hold my hand during this. He was all for it, but we didn't want to chance him not being allowed in as he is a dog.
Which Leads to Surgery Saturday, January 30, 2010
The fine needle biopsy is not something I wish to experience again. It was kind of weird walking into the same room I had just been in one week prior except this time there was not only the ultrasound tech but also the pathologist and my doctor. Once again I lay down on the table with a pillow under my shoulders and my head back. The same picture was up on the ceiling except this time it was lit from behind and I could make out the details of the boats, water, and mountain. Let's not forget the waterfall.
I told the doc that when I went to the dentist my experience had been that it takes longer than normal for the novocaine to work and then I end up getting injected with more than necessary.
After the tech found the spot on the right side of my neck using the ultrasound wand, the novocaine was injected, and then the needle. Oh, boy. I was feeling that but when the needle is in I am not supposed to make any noise, swallow, or move. Yes, I was given another dose of novocaine. The doc went in again to try to get a better sample. He gave it to the pathologist and we waited a second time. Then he went in a third time. I was never really fully numbed up. After the third time, he told me he wouldn't go in on that side again. I wouldn't have let him anyway. I had had enough. The result - inconclusive. The cells were not what they were supposed to look like but further testing was needed.
Doc then moved on to the left side of my neck. Once again the tech found the spot and the doc went to work. Again a second dose of novocaine was needed. At least with this side I didn't feel anything but pressure when he went in the second time. The result - cancer.
So, Monday the results of the sample from the right side of my neck should be back. I will then know if surgery will be on one or both sides.
Five years ago when I had my first surgery, it was a relief as I had finally convinced the doctors that something was wrong and forward progress was being made. This time the cicrumstances are different and I am emotional. My goal is to not have this dominate my thoughts. I am not always successful but at least I am trying.
I told the doc that when I went to the dentist my experience had been that it takes longer than normal for the novocaine to work and then I end up getting injected with more than necessary.
After the tech found the spot on the right side of my neck using the ultrasound wand, the novocaine was injected, and then the needle. Oh, boy. I was feeling that but when the needle is in I am not supposed to make any noise, swallow, or move. Yes, I was given another dose of novocaine. The doc went in again to try to get a better sample. He gave it to the pathologist and we waited a second time. Then he went in a third time. I was never really fully numbed up. After the third time, he told me he wouldn't go in on that side again. I wouldn't have let him anyway. I had had enough. The result - inconclusive. The cells were not what they were supposed to look like but further testing was needed.
Doc then moved on to the left side of my neck. Once again the tech found the spot and the doc went to work. Again a second dose of novocaine was needed. At least with this side I didn't feel anything but pressure when he went in the second time. The result - cancer.
So, Monday the results of the sample from the right side of my neck should be back. I will then know if surgery will be on one or both sides.
Five years ago when I had my first surgery, it was a relief as I had finally convinced the doctors that something was wrong and forward progress was being made. This time the cicrumstances are different and I am emotional. My goal is to not have this dominate my thoughts. I am not always successful but at least I am trying.
Which Leads to More Tests Monday, January 25, 2010
I have the ultrasound results. Bottom line is that there are suspicious lymph nodes on the right side of my neck 1/2 way between my jaw and collarbone deep in my neck. The left side has a bigger tumor and because that side of my neck is where the cancer mostly was is of more of a concern. Doc believes that these are the reason my thyroglobulin levels continue to increase and that these were there but not seen or removed during the initial surgery. So, I am having the needle biopsy for everything. There will be someone from the Pathology dept. during the biopsy so I will be able to get some kind of initial answer immediately. If it is all ok, that's it. If further research is needed, I will know that then, too. If the final report is positive for cancer, surgery is the next step.
At first I was very upset by this news. I am calmer now. I will keep you posted.
At first I was very upset by this news. I am calmer now. I will keep you posted.
Just Another Test Monday, January 18, 2010
Writing for me is cathartic. It helps me sort through my feelings and gain perspective. In that vein, I write about my future.
I recently switched endocrinologists as the one I had since my thyroid surgery 5 years ago seemed to be more interested in creating commercial health plans/foods to sell than doctoring. I decided to get a second opinion and in a roundabout way was directed to a doc that practices out of Johns Hopkins. His specialty is thyroid cancer. After discussing my history, answering his questions, and him reading my 2- inch thick medical file, he bluntly told me that my previous doctor did wrong by me. That was quite a shock for a number of reasons. The first was that he did not ascribe to the "doctor not criticizing another doctor" protocol. The second was that after I was given the first radioactive iodine treatment I never should have been given the other two. The third was that I should be followed for Vitamin D deficiency. The fourth was that after the surgery an ultrasound of my neck should have been performed every 8 to 10 months. I hadn't had one since my surgery.
The blood work proved him correct. I was definitely Vitamin D deficient. That answered the question as to why when I walked down a flight of stairs I felt as if my leg bones would splinter apart.
Tomorrow is the ultrasound.
It took me 3 years to convince my Primary Care doc that there was something wrong. The blood work kept coming back as normal. Through those years I suffered weight gain, hair loss, and extreme fatigue. Also during that time, the cancer grew unchecked moving towards the back of my neck instead towards the front. My surgeon was shocked by what he saw when he opened me up. No one had a clue.
So, my new doc insisted that a Johns Hopkins technician perform the ultrasound. He didn't want to leave it up to anyone else. It will take about an hour. I am nervous not about the test itself but the results.
Something else my previous doctor did was ignore my ever rising test results that indicate any cancer left in my body. Another reason why I left him.
This time tomorrow it will be done. The anticipation alone is making my stomach queasy.
I recently switched endocrinologists as the one I had since my thyroid surgery 5 years ago seemed to be more interested in creating commercial health plans/foods to sell than doctoring. I decided to get a second opinion and in a roundabout way was directed to a doc that practices out of Johns Hopkins. His specialty is thyroid cancer. After discussing my history, answering his questions, and him reading my 2- inch thick medical file, he bluntly told me that my previous doctor did wrong by me. That was quite a shock for a number of reasons. The first was that he did not ascribe to the "doctor not criticizing another doctor" protocol. The second was that after I was given the first radioactive iodine treatment I never should have been given the other two. The third was that I should be followed for Vitamin D deficiency. The fourth was that after the surgery an ultrasound of my neck should have been performed every 8 to 10 months. I hadn't had one since my surgery.
The blood work proved him correct. I was definitely Vitamin D deficient. That answered the question as to why when I walked down a flight of stairs I felt as if my leg bones would splinter apart.
Tomorrow is the ultrasound.
It took me 3 years to convince my Primary Care doc that there was something wrong. The blood work kept coming back as normal. Through those years I suffered weight gain, hair loss, and extreme fatigue. Also during that time, the cancer grew unchecked moving towards the back of my neck instead towards the front. My surgeon was shocked by what he saw when he opened me up. No one had a clue.
So, my new doc insisted that a Johns Hopkins technician perform the ultrasound. He didn't want to leave it up to anyone else. It will take about an hour. I am nervous not about the test itself but the results.
Something else my previous doctor did was ignore my ever rising test results that indicate any cancer left in my body. Another reason why I left him.
This time tomorrow it will be done. The anticipation alone is making my stomach queasy.
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