For the first couple of days after the surgery, I wouldn't say I was in pain, but I was in some serious discomfort. Swallowing was tough and sleeping at night was not happening. However, despite all my complaining, I have to say I felt blessed. Very blessed. The surgery had been totally successful and there hadn't been any hitches with the procedure. I was alive and breathing and every day I felt better. I started taking the thyroid hormone my surgeon had given me. It was important to take it every morning at the same time on an empty stomach and I couldn't have any food for an hour afterwards. Even though it would take weeks before this little pill would register in my blood system, it was important to remember to take it all the time.
My surgeon called one week later to confirm my biggest fear: I had cancer along with thyroiditis and Hashimoto's disease. My thyroid had been really sick. In her optomistic style, however, she ended our conversation upbeat. "So, your prognosis is wonderful," she emphasized. "Only one little nodule had papillary cancer which was 1.5 cm and there was no spread to any of the 14 lymph nodes we removed." She told me she would see me at our post-operative appointment in three weeks.
I have to say, for whatever reason, I didn't fall apart. I was okay. I guess one thing that held me together was that I HAD cancer...I didn't have it any more. When this all started I had prayed so hard that my fine needle aspiration would come back normal. But, it didn't. And then, when those slides were categorized as suspicious, I prayed so hard that it wouldn't be cancer. But, it was. So, I decided to just pray that God's would help me to use my experiences in some way and that I would rely on Him. And that's what I'm going to try to continue to do with my next big worry....radioactive iodine.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
"You're Not Sick"
My room had the best view in the whole hospital I was told. I was on a floor which was a women's only oncology unit which was amazing. My nurses took really great care of me and they all were very kind and attentive. My first nurse's name was Angelina and I know that her name had the word "Angel" in it for a reason. She was awesome. I continued to be very nauseated and had a hard time keeping my calcium pills down. After a thyroidectomy, you have to take calcium because your parathyroid glands are out of whack and since those are the glands that help process calcium, you have to make sure you take a lot of it.
Kirk, my sweet husband, stayed with me that night. I could not have done it without him. He helped me with everything and was such a good caregiver. Besides throwing up my calcium pills, the other problem I had was that I had to have my blood drawn every couple of hours to determine my calcium levels. For whatever reason, the nurses had a terrible time getting into my veins. When I left the hospital the tops of my hands were seriously black and blue. All the fluid that had gone into my arm was slowly decreasing, which was good to see. That night was rough. I felt extremely tired, but didn't feel like I slept at all. But it was okay - I was used to having a newborn!
When the sun started coming over the trees, I was relieved. That meant I was going home soon! An anesthesiologist stopped by to check on me as well as the medical student that had observed my surgery. I couldn't believe it, but she took my stitches out right then and there, not even 24 hours after my surgery. There were only two by the way! Amazing. I had more blood taken and finally my surgeon stopped by to check on me. I have to say, my surgeon is one of the most upbeat people I have ever met. "So, your surgery was great," she started off, "And you get to go home today!" I was so relieved to hear that. After going over some questions with her, I found out that my thyroid was really enlarged and she felt it was definitely the right decision to take the whole thing out. According to her, my thyroid was messy. It was ugly. It looked like a bomb had gone off in there and the thyroid was literally destroying itself - I had thyroiditis and a whole slew of enlarged nodules. She had taken out a bunch of lymph nodes, some of which were tested right then and there, but none contained cancer. "So," she ended, "Your surgery went well. You're not sick. Get up. Get dressed. You're going home soon and I will call you within the week about the pathology report." An intern put steri-strips over my incision and took out the tube that was draining from my neck. When my blood results came back saying that I had sufficient calcium I was released.
Praise God! I couldn't wait to get home and see my precious babies...
Kirk, my sweet husband, stayed with me that night. I could not have done it without him. He helped me with everything and was such a good caregiver. Besides throwing up my calcium pills, the other problem I had was that I had to have my blood drawn every couple of hours to determine my calcium levels. For whatever reason, the nurses had a terrible time getting into my veins. When I left the hospital the tops of my hands were seriously black and blue. All the fluid that had gone into my arm was slowly decreasing, which was good to see. That night was rough. I felt extremely tired, but didn't feel like I slept at all. But it was okay - I was used to having a newborn!
When the sun started coming over the trees, I was relieved. That meant I was going home soon! An anesthesiologist stopped by to check on me as well as the medical student that had observed my surgery. I couldn't believe it, but she took my stitches out right then and there, not even 24 hours after my surgery. There were only two by the way! Amazing. I had more blood taken and finally my surgeon stopped by to check on me. I have to say, my surgeon is one of the most upbeat people I have ever met. "So, your surgery was great," she started off, "And you get to go home today!" I was so relieved to hear that. After going over some questions with her, I found out that my thyroid was really enlarged and she felt it was definitely the right decision to take the whole thing out. According to her, my thyroid was messy. It was ugly. It looked like a bomb had gone off in there and the thyroid was literally destroying itself - I had thyroiditis and a whole slew of enlarged nodules. She had taken out a bunch of lymph nodes, some of which were tested right then and there, but none contained cancer. "So," she ended, "Your surgery went well. You're not sick. Get up. Get dressed. You're going home soon and I will call you within the week about the pathology report." An intern put steri-strips over my incision and took out the tube that was draining from my neck. When my blood results came back saying that I had sufficient calcium I was released.
Praise God! I couldn't wait to get home and see my precious babies...
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Surgery: Not for Weenies
As Kirk and I were driving to the hospital, I felt calm. My parents were following us as we were driving and the babies were at home being watched by Kirk's parents. Everything was in place and I just wanted to surgery to be over with ASAP. Yale had called about thirty minutes before we were supposed to leave, asking if I could come in early. My surgeon had finished her other surgery early and was ready for me. So, we left the as soon as we could, but arrived at the hospital only a few minutes earlier than planned. I was admitted quickly and taken to my own little space where a nurse took some information from me, I was changed into huge gown with a cap to cover my hair and socks to keep my feet warm. I had to pump since I was breastfeeding my daughter, and after that I made a quick trip to the bathroom. When I got back they were ready to wheel me back to surgery.
I cried when I had to say goodbye to my parents and Kirk. I kept thinking, gosh, what if something goes wrong? This will be the last time that I see them! I think it's normal to think those thoughts, but those feelings were so intense. Prayer seemed to calm my heart. I was brought to another little holding area where you go just before surgery. There was a man next to me who had just been in a massive car accident. It was hard to feel calm with the twenty doctors and nurses that surrounded him, so I asked if someone could pull the curtain that separated my space from his. I think about that time I was blessed with the presence of a medical student who had come to observe my surgery. She was so sweet and through tears, I tried to tell her my story. She was from Ghana and she told me all about her family and the different doctors she had observed so far and the classes she was taking. It was an excellent distraction from the crisis that happening a few feet away. The anesthesiologist stopped by to introduce herself which I appreciated and within a few minutes I was rolled back to the operating room.
I remember the temperature being frigid. I could hear the clinking of surgical instruments being prepped closeby. The lights were really bright. They had a hard time putting an IV in my hand since my veins were so little. I heard them saying that the drip wasn't working due to a defective catheter - not what I wanted to hear going into surgery. The anesthesiologist put a mask over my nose and mouth and told me to breathe normally. However, I felt like I couldn't breathe at all. I told her three seperate times that I felt like I was getting zero oxygen. She upped it a little, but I still felt like I couldn't breathe. Pretty soon she told me that they were going to start giving me some sort of gas, but to breathe normally. The gas was foul-smelling and seemed to fill my lungs quickly. I could feel my body start to relax, first my legs, then my arms, and I suddenly lost consciousness. Up until that point, I continued to pray.
When I woke up, I was being wheeled into a postoperative area to be observed by a nurse. I remember two things: one, my arm was hurting A LOT and two, I felt very sick. I pointed to my arm and tried to tell whoever would listen that it hurt BAD and then proceeded to throw up all over myself. Surgery was definitely not for weenies. It turned out that the IV in my arm had not been put directly into a vein, so all that fluid had seeped into my arm tissue, causing it to swell....and hurt. My arm was very large and swollen and had been wrapped in a warm towel to try to decrease the swelling. My poor nurse was trying to clean me up since I had thrown up all in my hair and on my gown. After being in the postoperative area for an hour or so, I was able to see Kirk and my parents and then was transferred to my hospital room.
More about my recovery in the next post...
I cried when I had to say goodbye to my parents and Kirk. I kept thinking, gosh, what if something goes wrong? This will be the last time that I see them! I think it's normal to think those thoughts, but those feelings were so intense. Prayer seemed to calm my heart. I was brought to another little holding area where you go just before surgery. There was a man next to me who had just been in a massive car accident. It was hard to feel calm with the twenty doctors and nurses that surrounded him, so I asked if someone could pull the curtain that separated my space from his. I think about that time I was blessed with the presence of a medical student who had come to observe my surgery. She was so sweet and through tears, I tried to tell her my story. She was from Ghana and she told me all about her family and the different doctors she had observed so far and the classes she was taking. It was an excellent distraction from the crisis that happening a few feet away. The anesthesiologist stopped by to introduce herself which I appreciated and within a few minutes I was rolled back to the operating room.
I remember the temperature being frigid. I could hear the clinking of surgical instruments being prepped closeby. The lights were really bright. They had a hard time putting an IV in my hand since my veins were so little. I heard them saying that the drip wasn't working due to a defective catheter - not what I wanted to hear going into surgery. The anesthesiologist put a mask over my nose and mouth and told me to breathe normally. However, I felt like I couldn't breathe at all. I told her three seperate times that I felt like I was getting zero oxygen. She upped it a little, but I still felt like I couldn't breathe. Pretty soon she told me that they were going to start giving me some sort of gas, but to breathe normally. The gas was foul-smelling and seemed to fill my lungs quickly. I could feel my body start to relax, first my legs, then my arms, and I suddenly lost consciousness. Up until that point, I continued to pray.
When I woke up, I was being wheeled into a postoperative area to be observed by a nurse. I remember two things: one, my arm was hurting A LOT and two, I felt very sick. I pointed to my arm and tried to tell whoever would listen that it hurt BAD and then proceeded to throw up all over myself. Surgery was definitely not for weenies. It turned out that the IV in my arm had not been put directly into a vein, so all that fluid had seeped into my arm tissue, causing it to swell....and hurt. My arm was very large and swollen and had been wrapped in a warm towel to try to decrease the swelling. My poor nurse was trying to clean me up since I had thrown up all in my hair and on my gown. After being in the postoperative area for an hour or so, I was able to see Kirk and my parents and then was transferred to my hospital room.
More about my recovery in the next post...
A Faith-Building Preoperative Appointment
My husband, Kirk, and I had to go to New Have to Yale University since my surgeon was located there. My internist had told me that this surgeon was amazing. "She's the best of the best," she bragged.
When my surgeon stepped into the room, she exuded confidence. She whipped out a little booklet and went over basic thyroid information with me and pointed out that I had a multinodular goiter (lump). The Yale pathology team had also read my slides, but instead of being "suspicous" they read the slides as being "indeterminant." My surgeon informed me that this meant they didn't know what those nodules were. They didn't fall into the category of being cancer, but they didn't fall into the normal cell category either. I told her that I had been having some pain associated with my thyroid and that there was pressure against my trachea as well. She gave me an examination where she felt my neck and watched me swallow some water. After all was said and done, she told me that she basically would recommend a complete thyroidectomy. She proceeded to tell me all about the risks of the surgery. However, in her hands, she pointed out, those risks were slim to none. It sounded like the only lifestyle change I would have to make after the surgery was that I'd have to take thyroid hormone for the rest of my life. I felt like the appointment was really informative and that there was a plan in place. Kirk and I returned home optomistic.
Over the next few days I went from dismissing the initial set surgery date to accepting the fact that I would need a total thyroidectomy. For the remaining weeks before my surgery, I still tried to figure out exactly how I could get out of it. Believe me, I was not excited, especially since I had not found a way to escape this darn surgery. I had to leave my house, my two beautiful babies and drive an hour away to a hospital where a doctor would literally slice my throat.
God was right there with me though. My Aunt Cinty had given me a little booklet she had made when she had breast cancer. It had all different verses in it and I clung to that little booklet. I kept it by my bedside, read it when I was nursing Claire, looked at in the morning when I first woke up...I even found a favorite:
Luke 22:31-32
"Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned again, strengthen your brothers."
God knew, and continues to know, exactly what he's doing. My mom kept reminding me that this experience was all about faith-building. God was making me depend on Him - not on myself, not on Kirk or mom or even on my doctors - I had to depend on Him. I definitely felt like I was being "sifted" - my whole life seemed to be falling apart. But, God's promises were steadfast and I prayed that my hope would continue to be in Him. There were so many fears that I had heading into the surgery, sometime they'd make me even physically sick. But, fear is a lack of faith, I kept reminding myself, and I would stop and pray and meditate on God's word.
The surgery date was rapidly approaching and before I knew it, Kirk and I were headed back to Yale.
When my surgeon stepped into the room, she exuded confidence. She whipped out a little booklet and went over basic thyroid information with me and pointed out that I had a multinodular goiter (lump). The Yale pathology team had also read my slides, but instead of being "suspicous" they read the slides as being "indeterminant." My surgeon informed me that this meant they didn't know what those nodules were. They didn't fall into the category of being cancer, but they didn't fall into the normal cell category either. I told her that I had been having some pain associated with my thyroid and that there was pressure against my trachea as well. She gave me an examination where she felt my neck and watched me swallow some water. After all was said and done, she told me that she basically would recommend a complete thyroidectomy. She proceeded to tell me all about the risks of the surgery. However, in her hands, she pointed out, those risks were slim to none. It sounded like the only lifestyle change I would have to make after the surgery was that I'd have to take thyroid hormone for the rest of my life. I felt like the appointment was really informative and that there was a plan in place. Kirk and I returned home optomistic.
Over the next few days I went from dismissing the initial set surgery date to accepting the fact that I would need a total thyroidectomy. For the remaining weeks before my surgery, I still tried to figure out exactly how I could get out of it. Believe me, I was not excited, especially since I had not found a way to escape this darn surgery. I had to leave my house, my two beautiful babies and drive an hour away to a hospital where a doctor would literally slice my throat.
God was right there with me though. My Aunt Cinty had given me a little booklet she had made when she had breast cancer. It had all different verses in it and I clung to that little booklet. I kept it by my bedside, read it when I was nursing Claire, looked at in the morning when I first woke up...I even found a favorite:
Luke 22:31-32
"Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned again, strengthen your brothers."
God knew, and continues to know, exactly what he's doing. My mom kept reminding me that this experience was all about faith-building. God was making me depend on Him - not on myself, not on Kirk or mom or even on my doctors - I had to depend on Him. I definitely felt like I was being "sifted" - my whole life seemed to be falling apart. But, God's promises were steadfast and I prayed that my hope would continue to be in Him. There were so many fears that I had heading into the surgery, sometime they'd make me even physically sick. But, fear is a lack of faith, I kept reminding myself, and I would stop and pray and meditate on God's word.
The surgery date was rapidly approaching and before I knew it, Kirk and I were headed back to Yale.
Friday, August 14, 2009
A Lump In the Road
So, as I said, this all started with a little lump, which turned only led to big issues. In early June, as I was recovering from having my second child, I noticed a small lump on my neck. A mosquito had actually bitten me right on top of the bump and as I was scratching it, I thought it was odd that I didn't notice it before. I asked my mom and my husband if they had a lump in that location, and without any "yesses" dished out, I figured I had better head over to see my internist.
I remember that day so clearly. It was a Saturday and I made an appointment, feeling silly that it was actual for this little lump I had noticed. "So, I have this lump on neck..." I started out and suddenly, I could tell from the look on her face, she was worried. She quickly (within one hour) sent me on my way to have a neck ultrasound. "You need to go," she said quickly, "right now." I found out later that she was worried that this lump was an enlarged lymph node (which it wasn't) so she wanted it checked out ASAP. that revealed three large nodules, each about 2.0-2.5 centimeters in diameter. The radiologist recommended that I have a fine needle aspiration (FNA) of these nodules, which basically meant that they wanted to take some cells from each of the nodules using a really long, skinny needle. Whoever said that an FNA doesn't hurt wasn't telling the truth. It did hurt!
About four days later, I got a call from my internist...from her home number. I thought it was weird she was calling me from her house since she was on vacation that week, but I quickly learned why. "Your pathology report came back," she began, "and out of the three nodules biopsied one of the nodules was benign, one was insufficient, and one was suspicious." My mind began racing. Suspicious definitely did not sound good. I had a hard time processing exactly what she was saying. I could hear her voice on the phone, but it seemed like none of what she was saying was sinking in. "A suspicious nodule means that the chances that it's cancer is nine out of ten." I had to hand the phone over to my mom to give myself a chance to get a grip. My internist gave us the number of a surgeon to call, went over some more information with my mom and the conversation was pretty much over after that. Surely, the pathology reports are wrong, I reasoned right away. Either they have me confused with someone else OR the pathologists just didn't read the slides correctly. However, that night, the potential reality struck and I was pretty much a slobbery, teary mess. I decided, though, that I would use the next few days to focus on the tasks at hand: set up doctors appointments with the surgeon and endocrinologists recommended by my internist. Also, I wanted to copies of the pathology reports so that I could find out exactly what they said. A family friend of ours was an endocrinologist in Dallas, so we also contacted him to find out as much as we could from his perspective. The pathology report read that I had a "complex, cystic nodule suspicious of papillary cancer."
I called the next day to set up an appointment with my surgeon. I was blown away that they not only set up a preoperative appointment, but also a surgery date. I was thinking, okay, we can schedule that, but I won't need it. :) A few weeks later I met with my wonderful surgeon. She was like superwoman, minus the cape. More about my preoperative appointment next post...
I remember that day so clearly. It was a Saturday and I made an appointment, feeling silly that it was actual for this little lump I had noticed. "So, I have this lump on neck..." I started out and suddenly, I could tell from the look on her face, she was worried. She quickly (within one hour) sent me on my way to have a neck ultrasound. "You need to go," she said quickly, "right now." I found out later that she was worried that this lump was an enlarged lymph node (which it wasn't) so she wanted it checked out ASAP. that revealed three large nodules, each about 2.0-2.5 centimeters in diameter. The radiologist recommended that I have a fine needle aspiration (FNA) of these nodules, which basically meant that they wanted to take some cells from each of the nodules using a really long, skinny needle. Whoever said that an FNA doesn't hurt wasn't telling the truth. It did hurt!
About four days later, I got a call from my internist...from her home number. I thought it was weird she was calling me from her house since she was on vacation that week, but I quickly learned why. "Your pathology report came back," she began, "and out of the three nodules biopsied one of the nodules was benign, one was insufficient, and one was suspicious." My mind began racing. Suspicious definitely did not sound good. I had a hard time processing exactly what she was saying. I could hear her voice on the phone, but it seemed like none of what she was saying was sinking in. "A suspicious nodule means that the chances that it's cancer is nine out of ten." I had to hand the phone over to my mom to give myself a chance to get a grip. My internist gave us the number of a surgeon to call, went over some more information with my mom and the conversation was pretty much over after that. Surely, the pathology reports are wrong, I reasoned right away. Either they have me confused with someone else OR the pathologists just didn't read the slides correctly. However, that night, the potential reality struck and I was pretty much a slobbery, teary mess. I decided, though, that I would use the next few days to focus on the tasks at hand: set up doctors appointments with the surgeon and endocrinologists recommended by my internist. Also, I wanted to copies of the pathology reports so that I could find out exactly what they said. A family friend of ours was an endocrinologist in Dallas, so we also contacted him to find out as much as we could from his perspective. The pathology report read that I had a "complex, cystic nodule suspicious of papillary cancer."
I called the next day to set up an appointment with my surgeon. I was blown away that they not only set up a preoperative appointment, but also a surgery date. I was thinking, okay, we can schedule that, but I won't need it. :) A few weeks later I met with my wonderful surgeon. She was like superwoman, minus the cape. More about my preoperative appointment next post...
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Preface
I want to make sure that I tell my whole story, which is still in the early stages and continues to unfold. This all seems to have started years ago, but when I look back on my calendar, it's really only been about two months. The whole idea of this blog is to make sure that I document my experience of having thyroid cancer. Why? The reason probably has to do just as much with educating others as it does with trying to process everything that's happened recently.
So I guess the place to start is exactly with the first question that went through my mind. What is a thyroid? The way I understand it, the thyroid is a little gland at the front of your neck. Although it's small, it has lots of big jobs. It's in charge of metabolism, heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature to name a few. According to the Mayo Clinic, 37,000 cases of thyroid cancer are diagnosed every year and that number is steadily increasing, probably due to better diagnoses. Most of the time, people detect a lump on their neck (like I did) and that gets the ball rolling. There are several types of thyroid cancer such as papillary (that's mine), follicular, medullary and anaplastic. The cause of thyroid cancer really isn't known, but it is a familial disease, so genes have a lot to do with it.
The last few weeks have definitely been an emotional rollercoaster. The joy of having our second child, followed by the heartbreak of a cancer diagnosis and all the ups and downs in between seem like a life’s worth of experiences all on their own. But, this was in God’s plan for our family. In fact, as my mom always tells me, He has let every experience pass through His hands before it even comes to us – He knows and is Lord of ALL! I’ve always treasured the first part of Jeremiah 29:11-13, “For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.” But just recently, it’s the second part of that set of verses that has really hit home: “Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.” God will always find a way to bring us closer to Him, no matter where we are in life.
So I guess the place to start is exactly with the first question that went through my mind. What is a thyroid? The way I understand it, the thyroid is a little gland at the front of your neck. Although it's small, it has lots of big jobs. It's in charge of metabolism, heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature to name a few. According to the Mayo Clinic, 37,000 cases of thyroid cancer are diagnosed every year and that number is steadily increasing, probably due to better diagnoses. Most of the time, people detect a lump on their neck (like I did) and that gets the ball rolling. There are several types of thyroid cancer such as papillary (that's mine), follicular, medullary and anaplastic. The cause of thyroid cancer really isn't known, but it is a familial disease, so genes have a lot to do with it.
The last few weeks have definitely been an emotional rollercoaster. The joy of having our second child, followed by the heartbreak of a cancer diagnosis and all the ups and downs in between seem like a life’s worth of experiences all on their own. But, this was in God’s plan for our family. In fact, as my mom always tells me, He has let every experience pass through His hands before it even comes to us – He knows and is Lord of ALL! I’ve always treasured the first part of Jeremiah 29:11-13, “For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.” But just recently, it’s the second part of that set of verses that has really hit home: “Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.” God will always find a way to bring us closer to Him, no matter where we are in life.
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