It's been a year since I wrote the following story. Reading back on it now, it's funny to see that I was still waiting to hear if I got into nursing school at the time that I wrote it. Now, I'm in my third semester of nursing school and only about 9 months from graduating (eek!). Since this blog is all about my life and advice that I would give others, I thought I would post my cancer story here since it was such a big part of my life and the lessons I learned through the journey are worth sharing.
September
1st marks the beginning of Thyroid Cancer Awareness Month. A year ago, I didn’t know how important this
month would become to me. However, on
March 14th, 2012, I was diagnosed with papillary carcinoma, a type of thyroid
cancer and my whole life changed. I’ve
never really publicly talked about how I was diagnosed or how I was feeling or
even how I am feeling now. But, since
this month is all about bringing awareness to this disease, I thought I’d share
my story, as open as I can be. I don’t
know how many will actually read this or even read all of it, but I’m putting
it all out there.
It all started the first week of January
2012. I had just finished some filing at
my dad’s office and was heading back to my mom’s for dinner. All of a sudden, I got the strangest feeling
in my throat while I was driving. You
know that feeling in your throat when you are about to cry? That’s what it felt like. But it wouldn’t go away. When I got home, I told my mom about it and
she thought I had mucus or something stuck down my throat. She told me not to worry about it and that it
would go away. However, several days past,
and the feeling was still there. The day
before I was supposed to return to College Station for the spring semester, I
told my dad about it. He knew I was
worried, so he instructed me to find an ear, nose, and throat doctor in College
Station and make appointment. So, during
the first week of classes, I went to see an ENT doctor hoping he would tell me
what was wrong. As soon as I told him
what I was experiencing, he felt around on my neck and immediately told me that
the left lobe of my thyroid was enlarged.
He started telling me that I had to make an ultrasound appointment, and
then they would have to do a biopsy depending on what the ultrasound
showed. I was terrified. When I heard the word biopsy, I was
immediately thinking cancer. So, I made my ultrasound appointment and they sent
me on my way. The next few hours were torture. Both of my parents were at work, so there was
no way to get a hold of them. And to
make things worse, I had to go sit in on a two hour session for a writing class
that introduced us to the course. I
couldn’t stop thinking about what the doctor told me. I had millions of thoughts running through my
head. Why is my thyroid enlarged? Am I
sick? Do I have cancer? I can’t have cancer! I’m only 20!
When I got out of my class, I finally got a hold of my mom. I can’t recall the exact conversation now,
but I remember her telling me not to worry until we saw what the ultrasound
showed. The next few days dragged on
until the day my ultrasound arrived.
When the technician took me into the room, I asked her if I was going to
be able to get the results that day.
Unfortunately, she said I would have to wait until I went back to my
doctor. I guess she saw the stress on my
face and offered to see if the radiologist would come talk to me after he
looked at the pictures. The ultrasound
went off without a hitch and afterwards, the technician went to give the
pictures to the radiologist. After about
twenty minutes, he came in and told me that I had a large cyst on the left lobe
of my thyroid and a few solid nodules on the right lobe. The cyst was actually pressing against my
esophagus which was why I was having that weird feeling in my throat. He told me that cysts can usually be
aspirated or drained of their fluid. As
for the nodules on my right lobe, he said that I shouldn’t worry about them at
the moment since they were small.
(Little did he know…) So, I felt
somewhat relieved after my ultrasound since I knew more of what was going on in
my body. The following week, I returned
to the ENT doctor to discuss my results.
We both agreed that an aspiration of the cyst would be best at the
moment. He also said he would try to
take a sample of the nodules on the right just to make sure they weren’t a
problem. Now, getting a cyst aspirated
is an interesting experience, especially if the cyst is in your neck. I won’t go into much detail, but it was very
uncomfortable! The doctor ended up
draining two vials of what looked like blood.
However, he was unable to get a good angle on the needle to take samples
of the nodules on my right side. He told
me to come back the following week to get the results of what was drained from
my cyst and to see if another doctor could get a sample of the nodules. (By this time, I felt like test subject) However, a few days later, I started to get
that weird feeling in my throat again.
All I could think of was, “Crap.”
When I went back to the doctor, he looked at my neck again with the
ultrasound and he confirmed that my cyst had refilled. And my results showed that it was indeed
blood that was drained. He brought in
another doctor to look at my neck to see what he thought I should do. They both agreed that surgery was my only
option. Since the cyst refilled, there
was no other way to treat it except to remove that portion of my thyroid. And then he began to explain all the risks
that could occur during a thyroidectomy.
He suggested that I only get the left lobe removed, and to also have a
biopsy done of my right lobe since it was going to be exposed anyways. However, he assured me that the chance it was
cancer was low (Ha!). When I left, my
head was spinning. Surgery?! All I could think of was that I didn’t have
time for a surgery! I have classes,
exams, labs. I was a wreck. When I told my parents what the doctor said,
they both wanted me to get a second opinion.
So, the following week, I drove to Houston to see an endocrinologist,
Dr. Brown (who happens to be the same doctor I see now). He viewed my ultrasound photos, felt around
on my neck, and pretty much came to the same conclusion that my ENT doctor
did. Surgery was my only option. Thankfully, my dad and uncle know a
cardiothoracic surgeon, Dr. McKowen, that they have worked with for several
years and he agreed to perform my surgery.
Dr. McKowen wanted to leave me with at least half a thyroid, so he agreed
with my ENT doctor’s plan to only remove my left lobe. He would only remove the right lobe if the
pathology results of the left lobe came back problematic. So, we scheduled my surgery the Monday of my
spring break because I was determined not to miss any classes.
The morning of my surgery came, and I was a
little nervous. I completely trusted my
surgeon, but it was just the thought of having a surgery done was making me
scared. However, the CRNA that was
working my case came in shortly before my surgery and gave me drug to relax me,
which he called a “margarita”. I felt
slightly more relaxed after that.
Finally, my surgeon was there and ready to go and I said bye to my
parents and my uncle as they wheeled me into the OR. This was where I started to feel nervous
again. In fact, when they attached my
heart monitors and blood pressure cuff to me, I could hear how fast my heart
was beating. The CRNA even asked me if I
was nervous and, of course, I told him yes.
He assured me everything was going to be fine, told me to think of
something peaceful (I remember I thought of a beach), and I was out. A few hours later, I woke up in the ICU (I
had to stay here overnight, so my levels, like calcium, could be monitored). Besides feeling slightly nauseous, I felt
fine for just having surgery. However, I
HATED being in the ICU. Every time I had
to use the bathroom, someone had to help me unhook all my wires. And let me tell you, I had to pee a lot
because I had all these fluid running through my IV. I felt awful whenever I had to push the
little button for someone to come help me.
Anyways, back to the actual story.
When my mom came in a little later, she told me they only took the left
lobe out because the pathology results didn’t show cancer or any other
problem. I was so relieved. No cancer!
I made it through the night fine and was moved out of the ICU the next
morning. I was actually thinking that I
was going to be able to go home that afternoon, but the nurses hadn’t gotten
any discharge papers for me. I thought
that was strange since my levels were good, I was able to somewhat eat solid
foods, and I felt good. I should have
known something was wrong when my surgeon’s PA came and asked my mom to talk
outside the room. She came back a little
later and I noticed it looked like she had been crying. I didn’t think it was anything else except
stress from me being in the hospital.
So, Tuesday night came and there was no word on if I was going to be
discharged, so I settled in for the night (My dad actually stayed that night
and I still have no idea he slept in that chair that was in the room). Wednesday, March 14th started out being a
great day. I was allowed to shower that
morning (I couldn’t wash my hair though) and my nurse gave me fresh sheets. I was feeling much better. Later in the afternoon, when both my parents
were there, my surgeon came for a visit and spoke the words that would change
my life forever. He said that after they
removed my left lobe, they sent it to pathology to get a good look at it. While they were waiting for the results, he
noticed a lymph node in my neck that looked slightly irregular. He went ahead and decided to remove that as
well and had just fully removed it when they got the results from pathology
that the left lobe did not show any problems.
So, he went ahead and closed me up.
However, he had pathology look at the lymph node that he removed. He also had another doctor look at it. They all confirmed that what was found on the
lymph node was papillary carcinoma.
Therefore, he would have to go back in and remove the right lobe of my
thyroid the following morning. I
distinctly remember him telling me that I would live a long life and be able to
have children like any normal person.
After he left the room, I was still slightly confused. I looked at my parents and asked, “I have
cancer?” and when they said yes, I felt like my world crashed. I let myself cry for a few minutes with them
and tried to pull myself together. Just
hearing the word ‘cancer’ and actually associating it with me for the first
time was scary. I wanted to stay strong
for myself, but I especially wanted to stay strong for my mom because I knew
how worried she was about me taking the news.
Honestly, after it set in, I was more worried about having to go through
another surgery. I just had one, for
goodness sakes! I tried not to cry for
the rest of the day, except I had two weak moments when I talked to my cousin,
Callie, on the phone, and when I was alone with my sister-in-law, Chelsea. My brother, Troy, agreed to stay the night
with me and slept in the same awful chair my dad had the night before. I don’t know how I managed to sleep that
night, but I remember I woke up in the middle of the night. As I laid there in the dark, I prayed to God
for the strength to get through the next day and for every day that was to
come. Early the next morning, after a
tearful goodbye (on my part) with my brother, they wheeled me down to pre-OP. I was a ball of nerves and that little
“margarita” didn’t help much this time.
About ten minutes before they came to wheel me out, my dad pulled out
his phone because he said he had something to show me. My little 2 year old half brother and 5 year
old half sister had made me a video telling me they loved me and for me to get
better sooner. Just seeing their little
faces was enough to break me down and I was still crying when they wheeled me
to the OR. In fact, I think I still had
tears in my eyes when they put me to sleep.
I woke up in the ICU for the second time in four days a few hours
later. I asked my nurse, whose name was
Steve, if he knew how my surgery went.
He assured me that it went fine and that they removed the rest of my
thyroid. I spent the next two days in
the ICU and was finally released from the hospital after five and a half days.
What a way to spend spring break, huh?
Since I ended up having two surgeries over
spring break instead of one, my doctors would not let me return to school right
away. I was extremely upset because I
had exams, assignments, and a project to work on. Fortunately, my professors (except one)
understood and wished me luck in recovering until I came back. So, I spent a few days resting and tried not
to be stressed about school. I can’t really explain what I was thinking or what
mindset I was in during this time because I don’t think I even know. I mean, I was just diagnosed with
cancer! I think I tried to push that
thought out of my mind and try to focus on getting well enough to return to
College Station. Thankfully, one week
after my second surgery, my endocrinologist and my surgeon gave me the okay to
drive back to College Station and return to classes. I was ecstatic!! I could finally return to my normal routine,
focus on school, and try to forget what had happened. The next day, I attended my Friday classes
and was warmly welcomed back to work (I work at TCALL, Texas Center for Adult
Literacy and Learning, as a student worker).
I was, however, self-conscious about my scar because I still had to wear
a bandage over it, but I tried not to let it bother me. However, I did have a lot of things to keep
me busy. In the next few weeks, I got
confirmed at St. Mary’s Catholic Church, got my Aggie Ring (Whoop!), and had
several exams to study for. Before I knew
it, May had arrived, finals were over, and I was returning home for a few weeks
before summer classes started. During
this time, I was supposed to undergo my radiation therapy. In order to do this, my hormone levels had to
be within a certain range, so I was supposed to stop taking my thyroid medicine
I have to take every day. After one week
without it, I felt okay. However, the
second week without my medicine was horrible.
I was becoming extremely hypothyroid (which is what my doctor wanted)
and it was awful. I was moody, would cry
at the drop of a hat, my metabolism completely stopped and I gained probably
10-15 pounds in that two week period. I
spent most of my time on the couch with my dog because I didn’t have energy to
do anything. I just felt depressed all
the time. When we went to my doctor to
get the results of my blood test, my hormone levels were in the 170s, while the
normal level is around 25. So, I was definitely
ready to undergo the treatment. (I’m
pretty sure I even mentioned to my doctor I hoped the radiation would give me
super powers so I could be a super hero.
At least I could still crack a joke!)
A few days later, I returned to the same hospital where I had my
surgeries except I went to the radiology department this time. When they took me to the back, the doctor
came in to go over the rules I had to follow during the treatment. The most important rule was that I had to be
‘quarantined’. I wasn’t allowed to be
within five feet of people or animals for a 4-5 day period. The treatment basically consisted of me
swallowing a pill that was made up of radioactive iodine. If there were any thyroid cells left in my
body, they would soak up the iodine and would be visible in the scans I would
later undergo. Since the iodine was
radioactive, it would kill the thyroid cells when they absorbed the
iodine. I remember when the doctor gave
me the pill, he had on massive gloves and used tongs to take the it out of the
tube it was in. All I was thinking was,
“What is this thing going to do to my body if you can’t even touch it?!” I also had to follow a low-iodine diet while
going through the treatment. So, for the
5 day period, I basically ate fruit and bland chicken. Very exciting. I spent the next few days in my room, by
myself, because my mom couldn’t be near me.
Luckily, my treatment was timed perfectly because the day after the 5
day period ended, I started summer classes.
I still felt bad because I had only restarted taking my medicine a few
days before, but I was just happy to be done with the radiation itself! Ten days after I swallowed the iodine pill, I
had to drive back to Houston to have a scan done to see where the iodine was
absorbed. For an hour, I had to lie very
still while the machine did several scans of my body, especially my neck. I was a little scared because what if the
cancer had spread somewhere else in my body?
What if I had to have another surgery?
I wouldn’t know any of this for about two weeks when I went back to my
endocrinologist for the results. So, I
kept myself busy with classes, work, and studying for my nursing entrance exam
to prevent myself from thinking about it.
However, when the day finally came, it was good news. My scans showed that I did have thyroid cells
in my body, but they were only in my neck, meaning that I didn’t have any
cancer anywhere else in my body. It also
meant that the radiation killed those thyroid cells that were still there. I couldn’t have been more relieved! My doctor informed me that I would have to
have another scan in six months, but for now, things looked good. The only thing he had to worry about now was
determining the right dosage of Synthroid for me to take (Synthroid is the
medication I have to take every day that takes the place of my thyroid).
By the time I got the results of my scans,
it was near the end of June. I think
this was the time that it really hit me that I had cancer. I don’t know if it was because I had been
doing some shadowing at the College Station Med Center and I was around people
that were sick that made me really start to think about it. Or maybe it was the fact that I had more free
time and my mind wandered to that subject.
But it really hit me hard around that time. Being diagnosed with cancer affects you
physically, emotionally, and psychologically.
I think since I had gone through all the physical aspects of it, the
emotional and psychological parts slammed into me like a freight train. There was one week in July where I felt
really down about it. I was taking a
writing class and for our fourth paper, we could write about a medical journey
that someone we know went through or one that we went through ourselves. I already knew that I was going to write
about my thyroid cancer. However, I
didn’t know that we were going to have to tell our topics to the whole
class. I knew that two people would edit
our papers, but saying “I had cancer” out loud became scary to me. When it was my turn, I just said I was
writing about having my thyroid removed.
I couldn’t tell this room of people that I hardly knew that I had been
diagnosed with cancer. The sentence just
wouldn’t come out. Had I become afraid
of the word, cancer, itself? When I got
home later that afternoon, I was so upset.
I had hit a low point.
Thankfully, one of my roommates, Lacy, was home and she talked things
out with me. I don’t know what I would
have done that day if she hadn’t been able to help me work through my
emotions. I even bought one of those
Chicken Soup books for cancer survivors, hoping that it would help me. It actually did. By reading the stories in it, it invigorated
my spirit that had been so low in the previous weeks.
Since then, I have given a lot of thought to
what I’ve learned from all of this. Life
is short and you need to take the time to enjoy it. The past few years or so, I’ve been so
concentrated with school that I haven’t been spending enough time with the
people that matter the most to me.
Without my family and friends that were by me through all of this, I
wouldn’t have been kept as sane as I was.
I also learned to stop asking, “Why me?”
God gave me this journey for a reason.
Life is too short to be bitter about it.
I’ve made it through what hopefully will be the worst and I am grateful
for that. I was lucky to be diagnosed
with a form of thyroid cancer that has high survival rates. Most people go on to live a relatively normal
life. As for my fear of the actual word,
I think I’ve gotten over it. I still
feel a bit of fear within me whenever a professor mentions the word “cancer” in
class (which is rare), but I can say it and talk about it. I found an interesting quote the other day
online: "Cancer does not define me, but how I live and fight with cancer
DOES define me.” This could not be
truer. I AM NOT cancer. Cancer just happens to be a chapter in the
story of my life. It will always be part
of me, but it is not who I am. I think
part of my fear in telling others about it was that I was afraid that when
other people thought of me, all they would associate me with was that I had
cancer. I know that sounds awful, but
that’s really how I felt. Those people
in my writing class didn’t know anything about me and I was scared that if I
told them I had cancer that was all they would know me as. But as my mom said, “You shouldn’t worry
about what other people think. You had
cancer and survived. If they don’t want
to associate themselves with you because you had cancer, then it’s their
loss.” I also learned that I need to
talk about things instead of bottling them up.
I usually wear my emotions on my sleeve, but for some reason, when I was
having a hard time dealing with this, I felt like I couldn’t talk about
it. I waited until I was at my lowest to
finally talk to someone. As for the
future, of course I have fears for what lies ahead of me. Sometimes, I lie awake at night praying that
the cancer doesn’t come back. But I know
if it does, I will, as we Aggies like to say, beat the hell outta it! I also worry about passing this on to any
kids that I will have in the future. It
might sound silly to worry about that now when I am nowhere near having kids,
but it is something that I think about sometimes. Also, I’ve thought about working with ThyCa,
Thyroid Cancer Survivors’ Association, in the future to help promote awareness
and work with others who went through what I did. I think that would put my cancer battle to
good use.
As for now, I am going to work hard at my
last semester at A&M and hope that I get into the nursing school here, so I
can start classes there in the spring. I
feel better than I have in months, physically and emotionally. My doctor is still working on finding the
right dosage of medication for me, but I know we’ll get there eventually. I’ll undergo my other scan in a few months to
make sure the cancer hasn’t come back. I
just hope my story brings more awareness to you all about thyroid cancer
because, unfortunately, statistics show it is on the rise. And I don’t want any of you to have to go
through what I did.
If you want more
information, check out http://www.thyca.org/
"I can do all
things through Christ who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13
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