My mother had a theory about test results (I'm not talking school here). She always said that no news is good news. She was adamant in her view that, if test results were of a negative nature, the doctor would be in touch quickly. Her words ring true to me now, as I promptly receive phone calls that I do not wish to receive.
I recently discovered a bump on my thyroid and, due to family history, I immediately set the wheels in motion to determine what it is. Having been experiencing symptoms such as extreme fatigue, interminable hot flashes and weight gain, I was not surprised to discover through blood tests that I have an under active thyroid. I embarked on a medication regimen that is helping with the fatigue and hot flashes, but I still have to deal with the bump. My GP ordered an ultrasound, which I promptly scheduled. In less than twenty four hours, when I saw her number flash on my cell phone, I knew the bump was not a figment of my imagination. My new endocrinologist was not alarmed, and suggested waiting four months and repeating the test. However, since my mother died of thyroid cancer, I informed her that waiting to see if the bump grows is not an option. She therefore scheduled a biopsy, an unpleasant little test that didn't so much hurt, but was extremely stressful when, with a needle stuck in my throat, the doctor (without warning) instructed me not to swallow. Have you ever tried not to swallow? It is not an easy feat, and I was not in a position to ask him what would happen if I did. Fortunately, it was over quickly, and I went on my merry way, anticipating the dreaded phone call that I had no doubt would be forthcoming. My doctor's phone number flashed on my cell phone screen in under forty eight hours. My heart leaped as I answered, anticipating the news that would not be positive in nature. She informed me that my bump, technically known as a nodule, contains atypical cells, but that... they are not necessarily cancer. She didn't seem concerned, but she did take the liberty of consulting with an ENT, and I promptly scheduled an appointment for the following day, the day before Thanksgiving. He is going to remove the portion of my thyroid that contains the nodule, and it will be sent to pathology for testing. The subsequent portion of our conversation seemed surreal. He very plainly stated that, if it is cancer, the entire thyroid will have to be removed. As in any major crisis in my life, I went numb, electing not to feel or to absorb the potential enormity of that statement.
I am planning to have the surgery sometime in late January, a mere few weeks away. I had previously registered for the spring 2015 semester at school, and I am hopeful that I will not be compelled to withdraw.
In my first real attempt at compartmentalizing, I have spent precious time with my family and friends over the holidays, attempting to put the upcoming surgical procedure out of my mind. Judging by my relentless insomnia, I have not been entirely successful. After the holidays, I will get down to the business of reassuring my sons and planning for my future, both immediate and long term. In recent years, I have taken time to reflect at the end of each year, to review my accomplishments, and to set new goals. An important goal of mine is always to set a positive example for my sons. This latest challenge will provide me with a host of new opportunities to do just that.
