Saline Courier Column #5
I had an endocrinologist appointment this week. So, I thought this would be a great opportunity to share part one of my story with you.
Some people have a sense that something is wrong; they find a lump or have unexplainable pain. It took years for me to develop that sense. I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism in 2004 after three years of symptoms including weight gain, severe depression, anxiety, dry skin and fatigue. I was put on thyroid hormone replacement and went to the doctor periodically for labs and adjustments of medicine dosage. However, I never felt better for any significant length of time. Eventually, I came to believe that I would never feel like myself again.
A few years later, my husband, Josh, and I decided to start trying to add to our little family. After a year of no luck, I asked my doctor about seeing an endocrinologist because I knew that hypothyroidism could hinder my ability to get pregnant. His nurse called me a couple of days later with an appointment time with the specialist. After hanging up the phone, I instantly had a feeling of dread come over me…a gut feeling that something was terribly wrong. I tried to ignore it and chalked it up to nerves getting the best of me. Nevertheless, for moral support, I had my nana go with me to the appointment.
The endocrinologist was kind of like a bull in a china closet. By the time he was finished with the exam I didn’t know if I was upright or standing on my head. All I knew was that he’d found a 3cm x 4cm nodule on the right lobe of my thyroid and I was terrified because I knew what it was…cancer. The chances of a thyroid nodule being malignant are about five percent, meaning five out of 100 nodules will be cancerous. The odds were in my favor but knowing that didn’t ease the gut feelings at all. The results of the biopsy came back within two days. On October 2, 2009 I was diagnosed with papillary thyroid carcinoma.
Being told I had cancer literally knocked the wind out of me. It didn’t help matters when my endocrinologist told me that I had the “good cancer” and that if he had to choose a cancer for any member of his family it would be thyroid cancer. I met with a surgeon to discuss the upcoming surgery and risks. He told me that there was a one percent chance that the removal of my thyroid would impact my vocal chords. As a singer, losing my voice was the worst case scenario for me, though I didn’t have any choice but to have surgery. Chemotherapy doesn’t work on papillary cancer and radiation is more of a last resort. Radioactive Iodine (RAI) is the only treatment for papillary cancer and it’s only given after surgery. Thyroid cells soak up iodine so the radiation kills any residual thyroid tissue and stray cancer cells. I had a thyroidectomy at the end of October. The tumor was wrapped around the nerve to my vocal chord so when it was removed it damaged the nerve causing paralysis. I had RAI treatment and a body scan in mid-November. Results of the scan said the RAI worked. By December, I was cancer-free.
There’s more story to tell but I’ll stop here. Part one of my story was a bit of a whirlwind. I was diagnosed in October and cancer-free by December. Three months is not enough time to accept having cancer. My goal is to spread awareness for a disease that is not taken seriously and is written off to be nothing. I want people to know that there is no such thing as a “good cancer”. I want them to feel validated when they express fears or concerns and, most of all, I want them to be aware of what their body is telling them. Mine was telling me something was wrong for years before I was diagnosed. I want people to learn from my experience and stand up for themselves. Thanks for indulging me. Until next week, be happy!
