Tuesday, May 10, 2011

I was 26 and I had the best cancer.

Unfortunately in today's world, we all compete. We even compete in the sickest of ways. "You are on Prozac, that is nothing, they give me _______ (fill it in) which is inevitably worse than your Prozac." "Oh, you had a finger amputated, I lost an entire leg and I live with the pain everyday."

Since I am not innocent or immune to this weird phenomenon, I will start this blog out with "I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer" (this was told to me to be the best kind of cancer to have, extremely low mortality rate).

So for the many of you that endured more, I am sorry. I wish I could of been there beside you. I am however going to tell a little bit of my story.

I was 26, I had two boys at the time of my diagnosis ages 3 and 1. My thyroid tests had all come up normal but I was still exhausted and couldn't lose any weight.  I went into the doctor and he was busy so the office provided me with the services of his nurse practitioner. She listened to my symptoms, saw my "normal" blood tests and then did a physical exam. She felt the lymph nodes in my neck which were mildly swollen but not tender, and then she stopped. Took a small breath and told me that I had a lump. She continued to inform me that this may be many different things and that I should see a doctor when I returned back home. (Did I mention I was visiting my mother at the time)

Because of the lack of excitement, I didn't worry. However, I was surprised that I didn't know the lump was there, but once pointed out to me, seemed so obvious.
I returned home and made an appointment with a surgeon who did a biopsy. He looked at the biopsy in his clinic and then said we had to send it out for testing. Not even an hour later I was informed that the lump was indeed cancer, very slow growing and the best kind of cancer to have. From that statement I decided I would not worry, cry or get excited. This cancer was not a big deal and it was the "best kind of cancer" to have. I am not going to die. I need to get over it.
I go home call my mother, of course she cries, tell my best friend, again crying, tell my husband, he shows absolutely no emotion and all the while I am thinking to myself, "What the hell is wrong with these people, it is the best kind of cancer."
Surgery was scheduled and more testing was done. I then learned all I could about the different kinds of thyroid cancer. There are a couple that are very common and two others that are significantly more rare and tougher to treat. I am going to rate them from 1-4, 1 being the best kind, 4 being the worst. My first call about the biopsy had stated that the cancer was #1, the next call was, we made a mistake, it is #2. This is fine, these are totally common, I thought to myself.
They rolled me into the surgical room early in the morning. My husband had a final that day (oh did I tell you we were still in college?) and would run over to the hospital as soon as it was done. A few weeks had passed by from diagnosiss to the surgery and my hubby still had no emotion over the entire event. I told him to study for his final, this is the "best kind" of cancer, and I will be fine.
I wake up from surgery, my best friend at my bedside with pictures from her wedding a few months before. We thumbed through pictures, made small talk and she seemed to get teary occasionally, but mostly we pretended that all was well. I asked her about Mike, my husband. Did he get back from his final? She said he did, but has be strolling the lobby and the halls like a zombie. He still had no emotion and couldn't form coherent sentences.
Weeks after the surgery another biopsy came back of the thyroid gland and two lymph nodes. One node had cancer as did the thyroid, the thyroid despite testing normal was completely diseased, Hashimotos, and the tumor was no longer the second best kind of thyroid cancer but it was #3, the third worst. This kind of tumor does not react to radiation or chemo, so if the surgery got the entire tumor, I would not need either of those things, if the tumor had spread past the lymph nodes, we would just have to chase it and cut it out. Yay.....

6 weeks after my surgery I was pregnant with my third child, not quite ready, I had a little of a melt down.
During that melt down, I realized I couldn't stop crying. I started evaluating my recent events and realized that I never allowed myself to get scared, worried or cry about my ordeal. And because it was "the best kind" I never felt that I had the right to blow it out of proportion. But there was no stopping the worry, angst and fear forever, it finally came. It didn't matter if it was the best or the worst kind of cancer, it was cancer just the same and emotions and realizations had to come along with the diagnosis, if I liked it or not.
I am 7 years clear of cancer and I am sure that it was one of the simplest of cancer cases, but I still had to allow myself to feel it. As my idiotic radiologist said, it might be the big "C".
So, as I wrap up this memory, I want to tell all those that may read this, allow yourself to feel. Whether it is depression, or bankruptcy, or cancer or fear. As hard as you try to stay strong, there is a time you have to allow your self to feel as well.
As for all doctors out there, please don't use the term Big "C" or the "best kind", don't sugar coat, just address the issue so we ( the patient ) can properly address the issue as well.
Lastly, allow those men in your life to handle and cope how they can, Mike never shed a tear but did morph into a zombie of a sort. That was ok, that was how he needed to deal. He taught the three yr old to make sandwiches so he could have something when I wasn't feeling well. I can not forget to love those that love me, even if I am confused on how they show it. Life is definitely too short.