Friday, May 11, 2012

How does my neck look? - 5/11/2012

Two years ago today, at my post surgery follow-up appt, I was given the bad news, "Sorry, it is cancer". I don't remember the exact words my ENT told me, or the exact words I said in reply. I do remember him telling me I could get a second opinion on the pathology. I didn't need it. I knew going into the surgery that if it was hurthle cell carcinoma, the rest of my thyroid had to be removed. I just wanted to know how soon the second surgery could be done, and I wanted it done ASAP. Luckily, he had someone cancel that following Monday, so I took it.

I think in the back of my mind I already knew I had it. And it is probably best that it was my ENT who told me the results of my FNA instead of my Endo because I don't think I could have handled that kind of information knowing that I would not have my ENT consult for another month. Part of me was hoping it wasn't cancer, especially when my mom told me that when my ENT spoke with her after my surgery, he told her he felt positive it was not, but that the surgery right before mine was. He was wrong on both, but that doesn't matter because there was more cancer to be found on my right lobe after the second surgery.

It also meant I would need to take more time off from work. I remember telling my boss that I didn't want to share the reason for my 2 week absence with the rest of the team. But, since I was going in for another surgery, I knew I had to say something. It took a while to compose my email, but I wanted it to be informative, not a "woe is me" announcement. At this point, I also decided to tell my closest friends. That too was another difficult email to compose. I was so far away from all of them, and when they hear from me it is to tell them that I have cancer. Great.

I have come a long way since hearing those three words no one wants to hear ("it is cancer"). So two years after I was told I have thyroid cancer, how does my neck look?
  








Now, fast forward two years later and I am dealing with the one side effect I had from my RAI treatment, a blocked tear duct. Left nasolacrimal duct obstruction. The treatment, left dacryocystorhinostomy, or a DCR. It was done yesterday. My left eye is still puffy. My surgeon called this morning to check up on me. He said I could take off the bandage, and that "I would continue to have some tearing for about two weeks, that I'd get some draining through my nose or the back of my throat, but it would not affect my brain." LoL - where do all my doctors get their humor from? So anyway, how does my left eye look?
  





Friday, May 4, 2012

2 years later...

Two years ago, my left thyroid lobe was removed. In the back of my mind, I knew I was going to be fine regardless of whether or not cancer was found in that lobe, I just wasn't sure what it was going to take to feel 'normal' again, or rather what my new 'normal' was going to feel like.

I had done enough reading and research on hurthle cell carcinoma to know that if that is what was in my left lobe, the right side also had to be removed, that I would be given RAI, that I would be on thyroid meds for the rest of my life, and that it could come back 20 years down the line. I was afraid of the daily requirement for medication - how on earth was I going to get used to taking a little pill every morning, at the same time every day, 30-60 minutes before I ate breakfast, the same breakfast for the rest of my life? I don't even wake up at the same time on a daily basis, let alone be able to wait 30-60 minutes before eating when I wake up ready to eat every morning. But I have gotten used to it. I had to.

The first eight months were the worst for me. I was always waiting to hear my Endo tell me that my Tg levels were off the charts and I'd need another surgery, or that I would feel a bulge in my neck area that was a lymph node that needed to be removed. I was constantly worried that they did not get it all, not with the surgeries, not with the RAI. Didn't help that my first ultrasound post surgery was abnormal. Didn't help that I was having thyroid brain fog in the afternoons.

I have been on 88mcg Levoxyl and 10mcg T3 (5mcg, twice daily) for over a year now. I forget to take my afternoon T3 dose at least once a month. Luckily that has not affected my Tg or TSH levels. So far the only issue I have is weight gain. I feel fine most of the time, so my meds are probably fine where they are. I guess I can say that I am pretty close to feeling normal again. I say 'pretty close' because I am not free and clear from recurrence, none of us ThyCans are, so it is a rather fragile normal.

So what do I worry about now? Well, my left tear duct started to show signs of blockage six months after RAI, so I constantly have to dab my left eye. I learned quickly that I could not use low-end tissues otherwise my left eye would get even more irritated, and I've had two bouts of Conjunctivitus over the last two years. But I am happy to say that I am finally getting it fixed next week! Otherwise, I have come to the conclusion that I should only worry about it if my blood work ever comes back with detectable Tg or my TSH is over 1.0, and either continues to trend upwards.

So two years later, things are going well.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Radiation, of another kind

Today is my mom's first external beam radiation treatment for her lung cancer. A bit scary. It only takes 10 minutes or so. They are running late today, so that didn't help her nervousness.

I remember waiting for my RAI pill. That took forever too. Didn't help that the doc had to explain everything and answer all of my questions before it could he administered. At least she will not be radioactive like I was. I hear there is pain involved with this type though. Just hoping this therapy gets all the cancer.

And I still wonder, why my mom, why now? Sure, way bettter technology these days, but wasn't me having cancer enough for my family to have to go through? So prayer. Prayer for grace and peace in what she has to go through. It will be Ok, mom. Just something more to help you kick cancer's ass.