And the other shoe has dropped....sort of. I heard from my doctor yesterday about my blood test results and the next step in this great thyroid/lymph node adventure....and it's not the news I wanted. My thyroglobulin value is between 0 and .2. I realize that I'm not going to hear a definitive "cancer free" and the best I can hope for is "undetectable". So that's a good result.
However, we are still not sure why my lymph nodes are huge. So in March, I will repeat the neck ultrasound. Depending on those results, I may have the thyrogen shots and thyroglobulin (TG) blood test again.
So the good news: my TG value is less than .2 and there won't be any cutting into my neck to get out lymph nodes right now.
The bad news: I had hoped this would be my last round of testing since I'm nearly 5 years out from my surgery and radioactive iodine therapy. At this point, I should be able to go off the yearly protocol. But instead I'm back to testing every 6 months. I feel disappointed, sad and somewhat angry. I want to move on with my life. I have spent 5 years of my life worrying about cancer and I just want to be done. But I'm not done. I'm still in limbo. It's still not settled.
Showing posts with label remission. Show all posts
Showing posts with label remission. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
I might glow, but my scan didn't
I had my radioactive iodine scan on Friday and before I could even get home, I got the call. Nothing "lit up" on my scan meaning that there was no evidence of thyroid cells in my body. WOOOHOOOO!
Still waiting on thyroglobulin blood test results and a call from my doctor to discuss the next step with my lymph nodes that have been causing trouble.
Still waiting on thyroglobulin blood test results and a call from my doctor to discuss the next step with my lymph nodes that have been causing trouble.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
A very blustery day
Today has been such an odd weather day. Very, very windy. 40 mph winds with 60 mph gusts (last I had heard anyway). It has been sunny and stormy all at once.
Today was my 2nd Thyrogen injection. It went a lot easier for me today than yesterday. I got a little dizzy afterwards but the nurse I had moved through the whole thing much faster which I believe helped the level of panic I felt to be much less. Also I had my hubby with me for moral support (and in case I passed out) and that helped a lot.
When I got home from the hospital, I worked on painting this dresser for the rest of the afternoon. I need to pull out the drawers still and do the sides of them and the inside trim of the dresser. But the dresser and drawer faces already have 2 coats of paint on them, so I'd say I'm about 90% done. After this is completed, I just have some shelves to paint and then the transformation of our bedroom furniture from unfinished pine to black/brown will be complete.
On tomorrow's agenda: radioactive iodine.
Today was my 2nd Thyrogen injection. It went a lot easier for me today than yesterday. I got a little dizzy afterwards but the nurse I had moved through the whole thing much faster which I believe helped the level of panic I felt to be much less. Also I had my hubby with me for moral support (and in case I passed out) and that helped a lot.
When I got home from the hospital, I worked on painting this dresser for the rest of the afternoon. I need to pull out the drawers still and do the sides of them and the inside trim of the dresser. But the dresser and drawer faces already have 2 coats of paint on them, so I'd say I'm about 90% done. After this is completed, I just have some shelves to paint and then the transformation of our bedroom furniture from unfinished pine to black/brown will be complete.
On tomorrow's agenda: radioactive iodine.
Monday, October 25, 2010
LID: Day 14, Scan: Week Day 1
Today was my first day of "scan week" which meant I got to go to the hospital this morning for a Thyrogen injection. Thyrogen will get me ready for the blood test I need to have on Friday that checks for a thyroglobulin level in my blood. I'd forgotten how much the Thyrogen shots burn. Ouch!
It was a really rough trip to the hospital for me this morning. Since I have panic attacks, I had sort of expected that it would be hard for me. I had no idea how bad it would be today. After all, I knew what to expect because I have done this more times than I can count. Thank goodness for my husband who came to my rescue with coffee & anti-anxiety meds. I really hope that tomorrow is better.
It was a really rough trip to the hospital for me this morning. Since I have panic attacks, I had sort of expected that it would be hard for me. I had no idea how bad it would be today. After all, I knew what to expect because I have done this more times than I can count. Thank goodness for my husband who came to my rescue with coffee & anti-anxiety meds. I really hope that tomorrow is better.
Friday, October 22, 2010
LID: Day 11
I'm so blessed to have a sweet husband who is willing to stay up late making me muffins from the Thyca Low Iodine Diet Cookbook. So this morning I have some yummy pumpkin cranberry muffins for breakfast (with low iodine dairy free spread) and some tea. I'm so happy to have a break from peanut butter and bananas.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Trying to be brave
It's Low Iodine Diet, Day 10 and Day 1 out of 5 for the trips to the hospital for diagnostics. I wish I had something inspiring to say or some great LID diet tip to share but I don't. Today was just a blood test, but as usual I had a panic attack going to the hospital and another leaving it. It hit me like a ton of bricks that I am going through this...it's happening.
I am so thankful for the supportive comments people leave on Facebook. Quite often, Josh and I feel alone in the cancer battle. So those comments are really helpful!
My "I'm trying to be brave" face this morning...
My thyroid cancer survivor pin. I'm going to wear it every day that I have to go to the hospital. It's my good luck charm.
I am so thankful for the supportive comments people leave on Facebook. Quite often, Josh and I feel alone in the cancer battle. So those comments are really helpful!
My "I'm trying to be brave" face this morning...
My thyroid cancer survivor pin. I'm going to wear it every day that I have to go to the hospital. It's my good luck charm.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Timing in the Thyroidland game
Some people say that timing is everything. Life is about "being in the right place at the right time" or the "wrong place at the wrong time". I have learned over the past year how precious time is. How easily it can be taken for granted and how we never know when the time is up, when we've run out of time with someone that we love.
The past 10 months have had a lot to do with timing for me. It's been a running tab of time. How long was it since I last hugged my Dad? How many days were left of school? How many days until I graduated? How many days will I have to wait for those results or that appointment? There were times when the days dragged on and times where the days went by too fast. Times where I felt that that the passing of time was healing. Times where I have reflected to how different things are this year than they were on that same day last year. Things are very different this year, but in ways they are also the same. This time last year I was stuck in the waiting place. I was waiting to find out how bad Dad's cancer was. It was a difficult couple of weeks that I floated through, hoping for the best but knowing in my heart that the news wasn't going to be what I wanted to hear.
This year I find myself again in the waiting place. I'm waiting to find out if my cancer has returned and moved into my lymph nodes in my neck. At each step of the diagnostics, I tell myself "this will be good news, and this will be the last step". But then I move to the next step again. It almost feels like playing a game of Candyland with my daughter. Sort of like a Thyroidland board game. Just when I think that I have finally won the game, I get one of those silly face cards and I have to move backwards again. Or I wind up on the wrong square and I have to wait until someone draws a certain card before I can move again. Unlike in Candyland I could wind up at the castle or somewhere worse if I wind up having to take the fork in the road.
Time moves slowly in Thyroidland. There are diets to be followed, shots to suffer through, scans to hold still for and most importantly...news to wait to hear. Although I've been through steps 1 and 2 of the game, I still have many more to take before the castle at the end is in sight. Because you see, it's all about timing. You can't have the scan without starving any possible thyroid cancer cells of iodine. And then there's the shots which have to be given 2 days in a row. And then there's bloodwork that needs to be drawn on certain days. The radioactive pill to swallow. And of course, the big enchilada...the scan. All timed out just so. Each a carefully planned square on the Thyroidland game board. If you are lucky, you get to the end where a tasty iodine rich meal awaits you along with a phone call from your endocrinologist or oncologist telling you that it's all clear and you can get out of the waiting place and advance to the castle.
The timing of this year's round of the Thyroidland game troubles me. As I mentioned earlier, there is that saying that "timing is everything" which makes me think that the timing can be an omen. A good omen quite often, but sometimes a bad omen. You see this isn't the first October that I have spent playing this game. I very vividly recall my very first round in October 2005, the year that my cancer was diagnosed. That year my steps in the game started in September and ended in January of 2006 with a round of radioactive iodine therapy or RAI. This year feels so similar to that one. At every turn, I told myself "this time it's going to be okay & this is the last step". Yet I would get that call telling me to draw another card, advance one square...move on to the next step. Rather than a glowing sparkly castle at the end of that game what awaited me at the end was a different sort of glow....the kind that you can only get after swallowing a capsule containing a hefty dose of RAI. There the castle was an isolated room at the hospital where everything is covered in protective plastic to protect it from the patient. Nurses rush in and out because you, the patient are dangerous to them. The big excitement is when the radiation techs come in and measure you with their equipment to see if you are still dangerous to the public. You sleep, not because you are waiting for the prince to come and give you a sweet wake up kiss. But because you are so hypothyroid that you can't stay awake. It's a place where you miss your kids, your husband, and your dog. Oh how much better that gumdrop covered palace looked!
I really hope that this year I wind up with the castle rather than the hospital room. I wish that I could say that there was a winning strategy to the Thyroidland game, but I don't know which cards I will draw. I try not to believe that timing is everything and I stay hopeful. But really I don't know this turn will play out. I don't if the deck was shuffled or if it will be just like 2005. I can only hope that I get to keep going in the game until I get to the happy ending.
The past 10 months have had a lot to do with timing for me. It's been a running tab of time. How long was it since I last hugged my Dad? How many days were left of school? How many days until I graduated? How many days will I have to wait for those results or that appointment? There were times when the days dragged on and times where the days went by too fast. Times where I felt that that the passing of time was healing. Times where I have reflected to how different things are this year than they were on that same day last year. Things are very different this year, but in ways they are also the same. This time last year I was stuck in the waiting place. I was waiting to find out how bad Dad's cancer was. It was a difficult couple of weeks that I floated through, hoping for the best but knowing in my heart that the news wasn't going to be what I wanted to hear.
Time moves slowly in Thyroidland. There are diets to be followed, shots to suffer through, scans to hold still for and most importantly...news to wait to hear. Although I've been through steps 1 and 2 of the game, I still have many more to take before the castle at the end is in sight. Because you see, it's all about timing. You can't have the scan without starving any possible thyroid cancer cells of iodine. And then there's the shots which have to be given 2 days in a row. And then there's bloodwork that needs to be drawn on certain days. The radioactive pill to swallow. And of course, the big enchilada...the scan. All timed out just so. Each a carefully planned square on the Thyroidland game board. If you are lucky, you get to the end where a tasty iodine rich meal awaits you along with a phone call from your endocrinologist or oncologist telling you that it's all clear and you can get out of the waiting place and advance to the castle.
The timing of this year's round of the Thyroidland game troubles me. As I mentioned earlier, there is that saying that "timing is everything" which makes me think that the timing can be an omen. A good omen quite often, but sometimes a bad omen. You see this isn't the first October that I have spent playing this game. I very vividly recall my very first round in October 2005, the year that my cancer was diagnosed. That year my steps in the game started in September and ended in January of 2006 with a round of radioactive iodine therapy or RAI. This year feels so similar to that one. At every turn, I told myself "this time it's going to be okay & this is the last step". Yet I would get that call telling me to draw another card, advance one square...move on to the next step. Rather than a glowing sparkly castle at the end of that game what awaited me at the end was a different sort of glow....the kind that you can only get after swallowing a capsule containing a hefty dose of RAI. There the castle was an isolated room at the hospital where everything is covered in protective plastic to protect it from the patient. Nurses rush in and out because you, the patient are dangerous to them. The big excitement is when the radiation techs come in and measure you with their equipment to see if you are still dangerous to the public. You sleep, not because you are waiting for the prince to come and give you a sweet wake up kiss. But because you are so hypothyroid that you can't stay awake. It's a place where you miss your kids, your husband, and your dog. Oh how much better that gumdrop covered palace looked!
I really hope that this year I wind up with the castle rather than the hospital room. I wish that I could say that there was a winning strategy to the Thyroidland game, but I don't know which cards I will draw. I try not to believe that timing is everything and I stay hopeful. But really I don't know this turn will play out. I don't if the deck was shuffled or if it will be just like 2005. I can only hope that I get to keep going in the game until I get to the happy ending.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Low iodine diet, here I come!
I just talked to my endocrinologist on the phone. My lymph nodes are bigger than they have ever been. The radiologist thinks they are benign from what she saw, but she cannot be sure without a tissue sample. So...
I will be doing the radioactive iodine uptake and scan. Of course this comes with bonus sucky low iodine diet (LID) that I have to be on for 2 weeks to starve my cells for iodine. I asked if I can put it off a couple more weeks because childish as this may be, I do not want to be on the LID for our 9th anniversary and my 34th birthday. After how horrible last year's anniversary & birthday were I really want this year to be awesome.
If anything lights up on that scan to indicate thyroid tissue or my thyroglobulin blood test has a value other than undetectable, I will have surgery to remove the lymph nodes in my neck causing this trouble. As my doctor reminded me, if the cancer is back it is slow growing so we have time to get it. It really does seem unlikely that it is, but then it was unlikely that when I was 29 that I was diagnosed with Stage III thyroid cancer at all....
I'm trying to stay positive. I don't have a choice but to go through this so I can see the bright future that I have on the other side.
I will be doing the radioactive iodine uptake and scan. Of course this comes with bonus sucky low iodine diet (LID) that I have to be on for 2 weeks to starve my cells for iodine. I asked if I can put it off a couple more weeks because childish as this may be, I do not want to be on the LID for our 9th anniversary and my 34th birthday. After how horrible last year's anniversary & birthday were I really want this year to be awesome.
If anything lights up on that scan to indicate thyroid tissue or my thyroglobulin blood test has a value other than undetectable, I will have surgery to remove the lymph nodes in my neck causing this trouble. As my doctor reminded me, if the cancer is back it is slow growing so we have time to get it. It really does seem unlikely that it is, but then it was unlikely that when I was 29 that I was diagnosed with Stage III thyroid cancer at all....
I'm trying to stay positive. I don't have a choice but to go through this so I can see the bright future that I have on the other side.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
And now we wait....
I did my first step of the yearly cancer testing this morning which was an ultrasound of my neck. They were looking at my thyroid bed and the lymph nodes in my neck. I am not at all worried that there would be tissue in my thyroid bed. Because hey, it's been nearly 5 years since my 2 lobectomies that removed my thyroid. (I had the first one in Oct. 2005 & the second in Nov. 2005). But I am concerned about my lymph nodes because they have been suspicious in the past. I have even had a biopsy of the lymph node closest to my carotid artery. Let me tell you, that was not awesome. It was painful and scary and I hope it never happens again.
So the radiologist like instantly had my scan to look at, but I probably won't hear anything until the end of the week from my endocrinologist. So now, it's time to wait. If anything looks out of place from the ultrasound, I will be doing the radioactive iodine uptake & scan in October. If not, there may never be RAI uptake & scan in my future again.
So either way, I have my low iodine cookbook ready....ready to use or ready to burn.
So the radiologist like instantly had my scan to look at, but I probably won't hear anything until the end of the week from my endocrinologist. So now, it's time to wait. If anything looks out of place from the ultrasound, I will be doing the radioactive iodine uptake & scan in October. If not, there may never be RAI uptake & scan in my future again.
So either way, I have my low iodine cookbook ready....ready to use or ready to burn.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Update
My appointment with my endocrinologist went alright. She didn't feel anything in my neck. I will be having an ultrasound of my neck and hopefully that will help to discover why I have trouble swallowing. If anything is wrong, I'll be having a scan. If not, I'll have thyrogen injections and a blood test. Should be over by mid-October.
On the upside, my sweet husband took me out for a picnic lunch at the hospital. I love going there and watching the swans.
On the upside, my sweet husband took me out for a picnic lunch at the hospital. I love going there and watching the swans.
I might glow in the dark: Year 4
Today I begin the first step in my yearly cancer check-up. I know what to expect. There won't be any surprises. The first step is a visit to the endocrinologist's office. She'll examine my thyroid bed and my neck and hopefully she won't feel anything inside there. There hasn't been anything in there since November of 2005 (except for the spring of 2007 where one crazy lymph node gave me a scare). We'll talk about what diagnostics are necessary to make sure that the cancer hasn't come back, that there are no thyroid cells floating around in my body. And then I'll make a bunch of appointments to carry out those plans. I might wind up on the dreaded low iodine diet. I'll spend a lot of time at the hospital one week. I'll get some shots. I might get some radioactive iodine. I might have an uncomfortable neck ultrasound. I'll have a blood test or two. It will suck, but I've been through it several times before. No surprises.
So why do I have an ominous feeling this year? Why have I spent the past two nights filled with panic over seeing her? For one, I am symptomatic. I have trouble swallowing. That is the only symptom that I noticed before my initial diagnosis. It's the symptom that led my surgeon to take out the "nodule" on my thyroid after my biopsy didn't show any cancer. It's that symptom, that nodule that turned out to be part of Stage III tumor. It's probably about 10 times more likely that any trouble swallowing I have is related to my queen-sized tonsils rather than a tumor. After all I have had 4 doctors feel my neck recently and not one of them has found any cause for concern. But still the panic lingers...
It's more than worries about tumors that causes me to dread this check-up. It's the reminder that I am a cancer patient. That at any time in my life, those crazy thyroid cells could start growing again...that the cancer could make a repeat performance. The reminder that thyroid cancer can come back after 20 years. I will never be done with this. Every morning of my life, I will wake up needing to take Synthroid to replace my thyroid hormones and fool my brain into thinking that nasty thyroid is still there. Every morning I will feel nauseous as I wait out the recommended time to eat breakfast. Taking pills on any empty stomach has never agreed with me. I will always see that scar on my neck first when I look in a mirror. And I will always need an endocrinologist.
And last but certainly not least, there's the survivor's guilt. This time last year my Dad was just about to start his cancer battle. A battle that he lost. On the day I was diagnosed, during my long walk out of my doctor's office I made a bargain with God/the universe/some higher power. I would be sick, but I would be the only one who experienced the big C. I would take one for the team. But cancer would leave the rest of my family alone. That was the deal. Was I not sick enough? If I had anaplastic thyroid cancer instead of follicular/papillary would it have been enough? Was it because I didn't need chemo? Is that why he got sick and I got to live? I remember taking him to radiation and chemo. I remember him asking me "Is that what it was like for you?" And I remember a crushing feeling of guilt and sadness as I responded "No Dad, I didn't suffer like you do". I still wish that I could have suffered more so that he would have suffered less.
In my head I know that I really don't have the power to make a bargain like that. I couldn't guarantee to take one for the team. But a small part of my brain says differently. Along with that it creates the fear and the panic. It whispers to me "maybe this time you won't be spared....maybe this time you don't deserve it".
But then I remember this:
July 13th, 2010 I celebrated 4 years of remission. This year at Relay For Life I wrote 4 years next to my name. I'm kicking cancer's butt. I've been doing it for 4 years now. I'm doing everything that's really in my power to win this. That's what I know for sure. The crappy part about cancer though is that is all I can count on. But maybe that's enough? Enough to get me through to year 5 anyway right?
So why do I have an ominous feeling this year? Why have I spent the past two nights filled with panic over seeing her? For one, I am symptomatic. I have trouble swallowing. That is the only symptom that I noticed before my initial diagnosis. It's the symptom that led my surgeon to take out the "nodule" on my thyroid after my biopsy didn't show any cancer. It's that symptom, that nodule that turned out to be part of Stage III tumor. It's probably about 10 times more likely that any trouble swallowing I have is related to my queen-sized tonsils rather than a tumor. After all I have had 4 doctors feel my neck recently and not one of them has found any cause for concern. But still the panic lingers...
It's more than worries about tumors that causes me to dread this check-up. It's the reminder that I am a cancer patient. That at any time in my life, those crazy thyroid cells could start growing again...that the cancer could make a repeat performance. The reminder that thyroid cancer can come back after 20 years. I will never be done with this. Every morning of my life, I will wake up needing to take Synthroid to replace my thyroid hormones and fool my brain into thinking that nasty thyroid is still there. Every morning I will feel nauseous as I wait out the recommended time to eat breakfast. Taking pills on any empty stomach has never agreed with me. I will always see that scar on my neck first when I look in a mirror. And I will always need an endocrinologist.
And last but certainly not least, there's the survivor's guilt. This time last year my Dad was just about to start his cancer battle. A battle that he lost. On the day I was diagnosed, during my long walk out of my doctor's office I made a bargain with God/the universe/some higher power. I would be sick, but I would be the only one who experienced the big C. I would take one for the team. But cancer would leave the rest of my family alone. That was the deal. Was I not sick enough? If I had anaplastic thyroid cancer instead of follicular/papillary would it have been enough? Was it because I didn't need chemo? Is that why he got sick and I got to live? I remember taking him to radiation and chemo. I remember him asking me "Is that what it was like for you?" And I remember a crushing feeling of guilt and sadness as I responded "No Dad, I didn't suffer like you do". I still wish that I could have suffered more so that he would have suffered less.
In my head I know that I really don't have the power to make a bargain like that. I couldn't guarantee to take one for the team. But a small part of my brain says differently. Along with that it creates the fear and the panic. It whispers to me "maybe this time you won't be spared....maybe this time you don't deserve it".
But then I remember this:
July 13th, 2010 I celebrated 4 years of remission. This year at Relay For Life I wrote 4 years next to my name. I'm kicking cancer's butt. I've been doing it for 4 years now. I'm doing everything that's really in my power to win this. That's what I know for sure. The crappy part about cancer though is that is all I can count on. But maybe that's enough? Enough to get me through to year 5 anyway right?
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Remission Anniversary #4
Tuesday was my my 4th time celebrating the moment I found out my cancer was in remission. Traditionally we make it a family day and do something fun outside together. This year it was really hot with no breeze outside which limited our time outside, but we still had a great time.
Evan had to go to summer school for the half the day and Josh had to work a 1/2 day. So Abby and I enjoyed a lazy morning in our pj's watching cartoons. Then we went and picked up the guys to have a beautiful picnic. We went to a butterfly exhibit at The Peck Road Farm in Geneva. We also enjoyed some sno cones and went swimming. After Abby went to bed, Evan babysat for us so we could grab some margaritas with some friends at Eduardo's. It was a really great day. We did a lot of fun things and the kids behaved excellently.
My remission anniversary is more important to me than my birthday. Being born was easy. Kicking cancer's butt took a lot more effort on my part.
Some photos of the day....
Evan had to go to summer school for the half the day and Josh had to work a 1/2 day. So Abby and I enjoyed a lazy morning in our pj's watching cartoons. Then we went and picked up the guys to have a beautiful picnic. We went to a butterfly exhibit at The Peck Road Farm in Geneva. We also enjoyed some sno cones and went swimming. After Abby went to bed, Evan babysat for us so we could grab some margaritas with some friends at Eduardo's. It was a really great day. We did a lot of fun things and the kids behaved excellently.
My remission anniversary is more important to me than my birthday. Being born was easy. Kicking cancer's butt took a lot more effort on my part.
Some photos of the day....
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Yummy, yummy iodine
To celebrate the end of the 3 week long low iodine diet and my good scan, Josh took me out for dinner. The thing I was missing most during the LID was cheese so what better way to indulge than with a pizza. It was really nice to be able to eat pizza & beer nuggets....two things that there's no way I could even eaten on the LID.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Take that cancer!
After I had my scan this morning, the radiologist gave me the all clear that the pictures were good and wouldn't need to re-scan me. I was thrilled....if you've had to have a whole body scan, you understand why. It sucks to lie perfectly still, hands over your head with a big square machine like less than an inch from your face. Since I knew the scan was all clear, I felt pretty confident that the low iodine diet was over...after all I was expecting good results and not to hear that I needed treatment. So I celebrated with an iced mocha coffee from Burger King. I headed back over to the hospital to get my blood drawn and as I was sitting in the parking lot finishing my coffee, my doctor's office called with my scan results. Nothing showed up! I still can't believe I had results in under 30 minutes. Kudos to the radiology department at Delnor Hospital!!!!
I do still have to clear the hurdle of a good thyroglobulin test result but I am not worried. I had that tested not long ago and it was <.2 which is about as good as result as I can get.
Day 5
I'm in my comfy clothes and all ready to leave for the hospital for my scan. I'm even going to wear some awesome old gym socks with my flip flops. I went to bed at 8:30 last night and slept all the way until 6:30 and it was still hard to get up for my alarm.
I know I'll be okay, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little scared. I don't want anything to show up in that scan. I don't want anything to show up in my blood test afterwards either. I broke up with cancer in 2006 and I am not interested in getting back together!
In fact, this is how I feel about cancer:
I know I'll be okay, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little scared. I don't want anything to show up in that scan. I don't want anything to show up in my blood test afterwards either. I broke up with cancer in 2006 and I am not interested in getting back together!
In fact, this is how I feel about cancer:
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Taking time to smell the flowers
I finally got around to putting together our photos from the botanical garden in Peoria into a slideshow. Our trip to the garden was something I wanted to do to celebrate my 3rd year of remission. Each year to celebrate my remission I like to do something as a family with a focus on life. What celebrates life better than a beautiful garden? We had a lovely morning walking through the dewy grass and looking at the pretty flowers and plants. We even saw a fluffy little baby bird on our walk.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Days 2 & 3
So I'm about 1/2 way through scan week now. I feel like I can see the end in sight!
Day 2: Yesterday I had my 2nd dose of Thyrogen. Why does the 2nd shot always hurt more than the first one anyway? Ouch! I started feeling tired and some mind fog yesterday so hypothyroidism is making its appearance. But we spent the afternoon at the pool so I didn't have to think or do much.
Day 2: Apparently enjoying a morning delicacy of a low iodine blueberry muffin was not allowed prior to get radiation. I so wish my endo or the hospital had told me that would be an issue. So after having a quite frustrating trip out to the hospital, I have to do it again in just over an hour. Hopefully this time I won't have to deal with the construction or have a slow-moving, brake happy RV in front of me.
PS: Dear Thyroid, I hate you a whole big bunch today. Because of you I've gotten 2 shots this week, had to give up iodine for the past 2 1/2 weeks and now today I get some more radiation. Like I need more radiation!
PSS: If I have to glow in the dark, can my "glow" be pink?
Monday, August 3, 2009
Day 1
Today is Day 1 of scan week. I had to get myself and Abby up early to go to the hospital for my first shot of Thyrogen which will make me hypothyroid as my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) shoots up high enough to have the scan. I told Abby that I would be getting a shot in my bum this morning. So of course in the quiet waiting room she wanted to talk about my shot in the butt and her fears that I would scream when they gave it to me.
I asked her, "Do you want to stay in the waiting room and play your Nintendo DS or walk back with me when I get the shot?"
Her reply: "I want to stay in the waiting room so I don't have to hear you scream!".
I said: "I'm an adult and adults don't get to scream about shots".
I told my nurse about my conversation with Abby. She thanked me for not planning to scream. Not that it would matter...they'd still give me the shot. Although I'm not fond of big needles in my bum (actually more my hip), I did NOT scream. The screaming comes later...when the hospital bills arrive.
Tomorrow, second dose of Thyrogen via injection in the morning.
I asked her, "Do you want to stay in the waiting room and play your Nintendo DS or walk back with me when I get the shot?"
Her reply: "I want to stay in the waiting room so I don't have to hear you scream!".
I said: "I'm an adult and adults don't get to scream about shots".
I told my nurse about my conversation with Abby. She thanked me for not planning to scream. Not that it would matter...they'd still give me the shot. Although I'm not fond of big needles in my bum (actually more my hip), I did NOT scream. The screaming comes later...when the hospital bills arrive.
Tomorrow, second dose of Thyrogen via injection in the morning.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Tomorrow is day 1 of my week of the thyroid scan. Tomorrow I get my 1st shot. Tomorrow I start to go hypothyroid which means being tired, foggy, slow and having headaches. I'm sad. I feel like I'm going away somewhere for the next 6-8 weeks. Somewhere where I won't be Megan. I won't feel myself...whatever that is anymore. I think I've long since accepted this version of "normal" even though it isn't. Oh what I would give to feel the way I did pre-diagnosis.
I know that the scan is necessary. I need to know that I am still in remission. I know that the low iodine diet, the shots, the being hypothyroid is all part of that. But I have a hard time not feeling sad and a little angry that it also means that I only get to feel "normal" 10 months out of the year. Beating the cancer wasn't the hard part. Living life without a thyroid...that's the hard part.
At least at the end of the week, the diet is over. :-)
I know that the scan is necessary. I need to know that I am still in remission. I know that the low iodine diet, the shots, the being hypothyroid is all part of that. But I have a hard time not feeling sad and a little angry that it also means that I only get to feel "normal" 10 months out of the year. Beating the cancer wasn't the hard part. Living life without a thyroid...that's the hard part.
At least at the end of the week, the diet is over. :-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)