Awake and Slit Open?

Weird dream but I think it was real at one point.

Eyes closed, people talking, a murmur can't make it out exactly, beeping.  Trying to swallow but it feels weird, not painful but just weird.  I raised my left arm. I think I moved my head.  "Hang in, we're almost done."  I didn't open my eyes.  I wasn't scared or panicky.  

That is the most proof I have yet that I had awareness during the TT.

The Need for Personal Alignment

I am having another rough day.

I am so fucking alone.  

I am used to being alone, taking care of things myself, and not being a burden to other people.  It usually isn't that big of a deal.  

Right now I just want someone to take care of me.

Sometimes I don't even feel like I am on the same planet as everyone else.  No one touches me besides my doctors.  I get cursory huge from my friends but that is all.  Oh how I wish some guy would touch my body sexually!  I feel so utterly out of sorts, like no one understands me.  Sex, or even just foreplay, would align me with someone else and it would be so divine just for that reason.  Last night I thought that alignment was going to be mine in the form of someone I have had my eye on for a long time, but no.  It was the same elliptical bullshit I've come to expect from this particular man so I went home alone and cried.  Again.  I was more pissed off about the missed alignment than I was about his stupidity.

I had another nightmare, this my first post-op nightmare.  It was Sunday morning; I woke up too early and made myself go back to sleep.  In the nightmare I was on the table with a blue sheet in front of my face and this feeling that I was "stuck," like I couldn't move.  I could see the medical personnel and I was talking (I think that I was anyway) but they were ignoring me.  I forced myself awake and just kind of vibrated from fear for awhile before I forced myself out of bed.  I have to admit that when I went to bed this morning/last night I was a little afraid.

I am a month post-op, btw.  I've gained a pound and my gym closed early today and I forgot.  I ate a bag of Hershey Kisses with Almonds between yesterday and today, feel totally fat stalled at 205 and kicked my expensive scale into the bathroom wall this morning.  People keep telling me how thin I look, but I think it is crap, just like when they say my scar isn't noticeable.   No wonder I can't be honest with anyone because they sure as hell can't be honest with me.

The Cancer Spector

Inevitably, we have other health problems besides cancer that send us to the doctor. Monday was one such day for me, so there I was exactly three weeks post-op back at the scene of the crime.

I was having sharp pain on my left side that wasn't going away- it felt like ovulation but it was going on forever. I saw a physician's assistant on the fly and she sent me off for a very large battery of tests. Because my visit was not planned, she did not have my medical file. It seemed important that she knew I had just had surgery for thyroid cancer so I told her and that was when all of the lab forms came out. First, I went to the lab with a urine sample and then to give three more vials of blood. My poor, overtaxed left elbow vein let out a scream in the form of the most painful draw I have ever had. Ouch. Then I walked over to my favorite place on earth, the hospital, where I had to put on yet another hospital gown for yet another ultrasound. The pelvic ultrasound is definitely more traumatic to me than the neck ultrasound that Dr. M usually performs. The pelvic has an intra-vaginal component. UGH-o-rama. It turns out I have a 3.3 cm cyst on my left ovary. I'm supposed to come back next month for another pelvic ultrasound and to see my primary doctor. More follow up!

So those are the facts, m'am. How was I feeling? Livid. Angry. Exhausted. While I was waiting for my blood draw, Dr. M's fabulous nurse walked by and she said hello and I was a little grumpy but she is just a giant ray of sunshine. Seeing the two of them is more fun than seeing some random person, you know?

Radiology is by the cafeteria, which is by the elevators. When I had surgery, they wheeled me past there on the way to my room. I remember seeing the radiology sign and thinking, hm, of all the times I have been to radiology, it has never been on my back! But then, the cafeteria smells. Oh the smells. I was so nauseous. They warned me that we were going by the cafeteria and my response was to say, repeatedly, "I think I am going to be sick!" Once I was in the elevator I was fine.

So to be back at the scene of that crime, especially after the hard time I had had in the recovery room, freaked me out. My heart was racing when I went over there and when I went to change into my gown, I admit that I cried. I just felt sad. It was more evidence that my normal, old life was never to be again. Even though I was just there for this pain and not for cancer treatment of any kind, it was scary. I swore I wasn't going to be one of those cancer survivors that think every pain is cancer. Yet there I was with this sharp pain in my left side, thinking, "I have ovarian cancer!" I wanted to laugh at myself because it was so absurd, but yet I was only three weeks post-op. My emotions are still raw. I know what I know intellectually but my emotions are just steamrolling that with a, "So?! You have already had cancer, what's to say you don't have it again or won't have it again, or that it will come back or that you will get a different kind?!"

I was called first thing Tuesday with the results and then I was called again yesterday with more results. I almost peed myself each time that I saw the number on my cell.

Now What?

I'm having a tough time today. I feel really sad and irritable. And alone.

I'm supposed to just bounce back and get on with life, right? Yipppeeee, I'm a cancer survivor and now I am going to kick life's ass and go out there and get everything I want!!! Right? I'm strong, and stoic, the hostess with the mostess.

I'm not.

I do have a different perspective on life now, what I am and what I have right now isn't what I want ultimately. I knew that before this happened, now I know I have to do something about it. But that isn't what I am struggling with today.

I'm just so alone. I like seeing my doctors because we are war buddies now, you know? Like Dr. M. I don't have to pretend that I don't have cancer because I'm there to talk about having cancer with him! Everyone else puts the kibbosh on the cancer talk. They'd rather talk about my father and how he had to have his foot amputated last weekend. You know it's bad when your friends choose to talk about an amputation over cancer! And if I talk about I am causing it or making it worse. I am just supposed to act like it's nothing. Cancer is a mindfuck, no matter where it is, what kind it is, or if your treatment is easy or not.

And "moving on?" I feel like something is still hanging over my head. Sure, Dr. M has deferred on RAI for now but that could change. I'm having blood tests at the end of June and then he might want to do it. Or when I see him next for an ultrasound, that could be it too. I'm just waiting for the hammer to fall!

Meanwhile, I am back at work. It is boring and not what I want to do with my life. I have looked at other jobs but I am afraid of losing my sick/vacation time. I have a big fear about that right now.

I have plans though. I am going back to school to try different classes to see what grabs me so I can start again. My current job does not. My history degree and failed attempt at getting an MA, do not. I'm not on this earth to be an office drone! Maybe I will be an archeologist...that's what I am going to try to be this month. Or a seismologist. I have always been fascinated by earthquakes. All I know is I want to be a scientist. I'm smart and inquistive enough. Someday my years fundraising at a large university will be looked back on like a bad dream as I do something cool elsewhere.

And I keep fantasizing about Dr. M. I love to try to figure people out, especially men I am attracted to because usually I am drawn to them for all the wrong reasons. I've never liked a doctor before so naturally I am assuming he is a raging pervert. What kind of person dedicates their lives to examining necks? He is still in my head and I admit I keep pouring water on that weed. I admit that it has no basis in reality but I hope in some way it is helping me through this.

I swore I would never be one of those people who think every little pain is cancer. I've had ovulation pain since Friday night that isn't going away and I am scared shitless because "OMG what if it is ovarian cancer??!" I have an appointment this afternoon to get looked at and NO, it is NOT with Dr. M!

As far as the post-thyroidectomy update, I am still swollen a bit and still in some pain on the right side. I am three weeks post-op. It seems like a long time now. The scar is raised, pink and obvious to me, but no one else seems to notice.

Post-Op

So I took myself off of the narcotics after two days at home because I was getting restless. I wanted to drive and I wanted to return to the gym. So I started taking ibuprofen instead, which dulled the pain but is also an anti-inflammatory. The scar isn't horrible. I felt better after I took the dressing off, to be honest.

Tuesday I saw Dr. S. He was thrilled with the healing thus far and said I could return to all of my normal activities. I thought this was funny because I don't even know what normal activities are anymore, and this hell has only been going on for a month! He also had the -da dum!- pathology report. The thyroid had only the one tumor, it was 1.4cm. The three lymph nodes were all clear. It was the best case. He told me to go see Dr. M. So I called and made an appointment for Thursday, today.

So today I got to see the Hottie of the Month, Dr. M. I am more in love with that man than I have been before. He is...mesmerizing. If only... Anyway, back to business. He said, "So you survived?" Then he started poking at my scar/scabby incision and said I was still swollen but that I looked to be healing well. I mentioned that I was still having some tingling but that it was sporadic so he tapped on my face but I didn't have any twitches. He told me I had the best possible outcome, that I am cured, and there is no cancer in my body. He is not sure I need radioiodine. But he needs to think about it. There are benefits to killing off all of my remaining thyroid tissue but then there are the risks of RAI. He made a mention of people who have RAI later having a higher rate of recurrence. This I did not know. He made an allusion to my reading, which I thought was interesting because he didn't see especially disapproving. My reading has bothered him in the past, to say the least. But that was "before." Before I lost weight, before I lost the bad attitude, before I noticed what a ridiculous hottie he is and essentially became putty in his hands. But I digress. My meds were increased and he gave me a lab slip to test my TSH and my thyroglobin. We had a long discussion about antibodies and I told him that I had them done on my first TSH test and they were elevated. He dug it up and said that I was absolutely right and that was going to make things more difficult at first.

Why do they suddenly respect my intelligence so much? It's very odd. Dr. M has been less
than friendly in the past and definitely not cool at all and now suddenly he's cool and friendly?
Even when he did my biopsy he was jumpy as hell. He is so sexy. Gah. Damn older male authority figures!!!

The Butterfly is Released

On Monday morning, April 28th I checked into the hospital.  Dr. S was running ahead of schedule so they took me back shortly after 10am.  I laid down, told someone I was scared (because I was) and they told me everything would be fine.  The anesthesiologist came in and introduced himself, asked me a bunch of questions and then started the line in my left arm.  He gave me something to relax me and then it all started.  The oxygen mask was put on my face and out I went.

I woke up nearly three hours later in excruciating pain.   I heard, "she woke up too fast."  And "the i.v. line was malfunctioning."  I was crying, trying to tell them how much pain I was in while they struggled with my I.V.  They took it out of my elbow and tried to put it in my hand.  They didn't work too well.  Then they put it in the other hand and that worked better.  I was still crying, ow, ow, ow, ow.    They finally were able to give me pain meds and anti-nausea meds and I started to feel a little better.   When they wheeled me away to go up to my room, they took me by the cafeteria and I almost lost my cookies from the smells.  UGH!!!

Then I was moved into my room where I was hooked up to a saline i.v.  My voice wasn't too bad but I was in good amount of pain still.  I just laid there mostly, people came to see me, I had flowers delivered.  They tried to get me to eat and it was a liquid diet.  It was crap and I sent it all back.  My throat was in SO much pain, the inside of my throat from the tube, I imagine.  I could barely swallow water it hurt so bad.   They kept giving me pain meds (tylenol with codeine and dillaudid) and I was just laying there.

I was so glad when everyone had to leave.  I watched Sex and the City on TBS and tried to sleep. The night nurse was very sweet and she would pop in and take my vitals, ask me about pain, etc.  I didn't sleep much and by morning I was over it all.  Dr. S came to see me and asked how I was.  He told me he didn't think the cancer had spread and that everything looked good.  Then his assistant came in and admitted they had problems in the recovery room.  Then she said I could go home.  My calcium was a little low but not enough for them to give me calcium or to keep me any longer.  One of my favorite coworkers called and I burst into tears just because I was so over it all.

Dr. M never came to see me, which was fine.  I felt and looked so crappy I would have been embarassed if he had come, anyway.  

I was so happy to get home but still in so much pain!!  I cried a lot.  I didn't have any help.  But I did sleep.  Glorious sleep!

A Girl Needs a Gun These Days

Rattlesnakes

jodie wears a hat although it hasn't rained for six days
she says a girl needs a gun these days
hey, on account of those rattlesnakes
on account of those rattlesnakes

she looks like eve marie saint
in on the waterfront
she reads simone de beauvoir
in her american circumstance

she's less than sure if her heart
has come to stay in san jose
and her neverborn child haunts her now
as she speeds down the freeway


as she tries her luck with the traffic police
out of boredom more than spite
she never finds no trouble, she tries too hard
she's oblivious despite herself

she looks like eve marie saint
in on the waterfront, she says
all she needs is therapy
all you need is love is all you need

jodie never sleeps 'cause there are always needles in the hay
she says a girl needs a gun these days
hey, on account of the rattlesnakes
hey, on account of the rattlesnakes

she looks like eve marie saint
in on the waterfront
she reads simone de beauvoir
in her american circumstance

her heart's like crazy paving
upside down and back to front, she says
ooh, it's so hard to love when
love was your great disappointment


I had my thyroidectomy on Monday, April 28th.  I've been home since Tuesday morning.  It has been an experience, to say the least.  This song, "Rattlesnakes" is one of my favorites ever.  It was brought to me by Ms. Tori  Amos who covered it on her 2001 album "Strange Little Girls."  If I could sing right now, this is what I would sing.  I have currently  lost all upper ranges of my voice but I have faith I will get them back.

I will write out my entire thyroidectomy story later.