My 23-Hour Stint, How To Deactivate a Pressure Bed, & Channeling Peter Brady

Of course, very little in life goes according to our plan, but it seems that I have done nothing but plan over the past two weeks in preparation for my ten days away from home.  I wanted to make sure that everyone was taken care of while I was away.  For the most part, I was worried about how the kids would react.  Surprisingly, as I write this on Day 4 away from them, they are doing just fine in my absence.  I decided that I wanted to do something special for them each day that I was away.  I purchased ten small gifts for each of them and placed them in labeled gift bags with the countdown day.  Along with each gift, I included a card for each child with one of the ten things I love most about them and a picture of us together.  From what The Husby tells me, this has been a hit with them and has worked as great motivation for them to get ready for bed in the evenings.  No bath, pajamas, and brushed teeth...no gift.  The power of bribery never ceases to amaze me.  It has made things easier for The Husby, The Fred, and StickyBun-Scotti to have my grandparents in town from Atlanta to help out.  They have taken care of StickyBun-Scotti during the day on two days that he was home with a cold, have handled all of the afternoon transportation for the kids, and have prepared all of their dinners.  They even watched both kids all day today since they were out for the holiday.  I am so thankful for them being there when we needed them, and it has made my absence much easier for the kids and The Husby.

Of course, I had arrived at the hospital around 8:45 for my 9:30 admission on Tuesday.  The Husby and StickyBun-Scotti, who was home with a cold, were with me.  After being admitted, I was taken by patient transport to my room on the Oncology Unit.  It was easy to pick out which room was saved for me...the one with the huge radioactive sign on the door.  When I walked in, I saw that most of the room was covered with blue chux pads.  I had to laugh.  I can't wrap a square box, so I can't imagine how you would begin to wrap a toilet.  I have to think that this is an art that takes a great deal of practice.  I'd be interested to know whose job description this falls under.  Food for thought.

After saying my tearful "goodbyes" to my boys, I sat waiting, patiently, for further instructions.  An hour went by without even a knock at the door, I was left to sit with the nothing more than the noise of the pressure ulcer bed, which is a story in itself.  I have to admit that I don't sleep well in general.  I am very sensitive to noise and movement.  I have had to sleep with ear plugs in my ears ever since StickyBun-Scotti was born and a good mattress is a splurge I can always justify.  If you know anything about pressure ulcer beds, you know that they are constantly moving, vibrating, and making noise.  I tried to tell myself that it would be okay.  I can stand anything for a few nights...right?

After two hours of waiting, a woman finally came in and introduced herself.  I knew that she worked there, but she gave me no clues as to who she was...nurse...patient care tech...not a clue.  She simply asked me when they were coming to give me my radioactive iodine.  Uhm?  Wouldn't she know more about that than I would?  I had plenty of questions...to which, she was able to provide no answers.  My most important question was about how to turn off the bed...to which she replied, "You can't."  Fabulous.  Instead, she told me to ask nuclear medicine any questions when they came to see me.  She simply gave me instructions to change into a gown and have a seat on the bed.  So, I sat and waited...and waited...and waited...with nothing but the air compressor noise from the bed and the constant vibrating movement.  At this point, I was ready to push the bed out of the window.  If you work in a hospital, you know that the beds can't be simply unplugged from the wall because they are hooked up to the nurse call system.  An unplugged bed will constantly call to the nurses' station.  I had to think fast, or this was going to be a long three days.

I had brought my phone in the bag that had my clothes to wear home, so I quickly downloaded the user manual for this type of bed.  I knew that there had to be a way to turn the thing off without unplugging it.  Of course, it can be done.  I memorized all of the steps to deactivate the bed and snapped a quick pic of my blue chux covered paradise before returning the phone to my bag.  Crisis averted!

At 1:00 that afternoon, an RN came in to draw some blood to make sure I wasn't pregnant.  No answers from her either.  At 2:45 that afternoon, nuclear medicine arrived at my room.  The doctor briefed me on the rules: stay in the bed behind the lead shields surrounding the bed unless you are going to the bathroom, don't step off of the chux lined path surrounding the bed and leading to the bathroom, drink lots of water, and you can go home when your radioactive level is at 5.  The more water you drink, the lower your level will be, and the sooner you can leave.  Simple enough, right?  I thought so.

My first low-iodine meal in isolation made me laugh...canned English peas, cooked carrots, white rice, and a slice of turkey.  This was funny to The Husby because I love vegetables, with the exception of two things...you guessed it, canned English peas and cooked carrots.  Not a good start to the culinary experience.  Let's just say that the hospital where I work serves five-star gourmet fare compared to this place...no comparison.

In an effort to make the stay as short as possible, I started drinking water constantly.  I told myself that I would drink a minimum of 10 ounces of fluid each hour and increase that to account for hours that I may be sleeping.  At 6:00 that evening my radioactive level was 26, and they told me that they would check my level again around 8:00 the next morning.  My wonderful endocrinologist came by after leaving his office to check on me.  A gesture that I thought was very kind.  The rest of the evening was uneventful.  I deactivated my bed in hopes of getting some sleep...willing to trade sleeping on a loud, moving bed for a metal slab that is the product of a deflated/deactivated pressure bed.  A trade that I would gladly make again.  Someone would come in every 4 hours to check my vitals and peer at me for a split second over the lead shields.  That was all.  I slept in 2 hour increments and drank water every time I woke up.  By the next morning, my neck was very sore, and I was nauseous.  I took a hot shower and waited patiently for nuclear medicine.

When I was measured by nuclear medicine at 8:00 my level was at 10.  Soon after, my endocrinologist stopped back by to check on me before he started seeing patients for the day.  I shared the good news, and he went ahead and wrote my discharge prescriptions.  By my calculations, if I continued to consume fluid at the same rate, my body should be at 5 or below by my next check after lunch.  At 1:30, nuclear medicine returned and my level had dropped to a 3...woohoo!!!  Escape!!!  I was out of there within an hour.  I have to believe that 23-hours is some kind of record since they were planning on me sticking around for 3 days.  If there was anything that I learned during my hospital stay, it was that hospital food is not good, I don't like being confined to a bed for hours on end, I really don't like drinking water, you can find a user manual for just about anything on the internet, and CSI and NCIS come on at least one channel at any given time during the day and night.

My first day out was pretty exciting because I was discharged with the instructions to resume a regular diet...hallelujah!  Unfortunately, I was so nauseous that nothing sounded good.  I drove myself to Montgomery, and by the time I got there, I had decided that Pizza Hut would hit the spot...it did.  When I woke up Thursday morning, I was shocked by how awful I felt.  My neck had become so swollen that I look like I have mumps.  It is difficult to swallow and difficult to breathe when I lay on my back.  My vocal chords are so irritated that I sound like a pubescent Peter Brady every time I try to talk.  I'm still nauseous...very, very nauseous...which makes the excitement over being able to eat whatever I want not quite as exciting.  I miss my kids.  I miss my husband.  I'm over all of this.

My follow-up scan has been scheduled for the day before Thanksgiving, so I hope to have the results sometime around the beginning of the next week.  I tried to share all of the humor in all of this so that I don't sound like such a "Debbie Downer," but I really am over it.

Hey, Cancer, it's time for you to plan your exit strategy.

Until next time, I love and miss you all!  Great big hugs and kisses!

Love- K

A New Man (Doctor) and The Plan

Yesterday, I went to see my new doctor...he is wonderful!  When I arrived at his office, I didn't even have to wait.  He spent an hour and a half...let me repeat that, an hour and a half...in the room with me.  He completed a very thorough health history for me and my immediate family.  Then, we discussed treatment options.  Finally, he completed a head-to-toe assessment.  When I say "head-to-toe assessment," I mean the type that they teach you in nursing school.  All of my nurse friends will understand this...tactile fremitus, respiratory excursion, abdominal percussion, listening for 60 seconds at the PMI...all of this was included.  I was impressed to say the least.  I even managed to walk out of his office with samples of a new prescription for my migraines...something I have not taken anything but OTC drugs for in years because I hate the side effects of the traditional drugs.  He was quick to suggest something without any side effects...I like it.  Only downside to this drug is that it is mixed with a small amount of water before you drink it, and it is flavored with anise (my family will understand why this is a negative). I digress.

Inpatient treatment is scheduled for November 8th...lucky for me, this is the first day that I am eligible for FMLA.  We made the decision to be aggressive with treatment, so I am being treated with a high dose of I-131.  The doctor made me laugh when he let me know that he was using the term "inpatient" very loosely.  Basically, they will take me into a room, give me the I-131, and leave me there for 3 days.  I can call if I need something, but otherwise, there will be limited interaction.  Anything that I bring with me has to stay in the room because it will become radioactive.  If I could take my laptop, at least I could work on school.  Instead, I will be reading, watching TV, and sleeping.  Not too bad. 

The only negative is that I am really feeling the effects of the hypothyroidism at this point...extreme fatigue, muscle aches, dry skin...you get the picture.  It is making the 12-hour shifts close to unbearable, but I am trying my best to keep up the positive attitude and the smile on my face...whatever will get me through the day.  It could be worse...right?

In preparation for the radioactive iodine treatment, I have to follow a very strict low-iodine diet.  I will follow this diet until after treatment and my follow-up scan.  As someone that eats very little beef, chicken, and pork, I get most of my protein from fish, eggs, soy, dairy, nuts, and beans.  This diet does not fit with this style of eating.  I can't have anything that comes from the sea, no eggs, no dairy, no packaged or processed food, no soy, and no baked goods (including bread).  Basically, nothing that contains iodine or salt.  I can have raw unprocessed nuts and beans prepared from dry.  I can have fresh fruits and vegetables, 4 servings of grains per day (unprocessed), honey, maple syrup, vinegar, 6 ounces of meat per day, oils, and fresh herbs and spices.  As you know, I love to cook, so this diet makes me want to cry.  For breakfast, I ate 2 salt-free Kosher rice cakes with unsalted and unsweetened peanut and flax seed spread with honey, an apple, and a clementine.  For lunch, I am having a half cup of orzo mixed with two cups of spinach, dried cranberries, white balsamic vinegar, olive oil, green onion, and black pepper.  Concord grapes and raspberries are my afternoon snack.  Not a clue as to what I will eat for dinner.  I am going to have to come up with some more salty foods that I can prepare because sweets are not that appealing to me.  The fact that I can use non-iodized salt is a plus.  Now, if only I could find someone to bake me some bread.  I am not a baker, and I would pay someone to bake bread for me.  I have some approved recipes...any takers?

So, that's the update! Until next time, I love you all!

Love- K

By Popular Demand: Roasted Pumpkin Seeds

It is no secret to anyone that I love salty snacks!  You can keep the cake, cookies, and ice cream.  I crave salty and crunchy.  With everyone carving their pumpkins around this time of the year, I have had several people ask me if I have a recipe for roasting pumpkin seeds.  No surprise, of course, I do!  This salty snack is as easy as it gets, and kids will love helping out.  I find that their little fingers are perfect for sorting through the pulp to find the seeds.

Roasted Pumpkin Seeds

1) Preheat oven to 300 degrees F.
2) Separate the pumpkin seeds from the pulp and rinse the seeds in a colander.  Shake off the excess water.
3) Oil a baking sheet.  Spread the seeds in a single layer on the sheet.  Roast in the oven for 30 minutes to dry out the seeds.
4) Remove the seeds from the oven and toss with olive oil, salt, and pepper (or additional spice flavors).  Return to the oven and bake an additional 20 minutes, until crisp and golden.  Enjoy!

Here are some yummy flavor combinations that I found in Food Network Magazine this year:

Sweet
Toss with cinnamon and sugar (do not use salt in step 4).

Indian
Toss with garam masala; mix with currants after roasting.

Spanish
Toss with smoked paprika; mix with slivered almonds after roasting.

Italian
Toss with grated parmesan and dried oregano.

Barbecue
Toss with brown sugar, chipotle chile powder and ground cumin.

Surprises, Smiles, and Sinking Ships

So much has gone on in the past month that I have a hard time remembering it all thanks to my perpetual "brain fog"...and yes, that is actually the terminology used by physicians to describe the foggy feeling that goes along with the hypothyroid state...add that to my "mommy brain," and you get some serious forgetfulness.  It's a good thing I write everything down.  I am going to try to recap the past couple of weeks, but I am sure I will leave some things out along the way.

The Husby and I celebrated our wedding anniversary last week...5 years married, and our first date was around the same time 15 years ago.  It's crazy to think that we have known each other for that long, and to me, it doesn't seem like we have been married for 5 years...The Husby says it seems much longer...ha!  When we first married, The Husby had recently purchased a jet ski...one of his prized possessions. But with kids and the busyness of life in general, the jet ski was rarely used.  Eventually, the decision was made to sell it, and I could tell that The Husby was heartbroken.  For this anniversary, I wanted to do something really special.  We all love to fish, and The Husby has wanted to purchase a boat for years.  What better present could there be than a brand new fishing boat?

I am awful at keeping secrets from The Husby, so the fact that this remained a secret over the 3-month process of purchasing this boat is a miracle.  I have never been so nervous and excited...not since I was a little kid waiting for Christmas morning.  I woke up at 4 am the morning I was supposed to go pick-up the boat and laid in bed wide awake until 6 am.  I led The Husby to believe I was getting up to hit an early bird sale where I was shopping for some new dress pants for him as an anniversary present...boring, huh?  I'm sure he was less than thrilled by the sentiment.  Instead, I drove out to the Bass Pro Shop where I was picking up the new boat. 

When I returned home with the boat, I pulled up in front of the house.  I went inside to surprise him.  Unexpectedly, I broke down and started crying while I was telling him how much I love and appreciate him.  I handed him the keys to the boat and he said, "What's this?"  I told him to go look out in front of the house.  When he stepped outside, I could see that he was so excited.  He and StickyBun-Scotti went bounding down the stairs to check out the boat.  We decided that it would be best if he familiarized himself with the boat and the manual before we took it to the lake, so the plan was to go to the lake the next day.

There were two things that the mechanic at the Bass Pro Shop told me I needed to make sure I kept track of...the boat keys and the bilge plug.  I handed both of them over to The Husby, and he made sure that the bilge plug was inserted before we went to the lake.  When we arrived at the lake, we backed the boat into the water.  The Husby drove the boat over to the dock while I pulled the trailer into the parking lot.  When I got down to the dock, I helped StickyBun-Scotti get onto the boat, but then I noticed that the back of the boat seemed to be taking on water...all I could hear was "glug, glug, glug." I looked at The Husby and said, "Something is not right.  We need to get the boat out of the water."  I quickly grabbed StickyBun-Scotti, and The Husby ran to get the trailer.  Luckily, a few men standing nearby, after docking their boat, saw the panicked look on my face and came over to help.  They helped us get the boat out of the water and onto the trailer.  It turns out that The Husby had inserted the bilge plug into the livewell water uptake hole instead of the hole on the other rear side of the boat.  He was inadvertently sinking his new boat.  We couldn't do anything but laugh at this point.  After all of the water drained, we had an enjoyable day of fishing on Lay Lake.  I told The Husby that I could not imagine calling the insurance company and having to say, "Hi, you know the new boat that I bought on Saturday?  Well, we sunk it on Sunday."  Thank goodness, that was a call I did not have to make.

So, now for the health update...I have been feeling pretty bad over the past few weeks...both physically and emotionally.  I have consistently run a fever between 99.6 and 101 for the past 4 weeks, but I have no other symptoms besides the usual ones that go along with being hypothyroid.  I have an appointment with my new endocrinologist on Wednesday to draw my labs and schedule my treatment.  I am very excited to meet with this new doctor, and I think that he is going to be wonderful based on the feedback from others. 

I will update after the appointment on Wednesday!  Until then, I love you all!

Love- K

Life On Cruise Control

I have officially reached Day 3 of 4 for the work week, and I feel my body losing its gusto.  As bad as I am feeling, I have to admit, it beats sitting in a house, alone, all day.  I love the people I work with...I feed off of their energy...they make me smile...they make me laugh...they lift my spirits...and that counts for a whole lot these days.  I know that these are people that I can always count on for anything, and for that, I am very grateful.  Slowly, but surely, I feel like I am getting my groove back at work, with the help of my wonderful co-workers.  If it wasn't for them, this could be something I would dread getting up for in the mornings.  Because of them, my days are better and brighter.  

Overall, it has been a really good week.  I celebrated my 30th birthday on Wednesday!  Unfortunately, we ended up doing a "day late" celebration on Thursday because I was sick with a stomach bug on my actual birthday, but I have no complaints...it was still wonderful.  I think that a lot of people dread their 30th birthday, but I feel like I am finally at a point in my life where I am comfortable...career, children, marriage, finances...everything comfortable enough that my stress level is significantly lower than it has ever been, and I feel like life is on cruise control.  If this is what my 30's is all about...I like it!

Love- K

Can't Carry a Tune

Prior to surgery, Dr. Best let me know that there may be some side effects associated with surgery.  Because the vocal chords are manipulated during surgery, changes to the voice can occur that may be temporary or can turn out to be permanent.  For me, the changes have been pretty noticeable.  My voice is not as strong as it was before, and it takes a lot more effort for me to speak at higher volumes.  One thing that my husband and children love is that I can no longer yell.  Yep, that's right, not at all.  I can't get my kids attention if I try.  Which is kind of nice, because now, I don't even try to yell.  Another noticeable change is that I can't sing anymore...can't carry a tune in a bucket.  I'm not saying that I was some incredible singer to begin with, but I could sing...as only my show choir and musical theater peeps would know.  Now, I need Songify just to sing along with the radio.  It is awful...flat, tone deaf awful.  It makes me laugh.  I'm starting to think that my kids and The Husby are reaping the benefits here...no yelling and no singing.

All is well, I am feeling okay.  The best way to describe how I feel is "like I am nine months pregnant."  Everything is exhausting, my muscles hurt, my joints hurt, and my brain is foggy.  Hopefully, all of this will go away after I complete treatment, and they begin supplementing me with T4.  Right now, all I am getting is T3, and it just doesn't seem to be doing the whole job.  I will start treatment sometime in November.  My appointment with the endocrinologist is on November 7th.  After meeting with him, I will be taken off of all supplementation and start a special diet for two weeks before treatment.  Once I start the radioactive iodine treatment, I will be admitted to the hospital for three days before I can be discharged.  I won't be able to return home for almost 2 weeks following the start of treatment since I can't be around women of child-bearing age or children.  That will probably be the hardest part...going without seeing my babies for so long.  It makes me sad to even think about it.  The Husby asked me if I was going to glow in the dark since I would be radioactive...he always knows how to take my mind off of the sadder things by making me laugh.

I start back to work tomorrow, and I am worried about having the stamina to push through from morning until night.  Please send those energy vibes my way this week...I am going to need them.  Until next time, I love you all.

xoxoxo- K

Thyroid Cancer Awareness Month

Did you know that September is national "Thyroid Cancer Awareness" month?  That's okay...I didn't either.  It's funny the kind of things you become aware of when they affect you personally.  I have had a lot of people ask me if I knew that something was wrong with me when I went to the doctor.  The short answer is..."no."  Over the past few months, I had felt as if I had a lump in my throat when I swallowed, and my voice would become very hoarse if I talked for an extended amount of time.  All of these symptoms were things that I attributed to allergies and post-nasal drip, so I wasn't too concerned.  I hope that, if nothing else, this will be a learning experience for others.  Of all of the times I have seen a physician over the past five years, I can only think of two times where the physician actually palpated my thyroid.  The lesson to be learned here is that we should be proactive and ask our physicians to check our neck at our annual wellness visits.  Thyroid cancer is the fastest growing cancer among women...it's Thyroid Cancer Awareness month...please ask your doctor to check your neck.

For more information, check out the Light of Life Foundation at checkyourneck.com.

A Hand To Hold

The night before my second surgery, I barely slept at all.  I would fall asleep for 15 minute bursts followed by waking up in a panic.  I just couldn't get my brain to turn off.  At about 3 am, I fell asleep long enough to have a very vivid dream.

In my dream, I was sitting in a pre-op room, waiting to go into surgery, and sobbing uncontrollably.  None of the strangers in the room were able to comfort me.  I looked up at one point and saw a familiar face walking down the hall towards me...a friend...swooping in to rescue me.  She walked in dressed in surgical scrubs, shooed everyone else out of the room, sat on the edge of the bed next to me, held my hand, told me it was all going to be okay, and then, gave me some good medicine to help me relax...then, I woke up again.  This time, I had a smile on my face.

I had to smile because, for me, I know that this friend is filed away in my brain under the label "calming nurturer."  This friend lives many, many miles away, and unfortunately, I have not seen her in years, but we have stayed connected thanks to the marvels of modern technology.  I had to share my dream with her.

Little did I know, but the night of my dream, she had been praying for me along with a list of several others.  She had asked that our pain and suffering be relieved and that our loads would be lightened.  We were both happy to know that those prayers had been heard.  I told her that sometimes all we need is a hand to hold.

Over the past couple of days, I have gotten more hands to hold via email from others, thanks to my wonderful friend.  They have put a smile on my face, made my heart feel happy, and put my mind at ease.  It's good for the soul to have friends like that.

Cancer...Really?

I must say that I was really holding out hope for a miracle.  You know how you sometimes have that gut feeling that something just isn't right?  In nursing, we are taught to always act when our gut tells us that something "just isn't right."  My gut has been telling me this for a while now...just a different feeling that I have had over the past few weeks...nothing ominous...just a little bit different from the norm.

The first surgery, on Monday, went very well.  They removed the right side of my thyroid, the tumor, and 2 lymph nodes.  Thank God for excellent nurses!  I am also very thankful for my CRNA that was kind enough to whip some good drugs out of his pocket (funny how they always just have this stuff in their pockets...anyone that has had surgery or works in healthcare knows what I am talking about) to calm my fears (and my stomach).  I am eternally grateful.  After surgery, I was comfortable enough to go home and get in my bed. There is something about being in your own bed that has a healing effect.  My cold, dark room is like my own personal wellness retreat.

I was scheduled for my follow-up appointment on Thursday morning.  Husby went with me to see Dr. Best, and after checking out my Texas Chainsaw massacre incision (just in time for Halloween, might I add) and taking a look at my vocal chords, Dr. Best got that look on his face.  You know the look....the "OMG, I really don't want to tell you the bad news" look.  The news was to let us know that the cancer diagnosis was confirmed and the tumor was a follicular variant papillary carcinoma with extension and lymph node metastasis.  The other news was to let m know that I would need to have completion surgery on Monday...same time, same place.

They went ahead and did staging, so the cancer is T3N1a follicular variant papillary carcinoma, which is Stage III.  Because I am under 45 years old, they usually like to stage better than they would for someone over 45 years old, so for age reasons, they can call me Stage I or II.  After the second surgery, I will have a few weeks before I start treatment to prep my body for the radioactive iodine treatment.  

As D-Daddy would say, "Are we having fun yet?"  Really, I am okay.  I know that is hard to believe, but I am.  I just want my family to be okay.  I am trying to keep as much normalcy in our lives as I can, and with the help of friends and family, that has been possible.  I am still optimistic, and I know that I will be okay.  Thank you to everyone for all of the food, prayers, and kind words...you all mean more to me than you know.  

Until next time...I love you!

xoxoxox

-K

The Plan...Well, Sort Of

I finally had my appointment on Thursday with the ENT surgeon (aka Dr. Best).  I was feeling great about him being my surgeon after several recommendations from patients and reading every journal article of his research (sometimes PubMed access only feeds my neuroticism).  He was even featured in an MD News article that was on the home page of our intranet site at work on Wednesday.  All signs (big flashing signs) were pointing to "yes" for him to be the surgeon of choice.

Besides the fact that Dr. Best is (you guessed it) the best at what he does, he is also my kind of person...a serial optimist.  He was very straight-forward and matter-of-fact in our conversation, and he said that he approaches everything as a best-case scenario.  I like it.

(Side note: When I arrived for my appointment they checked my vital signs, heart rate 128 and BP 138/87...anxious much?  I think so.  It was laughable.  The nurse said, "You know that nurses make the worst patients because we know too much going into the appointment."  Agreed.)

So here's the plan...

The surgery is scheduled for September 12th.  It will be performed as an outpatient procedure, and if all goes as planned, I will be home snug in my bed by late afternoon.  The plan is to perform a right thyroid lobectomy.  Cryo-pathology will be performed in the OR, and if the architecture confirms malignancy, they will remove the other half while I am still in the OR.  I went ahead and signed consents for everything they could possibly need to do while they are in there.  Since Dr. Best uses minimally-invasive techniques, I am looking at only a 2.5-3 cm scar and a much quicker recovery.  I should even be back to work in 2 weeks or less.  Once again, I like it.  So, I call it a "sort of" plan because so much of it will be a "game time" decision.

When discussing possible side-effects, Dr. Best explained that a temporary loss of voice was normal and that I may not be able to speak above a whisper for up to two weeks.  I told him that my husband and kids might like that.

So that's the plan!

-K

Putting Together a Plan

I tend to brag about UAB hospital to others.  The fact that I work there plays into the equation, but I honestly believe that this institution is at the top of the list when it comes to cutting edge research and some of the most gifted healthcare professionals in the nation.  Of course, like most of us these days, I embarked on a Google quest to find the best ENT surgeon out there to perform my surgery.  Lucky for me, one of the most notable surgeons just happens to work for UAB, and I was able to get an appointment for next Thursday to discuss the surgery and do some more lab work.  

All of this is really starting to sink in, and I have to admit that I had not felt much more than numbness and a whirlwind of thoughts until last night.  After the kids were in bed, I was moving through my usual bedtime routine.  When I finished brushing my teeth, I turned around and saw that The Husby was laying on the bed watching me.  He held out his arms for a hug, and I collapsed next to him in tears.  He always seems to know exactly what I need, and this was exactly what I needed.  

Trying to explain all of this to my kids has been difficult because I don't really know what to say.  StickyBun-Scotti is oblivious to it all for the most part, which is fine by me.  The Fred is a different story.  She is a listener.  She overhears a conversation and comes up with a million questions.  I have tried to be very honest and direct in answering her questions, but I'm not sure that she understands.  I laughingly joked with Aunt AllyCat yesterday about how I was sure that someone had written a children's book for this kind of thing.  Sometimes, I just feel like I need an instruction manual.  

Hopefully, I will walk away from the appointment with the doctor next week with a plan for the coming months.  All of this waiting is in opposition to my desire to be in control, but I am going to be patient.  Until then, love and hugs to you all!

Love- K

Time To Start Blogging Again

I was thrilled when I received my acceptance letter for school last month, but of course, with any new program, there are a variety of hoops that you must jump through before you are officially “in.”  One of those obligatory “hoops” just happened to be a physical exam.  I was less than pleased by this requirement after having just seen my primary care physician, my OB/Gyn, and employee health for wellness visits within the past six months and been given the “all clear.”  I continued to drag my heels about meeting this requirement, but finally, I scheduled an appointment with student health services.  If only I had known what a blessing this would end up being.

At my scheduled appointment, the physician asked if I had been diagnosed with any thyroid problems because my thyroid appeared to be enlarged.  Following some lab work, I was referred for an ultrasound.  After the ultrasound, the decision was made to biopsy (deserving of another story in itself).  For seven days, I agonized over what the results may be.  Late this afternoon, I finally received the phone call. 

Luckily, I had enough sense to grab a pen and paper and write as I talked to the physician.  The next few minutes of conversation were riddled with words I wasn’t planning to hear…”atypical nuclei….suspicious for malignancy…refer for treatment.”  What?  Cancer? 

Now, I have joked that the year I turned 30 was going to be a big year for me, but this was not exactly what I had in mind.  The serial optimist in me believes that everything is part of a larger plan and even good things can come out of things that are bad.  Luckily, I have wonderful family and wonderful friends that I know will be with me every step of the way.  The next step is to meet with the ENT to discuss a plan.  Until then, channel those prayers and good vibes in my direction.  I will keep you posted.  

xoxoxoxoxo

Love- K