The Cancer Debacle

I'm pretty sure I'm using "Debacle" wrong in the title, but thats just the way I use the word. There was something else like that that Erin pointed out to me the other day -- and I didn't believe her so I called my momma to prove her wrong. I was wrong. Erin, what was that?

So last week we thought I had cancer. Thyroid cancer to be specific. Here's how it happened:

My psychiatrist decided to test my thyroid a few weeks ago. Every psychiatrist I've even had has thought I had an under active thyroid -- apparently my brand of crazy comes from an under active thyroid. I'm always sorry to disappoint them, but I let them run their little tests. As long as you give me my Klonopin, I'll do whatever you want. Test me! And she didn't just test my thyroid, she ran the gauntlet on me. I think her blood tests were more thorough than my yearly ones are, but hey, I'm all for getting checked out -- I have great insurance.

Of course this begs the question -- what the fuck is a psychiatrist gonna do about anything that might be wrong with your blood work anyway? So I had the blood work copied to my real doctor. So New Years Eve I went and had 8 vials of blood drawn. That in itself was an event -- but that's another story.

So A week later I'm at the ENT scheduling my tonsil removal (goodbye old friends). My doctors assistant calls. I have a hyperactive thyroid. The doctor will be calling me shortly. OK.

So I schedule my tonsils to be removed on the 19th. The ENT Doctor goes through all the questions I already answered in my paperwork and he comes to the thyroid question.

"Oh hey, I just found out I have a hyperactive thyroid -- sorry, they just called."

And apparently this is a very bad thing. The tonsil removal was called off and I was told that putting me under anesthesia would be very risky and there was no way he'd do it until my thyroid tested normal.

Dammit, I was looking forward to that week off.

So then my real doctor calls me. He wants me to have an ultra sound. Right now. Can I go and have one? Right now. Well shit, that doesn't sound good does it? So the hospital called me and scheduled my ultrasound for 5:15.

This gave me just enough time to google hyperactive thyroid and its causes. Apparently tumors are a cause. And my doc just ordered an emergency ultrasound -- well fuck.

So I go lay on a table in a dark dark room with my shoes off while I get my neck scanned for 40 minutes. It actually felt rather nice. The person doing the scanning apparently isn't allowed to tell me anything though. I asked. I had 40 minutes to harrass her, you know.

"So you really can't tell me? ... I promise I won't tell, come on. ... See anything? ... No? ... Why do you keep coming back to that spot? ... Oh come on, you can tell me, I won't sue."

I got nothing. And my doctor was closed the next day. I didn't hear back from the doctor for TWO WHOLE DAYS. Thats 2 days of maybe having cancer.

Not cancer. Or at least theres no suspicious bumps, bulges or growths on my thyroid. It is however, like my tonsils, enormously huge. He told me that there was a chance it would take care of itself, it could be treated with medicine, or maybe surgery and radiation. He asked me how bad I felt.

And by now I had looked up symptoms, right? Well I have a lot of them! Everyone who knows me knows that I'm hot natured. I can not get hot. If I get hot, I get nauseous and sick and pissy as hell. I keep my home at a nice 65-68 degrees. I provide blankets for company. Apparently heat intolerance is a biggy. If you're curious, I also have had really short and light periods for the last few months. Oh and my appetite is insane lately. So doc decided medicine should be started and we'd do blood work in 2 weeks to see if it's having any effect.

So he called in some prescriptions that my pharmacist refused to fill, but you can read that in my last post.

Anyway -- now I'm taking medicine that makes everything taste bitter and gives me a horrible stomach ache. Lame. And I might have to have radiation and/or surgery even though it's not cancer -- also lame. I'll let you know how it goes.

If I get an awesome neck scar, I'm telling everyone I got stabbed on the mean streets of Birmingham. Also I hope I can get my tonsils out soon -- I really want that week off.