I’m a cancer survivor

31 weeks pregnant with Callan – Photo by Sara’s Photography

Every story has its scars. And every scar has a story. Here’s one of mine…

It’s been more than five years since my cell phone rang at work. April 4, 2012. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be good news so I snuck into an empty conference room. My doctor had reviewed my latest biopsy results and told me, “It’s VERY likely you have cancer.” It doesn’t matter which type of cancer you’re facing or what your prognosis is, hearing those words is absolutely terrifying. I remember feeling the floor crumble below me, pulling me into a thick fog of shock and fear.

I had multiple nodules near my thyroid that had been monitored for years. And I had countless traumatizing biopsies (I can still feel the needle going through tissue and muscle in my neck) with the knowledge that if any of these nodules grew at any point in time, it may mean cancer. For many years I was in the clear, but this time it was different. I had my first surgery within a month. In May 2012, I had a partial thyroidectomy to remove half of my thyroid. I had a bad feeling and begged for them to remove the entire thyroid but due to guidelines –questionable at best – they couldn’t. Almost immediately I was plagued with complications. The incision itched incessantly and developed a white growth on it that turned out to be a severe allergy to surgical glue. Only a couple of days post-surgery, the doctor ripped the glue off in one fell swoop, leaving my yet-healed incision open. He nonchalantly said just don’t make any sudden movements. I was petrified to move for weeks.

When the results came back, they found papillary thyroid cancer. They gave me the option to keep my remaining thyroid intact and just monitor it with ultrasounds and biopsies, or have the rest removed. I felt like a walking time bomb so I opted to have the rest removed in August 2012. Because of my surgical glue allergy, they had to do sub-dermal sutures and cover the incision with a bandage. As soon as I woke up from anesthesia I was clawing at the bandage to get it off. I knew I was allergic to the adhesive on that too but knew it needed to stay covered. Medical staff didn’t believe me and finally at the surgical follow-up the doctor removed the bandage and yelled, “Oh my god – you’re allergic!!” My response? “No sh**. I’ve been telling you that for days.” I’ll spare you the nasty photo I took of just how traumatic the allergy was. The incision never quite healed right and developed into a keloid scar, thanks to the allergy and also the trauma of two surgeries in the same spot only three months apart. It’s faded a bit over time, even more since the photo above from nearly a year ago. But I never cared much – I wear it proud.

When the results from surgery #2 came back showing more cancer, I wasn’t surprised because I suspected that would be the case. This time, though, it was follicular thyroid cancer, which was slightly more aggressive and had nearly broken through into my bloodstream. Bottom line, I’m lucky I did the surgery and had everything removed when I did. In January 2013, I completed radioactive iodine treatment as the final stage, including a strict low-iodine diet for the weeks before and followed by a five-day quarantine.

I have been ‘clear’ for years, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a daily presence in my life. I still get annual thyroid ultrasounds and am currently waiting for my latest results. They’ll likely be fine, but as a cancer survivor you don’t believe it until you hear it. I still get bloodwork every 6-12 weeks. Soon, I’ll dive into the other complications I had and still live with five years out: loss of taste, the constant issue of regulating my thyroid levels, living with a dead parathyroid which means taking an obscene number of calcium pills a day…the list goes on.

But the truth is, I gladly take these complications on because it means I’m still here living and cancer-free. I could easily get bogged down by it all, but instead I choose to be grateful and recognize how lucky I am. I’m not blind to the sheer devastation cancer is capable of. In my immediate family alone, we’ve lost too many loved ones and watched too many fight valiantly. Cancer knows no bounds.

For now, I’ll leave you with this…

It’s incredible what one person can endure. What one person can survive. How much, and how drastically, things can change. I always say I’ve lived a lot of life for my age and that’s partly because 2012 was one of the hardest years of my life. Facing cancer was like being on a rollercoaster that was at times almost too scary to stay belted in. I’ve reached overwhelming lows but also remarkable highs. If you had asked me back then if I EVER imagined where I’d be right now, I would have called you crazy. My current life was never on my radar. But I’ve survived. I’ve grown. I’ve thrived, despite persistent battles and the toughest days I ever thought I’d face. I’m a better person for it all.

And quite honestly? I wholeheartedly believe that my battles have shaped me to be the exact Mama that Callan needs and will need as he grows – one with a fighting spirit who refuses to give up. One who is grateful for life every single day – even on the harder days. I already see some of these qualities in our boy and I’d like to think I have some small part in that.