Biopsy Results and Plan

Boo! Hahaha, I had fun looking through my CT scan images and took this screenshot because it looked pretty creepy (those eyeballs!).

I realize how uncool it was to post about my biopsy and then take two weeks to share the results! I felt like the results took forever. Since the biopsy was on Friday, I hoped the results would be available on Monday; Tuesday at the latest. Usually, labs and tests are uploaded to my chart online within 24 hours or so.

By Wednesday, I still didn't have the results. I called the ENT doc who'd ordered the biopsy and was told that the doctor wanted to go over them in person. And that he was going to be out for a week, so the earliest available appointment would be on the 22nd! Hearing that, of course, I prepared myself for bad news. 

Meanwhile, I had been jumping through all the hoops to get an appointment at the University of Michigan medical center, which is very difficult to get into; it's a huge teaching hospital. (The woman from scheduling that I spoke with even had my biopsy results but wasn't allowed to give them to me.) I asked my primary care doctor to fax my referral and records (I was shocked that people still fax things...) and she did it right away. Then I had to wait for the scheduler to call me to set the appointment with the ENT (otolaryngology; "ear/nose/throat") department. I finally got an appointment for the 24th (yesterday). 

I was still waiting on test results, and I just couldn't wait anymore. I don't know why I didn't ask in the first place, but I contacted my primary care doc again and asked if she had the results and was she able to upload them. Within an hour, they were in my chart. (My doctor is the BEST at doing everything quickly.)

Anyway, the result was that my mass is benign! Which is obviously great news. Still, however, this mass is causing me a lot of discomfort--especially after the biopsy. The biopsy made my symptoms much worse and I've been super irritable. I constantly feel like my shirt is choking me, but when I reach to pull the collar from my neck, it's not there--it's just this mass that is causing the strangling feeling.

The CT that was taken in the emergency room the day of my biopsy showed that the mass had increased by about a centimeter (it was about 5.5 and now it's about 6.5 cm--that's *very* large). Since I had the appointment at U of M, I had access to their patient portal. My CT scan was in there, and I was totally fascinated looking through the images. It's like watching a video traveling through your body, looking at one plane at a time, and there are images from several directions--traveling from the front of my face to the back of my head, and from each side traveling through to the other side, and even starting at my lungs, moving up to the top of my head. You can see everything in 3D.)

Based on the doctor's notes and the images, it showed that my trachea and esophagus were being pushed to the side due to the mass pressing against them--this is why I have difficulty swallowing and what is causing the strangling feeling. It's pushing my carotid artery toward my back. It's even touching my spine, and goes down past my clavicle (collar bone). Needles to say, it's very big. I knew it would need to come out, but I was hoping that I could save my right thyroid in order to *try to* avoid needing hormone replacement medication for the rest of my life.

*I may still need it, it will depend on my thyroid function after surgery*

Here is an image that shows from the front to the back--the red line is my airway, which should be straight up and down. And the blue circles the mass itself.

CT of thyroid mass, circled in blue

My appointment at U of M yesterday did not start out well. I know most people will think this is shallow, but I've written before about how I am having such a hard time with showing signs of aging. You may remember when, in 2018(?), Jerry and I went to the lab for him to have his blood drawn and I was with him. I sat down in the waiting room and he went up to the counter to check in. The woman there saw his license/birthdate and exclaimed how young he looked and said these words which still haunt me: "I thought that was your mother with you!"

Up until that moment, I never thought of myself as looking old. But that triggered something inside of me that made me notice everything about myself that is showing signs of aging. Do I really look like I could be 60-ish+ years old?! Even if Jerry looked MUCH younger--let's say 30 (he's 44)--that would mean I'd have to look roughly 50 (today I turned 43). I started to feel extremely self-conscious of my age at that point, even though I never cared at all before. Isn't it stupid how one single comment from someone has the power to do that? Most people would probably laugh about it, but it had the opposite effect on me.

Anyway, back to my appointment yesterday. The medical assistant brought us back to weigh me and get my blood pressure. He asked me, "Is this your son with you?"

My face got really hot and my ears immediately started ringing. I was so flustered I couldn't even answer him, and Jerry, knowing I was crushed, helped alleviate the awkwardness I felt by making a joke about the fountain of youth or something. The medical assistant asked for my birthday and when I told him, he said, "Happy early birthday!". I said, in what I hoped came off as nonchalant, "Thanks, but I'm suddenly feeling very old". I kind of wanted to hint to him that instead of asking if it was my son, just ask who is with me today or something like that. 

I thought he would apologize, but he didn't catch on. I can remember being (relatively) young and never understanding why age was such a touchy subject for women. When I worked at Curves in my 20's, most of the women were in the 40 to 60-ish age range and frequently talked about aging--I just didn't get it. I never thought I would care about aging! And I honestly wouldn't mind it, if I thought I looked my age--43--but 60+?! That's hard to swallow. (Quite literally right now, haha). When it was just one person who mentioned it, it could be written off as a one-off unintentionally rude comment; but when two people say it, well... 

Okay, enough of that. I was pleasantly surprised at the minimal wait time, which was awesome. The ENT doctor was highly recommended by my cousin, who is a nurse practitioner there, and she was everything I hoped. She was extremely friendly and patient, taking the time to answer my questions and explain everything really well. An anesthesiology med student was with her and he was just as great.

They had to scope my throat, which wasn't fun (at the previous ENT doc's office, they did it as well). They put a long, thin, flexible tube with a camera on one end, through my nose and down my throat to look at my vocal cords. It literally feels like a COVID test, only like pushing the swab all the way through to stab your brain. Then it felt like I had a pill stuck in my throat. But my vocal cords aren't damaged; the change in my voice is likely because my trachea (airway) is being pushed aside by the mass on my thyroid. (My voice has gotten kind of raspy and it's a strain to talk.)

They agreed that the mass should come out, and the doctor explained the surgery to me. It's under general anesthesia, which is more complicated than the IV sedation I had recently for my tooth extraction, but I've been under three times before--for my two jaw repair surgeries and for my skin removal surgery--so I'm not too worried about it. The scariest part is that they are going to be working in a very critical area of my body--around my airway, my esophagus, my carotid arteries, jugular veins, and vocal cords--and there are risks with that. But the ENT doctor is the one who will be performing the surgery and I feel very confident in her.

When I was super nervous about the general anesthesia before getting my jaw repair, my surgeon (who was an ENT doc) told me this: If you're worried about your airway during surgery, the best team you can have with you is an ENT team. So that's comforting! Haha.

The surgery sounds very straight-forward and I'll be allowed to leave the same day (she said three hours or so). For a week post-op, I need to rest, not lift anything over 10 pounds, eat soft foods for a couple of days, and that's about it. There is a lot of follow-up lab work to see if my thyroid hormones tank. They are completely normal right now, so I am hoping my right thyroid will do just fine when the left is gone. The ENT doc said that it happens in about half of patients with this procedure.

Now, I just have to wait for a call from the scheduler to get a date for surgery. The doctor said that since it's not cancer, I don't have to do it right away--just whenever it's convenient for me--but I'm going to take the first available date. My symptoms are driving me crazy, especially since my biopsy.

Haha! Speaking of, after my biopsy I was told that I "might have a small bruise that should go away on its own in a couple of days". It is now 15 days later, and this is what it looks like:

Aside from the bruise, though, the lump is very noticeable in my neck. It wasn't like this before the biopsy. This mass grew SO quickly. I noticed sometime in the summer--I think August--that my neck looked a bit bigger in front. I forgot about it when I got COVID, and then the headache that lasted two months, and the process that led to my tooth extraction.

It was still barely noticeable in December, but now there is no way you can miss it. I'm worried it'll continue to grow at this rate. I'm thrilled that it's not cancer, even though I knew I'd be having surgery either way, but it's so uncomfortable--I can't wait for it to be gone!

Continue Reading...

Thyroid Biopsy

[If you didn't read my last post, regarding my thyroid, you'll want to read that first.]

My needle biopsy for my thyroid was on Friday. I wasn't dreading it--I was actually looking forward to it, so I can get all of this over with as quickly as possible. And because I am the type of person that wants to know everything I can expect going into something, I read as much as I could about it ahead of time.

Essentially, the doctor inserts several small needles (one by one) into the mass, which collect samples to send to the lab. Sounds simple enough. Not pleasant, but it's not like having surgery.

Jerry wanted to go with me, so we went to the hospital's radiology department. It's done in radiology because a tech uses an ultrasound for the doctor to be able to see where to guide the needle during the procedure.

First, the tech did the usual ultrasound to get pictures of the mass (again). It took a little while for the doctor to come in--the tech called someone a couple of times on the phone, asking if so-and-so was available for a biopsy. I should have seen that as a red flag (and my intuition was definitely telling me so, but it being my first time for something like this, I just assumed everything was normal).

Finally, a physician assistant (PA) came in and started prepping my neck. I had to lie on my back with my head tilted back, a pillow under my neck. After everything was prepped, she injected lidocaine to numb the spot that she would be inserting the needles. The lidocaine was definitely the most painful part. I'm not at all afraid of needles, but I wasn't expecting the lidocaine to burn so much. After that, though, I didn't feel much at all.

The PA took the first needle and inserted it into the mass. Then she moved it all over--if you've ever seen how liposuction is done, it's like that--about 20 times. Pulled it out, got a new needle, and repeated that five times. After the last one, she put a gauze pad on my neck and left the room for the tech to bandage me up.

The tech was about to replace the gauze with a bandaid and when she lifted the gauze, she immediately pressed it back down and said something like, "Oh! You have a pretty big hematoma." She told me to hold pressure with the gauze, as much pressure as I could without choking myself. I did that for about five minutes, and asked her some questions in the meantime.

[Side note: A hematoma is where blood pools in a space outside of a blood vessel, but since there is no opening for it to come out, it just sort of collects in the location, forming a lump.]

She had seemed a little alarmed by the size of it, which made me nervous. I asked her if that happens often and she said something like, "Not too often, but it happens and it will be fine." I just needed to hold pressure and ice it for 20 minutes every hour. She replaced the gauze with a bandaid and then gave me an ice pack for the ride home.

Over all, it wasn't a bad experience. It wasn't fun, but it wasn't painful (other than the lidocaine shot). When I got home, I was STUNNED when I looked in the mirror. The lump on my neck was huge. This made me really nervous, so I googled it. And naturally, that gave me even more anxiety about it. It said that having a hematoma in that location is serious because it can press against your esophagus and trachea (the tubes for eating and breathing, respectively).

Hematoma after thyroid biopsy

I'd already had difficulty swallowing (that was the main symptom of the large mass in the first place), but I noticed that it had definitely gotten worse since the biopsy. I had a hard time deciphering whether it was also affecting my breathing as well, but the best way I can describe the feeling is like wearing a very tight turtleneck. I kept reaching up to pull my shirt away from my neck, only to realize my shirt wasn't there--it just felt like it.

Since the tech said it was fine, I just trusted that she knew what she was doing. I sent a picture of it to my sister, basically to show her the size of this hematoma. I thought she would have the same sort of "holy cow!" reaction, but not because of it being dangerous--just impressive. She told me she doesn't think that's normal and that I should go back to the hospital.

I figured she was overreacting, so I sent the picture to Becky as well (she's an RN). Becky is always calm and somehow has this magical way of making me less anxious about things. I was expecting her to tell me it's okay and maybe give me some advice for reducing the size or whatever. Instead, she (gently) told me that I really need to go to the emergency room. She said that if it's still bleeding (the bleeding is inside--you don't really know if it's still bleeding or not without a CT scan) it can get bigger and push against my airway rather quickly.

The roads had gotten terrible because it was snowing really hard. The expressway was even closed at one section because of accidents. (Remember the last time I drove to the ER during a snow storm?) I really didn't want to go. I really felt like it was an overreaction to go to the ER over it and I thought for sure they would send me right back home, but I figured it would be better to be safe and just go get it checked out. I'd had the biopsy at 1:30 pm and Jerry and I arrived at the ER at around 5:00.

[Also, this just reminded me of the time I went to the ER for a suspected hematoma after my skin removal surgery... the bump on my hip seemed foreign and when the doctor examined me, I learned that it was my hip bone. BAHAHA, I'd never felt it before!]

Instead of sending me home, they took me back to triage immediately, bypassing the crowded waiting room, because it could apparently be pretty serious. As the numbing wore off, it was getting more painful. But the pressure on my neck was really starting to scare me.

From triage, they put me in a room to wait for a doctor. A nurse set up an IV and took some blood samples. At this point, time seemed not to exist anymore because it's so mind-numbing to sit in a small room with nothing to do. Jerry was with me, thankfully, so we talked while we waited. 

The doctor and her med student came in and WOW--this was literally the nicest, most caring doctor I've ever met. She was not at all rushed, she explained everything really well, she told me I did the right thing by going in (I know people tend to abuse the ER, and I had felt like maybe I was doing that). She even sent her med student out of the room for a moment so she could ask me privately how I was feeling mentally/emotionally about all of it. She could see how nervous I was because I tend to wring my hands and fidget a lot.

I explained to her the events from earlier and she stopped me when I mentioned the wait for the PA to come in and do the biopsy. She said, "Wait a minute--they had a PA do the biopsy, not the ENT doctor? Are you sure?" She exchanged a look with her med student, and I could tell that something wasn't right. She wanted to know the details about who did the biopsy and what instructions I was given. She said that it is NOT common to get a hematoma from a thyroid biopsy, especially one as large as mine. And it certainly IS a big deal. The PA never should have left without checking it and the tech never should have let me leave without calling the PA back in to look. (At this point, I don't know whether it's routine for a PA to do the biopsy, but from the ER doctor's reaction, I'm guessing not.)

The ER doctor said she wanted to get a CT scan to see if it's still bleeding and that she wanted to keep me overnight for observation, just to be safe. 

When she left and I had time to process all of it, I felt so let down and angry about it all. I should have listened to my intuition when the ultrasound tech was looking for someone who was available to do the biopsy. I should have seen the red flag when I noticed that the tech seemed kind of surprised and alarmed by the hematoma, while trying to seem like it was pretty routine. I felt a little uncomfortable with the fact that a PA would be doing the biopsy rather than a doctor, but I know that PA's are very qualified in their jobs, so I assumed it was normal.

At around 9:00 pm, I was taken for a CT scan. I'd had one before when I broke my jaw, but I didn't remember anything about it. I know they didn't use contrast (where they inject something in your IV during the scan and it helps them get a picture of blood vessels). I wasn't worried about the CT at all until I was told about the contrast.

I don't know why it freaked me out so much, but the CT tech explained that when they injected the contrast, I would feel a sensation of getting really warm/hot from head to toe, feeling kind of like a hot flash. And that it would probably feel like I peed myself, but it was just the contrast doing its thing. It was at this point that I started to have a panic attack. Not from the biopsy, not from the hematoma, not from going to the ER, not from the CT scan, or any of that... it was simply being told about the contrast.

I really didn't think I'd be able to go through with the CT. She called my nurse, who was able to give me some ativan and hopefully get me to calm down. The scan only took about five minutes and the worst part was the anticipation of what the contrast would feel like. It felt just like the tech had described, but it was over with very quickly and ended up being no big deal at all. (If I ever need another, I'm not going to worry about it.)

I was taken back to my room in the ER to wait for the results. It wasn't very long (maybe 30 minutes) before we got the results--the bleeding appeared to have stopped, but they still wanted to keep me overnight for observation. They said they just had to wait for a bed to open up but it should be long. Then we waited. We waited and we waited and we waited. At this point, I was drained. I hadn't eaten since Thursday, and I hadn't had any water or even peed since just before I'd left home (I wasn't expecting all of this or I would have planned better).

I usually go to bed at 9:00 and it wasn't until 1:00 am that I finally got a room. I was kind of delirious with exhaustion and I don't remember if the person who transported me explained anything before they left. But once they were gone, I realized I didn't know where the bathroom was or if I could get some water or even where the light switch was so I could turn off the light. I couldn't find a call button. And I was too exhausted to do anything but try to sleep. I had asked for a xanax to help me sleep, so that, along with the ativan from earlier, made me really sleepy.

I didn't know how to turn off the lights (there are a lot of switches and I didn't want to start messing around) so I just pulled a blanket over my head and managed to fall asleep. At some point, I remember someone asking me if I wanted them to turn off the lights and I said "yes! please!" and I fell back asleep. At around 5:45 am, I woke up. Again, couldn't find the light switch, so I opened the curtains in the room to get enough light to look around.

I finally saw a small sign on another door in the room that said "patients only" and I was so happy to see that it was a bathroom. I picked up my purse from the bedside table and discovered that there was a styrofoam cup of water there--it had been behind my purse, which is why I didn't notice it before. I was so ready to get out of there. I was starving! Since I couldn't find a call button, I walked to the nurse's station to say that my husband was going to come pick me up.

They told me that the ENT doctor had to sign off on my discharge papers but he wouldn't be there until 10:00 am and that my nurse would be in shortly to talk to me. I waited in the room for a little while and even took out my IV.

My nurse finally came in, and was extremely kind and caring. She'd had the "house doctor" come with her to explain why I should stay. They weren't planning any other tests or treatments, but they felt it would be best to let the ENT doctor make sure I was good to go. I showed them how the swelling in my neck had gone down quite a bit (I had pictures for comparison) and the tightness was back to "baseline" (still trouble swallowing, but it was back to what it was before the biopsy). The nurse apologetically told me that I would likely be there most of the day because the doctor had over 60 patients to see.

I knew I would be leaving against medical advice (AMA) but by that point, I'd stopped being so blindly trusting. I had had a bad biopsy, I hadn't eaten in like 36 hours, I was completely sleep deprived, sore, anxious, and just emotionally drained. How can anyone make good decisions in that state? If my neck had still been as big as it was the night before, I would have stayed. But it looked quite a bit better (even the nurse and house doctor said so). I ended up signing the AMA papers and heading home at around 9:00.

As expected from the biopsy, my neck is bruised and ugly and the hematoma is still there (it should go away on its own but it can take days or even weeks). There is NO way that I would feel comfortable getting the thyroid surgery at that hospital or even in the Henry Ford system. After Noah's foot incident, Jerry's horrid lumbar puncture, and now this biopsy complication, I've lost all trust. I don't have the results of the biopsy yet, but I know I won't be going back.

My cousin, who I was very close with when we were kids, is actually a nurse practitioner in the ENT department at the University of Michigan hospital. In retrospect, I should have just gone there from the beginning. But it's not the same healthcare system (Henry Ford vs. U of M) and I figured it would be easiest/best to stay within the same system while seeing different specialists. Especially considering the biopsy was "no big deal".

I asked my cousin if there is a particular ENT doctor that she really trusts and she said the ones she works with are fantastic--she gave me some names and said that if she or her family needed an ENT, that's who she would go to. I really trust her and and decided to make an appointment with one of them for a consult and plan moving forward. I really do need the surgery to relieve the symptoms, whether it's cancer or not.

I've always taught my kids how important it is to listen to your "gut feeling" (intuition), even if it makes you seem like you're overreacting. If you feel like something isn't right, there is a reason for that. I had that feeling tug at me throughout the biopsy but I convinced myself that I was just anxious about the procedure.

I'm not saying it was anyone's fault. It's possible I would have gotten the hematoma no matter who did the biopsy. But I never should have been sent home with a large hematoma on my throat, especially without a doctor looking it over first.

I realize this post is super long, but just one more thing... when I was being wheeled to get my CT scan, I thought I heard Jerry talking to someone outside of my ER room. I didn't think anything of it, but when I got back he told me that he'd run into Kelly, one of my roommates from college that I hadn't seen since 2001! My freshman year was so much fun and I have great memories with her.

I was bummed that I missed seeing her, but she ended up coming into my room a little while later because she is a nurse there. Years after I'd last seen her, when people were starting to get on Facebook, I found her and learned that she had a son on July 13, 2004--which happens to be Noah's birthday as well. Isn't that wild?

Anyway, my neck is looking and feeling better today. You can still see the hematoma bump and bruise, but hopefully that will go away soon. Next, I should get my biopsy results. Tomorrow, I'm going to call U of M and make an appointment with one of the doctors my cousin recommended. And just pray that everything goes well from here on out!

Continue Reading...

A Bump in the Road

I'm not even sure where to start...

In November, I had my annual physical; I have to get one every year for insurance purposes. I was nervous about my cholesterol going back up because of the horrible way I'd been eating for three months. Last year was the first time in my life that my cholesterol was in the "normal" range and I really wanted it to stay there.

To my surprise, it went down again! Only by a few points, but it motivated me to get back to eating healthier because next year, I may not be so lucky. The other stuff (blood pressure, etc) was good. But. My doctor noticed my thyroid was enlarged. I wasn't surprised or concerned because when I was pregnant with Noah, my OB discovered a nodule on my thyroid. I had a couple of ultrasounds but it wasn't suspicious so nothing ever came of it.

A few months ago, I was going to post a Wednesday Weigh-In. I took my usual mirror selfie and I noticed that my thyroid seemed bigger than usual. (Ever since the nodule, my thyroid has been slightly enlarged, but that's pretty common. I never worried about it because I'd had it checked out.) I wasn't even going to mention it to my doctor.

My doctor is very conservative when it comes to ordering tests. She's great at what she does, but sometimes I feel like she doesn't take me very seriously about things. She's actually known me since I was a kid; my mom used to be the office manager for years. Anyway, when she showed concern about my thyroid, I knew I'd better take it seriously because she's not easily concerned.

I started to wonder look back at the symptoms I'd had and didn't really put together. I'd noticed that my voice was changing a little--sounding slightly hoarse. And I've been having to clear my throat a lot. When I had COVID in September, remember how I said my throat felt like someone was squeezing it? I have that feeling a LOT and I always attributed it to anxiety; it makes me wonder if it was an enlarged thyroid all this time.

Over the last six months or so, I've also had a harder time swallowing. Nothing alarming, just something I noticed. Especially while swallowing pills, which I've never had a problem with. Between trouble swallowing, my voice changing, and my throat feeling like it's being squeezed, the signs were there. I just didn't put them all together.

My doctor ordered lab work to check my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) to see if my thyroid hormones were being affected by my enlarged thyroid. (It came back normal.) She also ordered an ultrasound, which is the standard to check out what's going on with the thyroid.

I called right away to make the appointment and was able to get in just two weeks later for the ultrasound. The ultrasound tech isn't allowed to explain what they are seeing, but I could see the monitor and even though I'm not a trained tech, I could tell something was abnormal. I asked the tech if that was a nodule, but since he couldn't answer me, I just had to wait for the results.

Thanks to the holiday, it took almost a week to get the results (usually test results show up in my online chart within 24 hours or so). It turns out that the left lobe of my thyroid is VERY enlarged. And it has a large mass (the mass is about the same size as the lobe itself!). Finally, there is a cyst inside the mass. Lucky me, right?

There is a grading system for thyroid masses to determine how likely they are to be malignant. The system ranges from 1 (very unlikely to be cancer) to 5 (most likely). Due to the size and composition of the mass, mine is a 3--so it's not terrible but not great either. The odds are still very much in my favor that it's benign.

I was then referred to an ENT (ear, nose, and throat) doctor. He scoped me to check out my vocal cords (that was uncomfortable--putting a tiny camera through my nose and down my throat--but kind of cool to see on the monitor). The doctor was mostly concerned about how quickly the mass has grown and my symptoms have appeared. I started noticing them about six months ago, but after I had COVID they really became more prominent. I just thought maybe it'd had something to do with my tooth/jaw.

The ENT ordered more blood work and a biopsy. It's a needle biopsy, where they insert a needle into the mass to collect cells and look for cancer. Due to the size of the mass alone, I need to get it removed. (The doctor mentioned another option that could shrink the mass, but it's not guaranteed and I just really want this thing gone.) I'm nervous that I may lose function in my thyroid, though. If I get the surgery, it sounds like they will remove the left lobe along with the mass. I'll find out more after the results of the biopsy. (The results are needed to determine a plan of action.)

My biopsy is this Friday, the 10th. The biopsy itself is supposedly no big deal.

Speaking of no big deal, I haven't really been wanting to tell people about all of this because I don't want to hear that "thyroid cancer is no big deal" or it's "easily curable". While it probably isn't even cancer, it's very invalidating to hear. I know they mean well in trying to assure me not to worry, but to me, it's kind of a big deal. Even if it's not cancer, removing my thyroid is a major surgery--it's going to leave a very noticeable scar and I may lose thyroid function and need medication for the rest of my life.

I like hearing about others' experiences (good or bad) regarding thyroid cancer/removal, but I just don't want to what I'm going through to be dismissed as nothing. Hopefully that makes sense. Because of that, I've only told a couple of people what is going on. But I've been absent from my blog for weeks now because this has been a major part of my life over the last month. Considering the biopsy and likely surgery, this year is off to a great start! (that is sarcastic)

I've actually been eating much better over the past couple of weeks. I had some goals and things I wanted to work on this year (and I still do) but this thing with my thyroid is hanging over my head. I was hoping to go visit my friend Sarah in Arizona for our birthdays (hers is on the 22nd and mine is on the 25th of this month) but I don't want to make travel plans until I know what is happening.

Anyway, that is what's been going on most recently. In other news, Noah is moving back home! His lease is up at the end of this month and he decided he wants to save money for a down payment on a house. He realized (even though I told him a year ago!) that he could be putting all of that rent money in savings and he'll have a nice chunk of change in a year.

I'm excited to have him come home again, but it's been kind of stressful. I had turned the spare bedroom into my craft/sewing room and having to move everything out of there hasn't been easy. I have no idea where I used to keep everything! There is a LOT of stuff to find space for. We moved the treadmill, which is rarely used anymore, to the garage and I put my large sewing cabinet and the table I built for my sewing machine in the spot where the treadmill used to be. I don't love it, but it works for now.

I had a very stressful year--mentally, emotionally, and physically--and sewing was definitely my therapy. I've always enjoyed sewing, but this past year had me sewing every spare moment I had. While I'm hoping the stress calms down after this thing with my thyroid is over, having this sort of hobby-therapy has been super helpful to take my mind off of things.

Since I'm sure people will be curious about my biopsy results, I'll definitely share the news (I wouldn't bring all this up and then just leave it open-ended). I have no idea how long it takes to get the results, so it may be a couple of weeks. I'll have to follow up with the ENT to figure out a plan as well.

Despite this bump in the road, I'm going to continue to try to get my life back on track after having "let myself go" for a few months (see my previous post if you haven't--that explains what I'm referring to). I've always written end-of-the-year recaps and my goals for the new year, etc, and even though it's late, I would like to try to write a few things (I know I keep saying this and not following through--I've been overwhelmed and it's hard to even know what to write, let alone where to start).

Today, we celebrate Eli's birthday... he's 19!!

Continue Reading...

What a Mess

So, where was I? Oh right, it was a couple of hours before my oral surgery and then I didn't write for three weeks after that. Why is the time going by so fast?!

The morning of the surgery (if you missed it, I needed a tooth extracted and replaced with an implant), I was terrified, of course. Jerry drove me to the appointment; since I was having IV sedation, I needed a driver afterward.

I sat in the chair at the dentist and the assistants got me set up for the IV. [One thing that I noted while I was there--they asked me for my height and weight. I wondered if Eli was asked that before his sedation. Since he woke up during surgery, maybe they didn't give him the proper dose of meds. At home later, I asked him about it and he said he was never asked for his height or weight. I was angry all over again.]

The assistants were asking me about my kids, likely to keep me calm and then to see how the meds were kicking in. I remember laughing one moment (in regards to something about the kids) and the next thing I remember, I was walking back to the car with Jerry. The sedation was WONDERFUL.

I felt pretty good and asked Jerry if we could stop at JoAnn Fabrics for a minute (I only needed one small thing). I don't remember much of anything about that stop! Hahaha, I must have still been totally out of it. My mouth was killing me all the way home. I got a little relief when I took the gauze pads out of my mouth (you're supposed to bite them until it stops bleeding) but it was still painful overall. Painkillers helped a little, but they've never been super effective with me.

The big question for me was, is my headache gone?

It was hard to tell at first because of the tooth pain (or phantom pain, I guess?). My headache became much worse, actually, despite the pain meds. The pain meds made it tolerable, but I only had three day's worth and on the fourth day, I was miserable again. I just figured that my headache wasn't related to my tooth after all, and I was just going to have to live with this headache forever.

About a week later, though, I noticed that it wasn't as bad. I had periods throughout the day where it stopped hurting altogether, and it gave me so much hope. About a week ago, my headache was about 90% gone and now it's to the point where if I do have a headache, it's usually dehydration--basically my baseline.

So now, tooth is gone, headache is gone! 

I wish I could say I feel a million times better now, but this whole thing (plus a bunch of other stuff) did a number on me over the last few months. I started eating terribly, and even binge eating (something I hadn't done in a very long time!). I stopped wanting to do things with people--my headache made me irritable and definitely not good company. I stopped being very active in day-to-day life (I hate to blame it on the headache, but the more I moved around, the worse it got).

I gained 15 pounds, bringing me to 160--the heaviest I've been in probably at least three years. My clothes don't fit. I feel incredibly unhealthy due to the eating habits and lack of exercise. It's amazing what just three months did to me, mentally and physically. This is seriously one of the worst setbacks I've had as far as my weight loss goes--not due to the numbers, but just how quickly and easily this whole thing happened. I feel terrible about myself, though, for letting this happen.

Now that the headache is gone, I want to get back on track but I am having SUCH a hard time doing it. It's amazing how three months can totally change your taste buds, your cravings, even your desire to get back on track. It's hard not to feel like I'm "too far gone" to fix it. And I know that's a horrible attitude! I'm just thinking out loud while I type.

I already know--very well--what I need to do to get back on track and feel better about myself. I just need to find the discipline and determination to do it. I'm going to read 'Atomic Habits' again and try to come up with a plan that doesn't sound so daunting. Jerry is at his heaviest in probably 12 years and he really wants to work on it as well.

I've never been a fan of "waiting until the new year" to start working on a goal, so I'm not going to discount this month. [I wrote a post about this and I just reread it. It's actually pretty helpful, even to myself!] We still have 20 days left, and I want to make the most of it. My birthday is next month and it would be great if I could lose 10 pounds or so before then.

Right now, I am hanging in there--just not feeling very happy with myself. Thank you for asking! I always feel better after writing a post, so I should try to make that a habit as well. I don't want to go back to blogging every day, but even once a week--especially as I try to get my life back in order--would be helpful.

And because I don't like to end my posts on a negative note, here is a picture of Jerry... with his new truck! He's always wanted a new truck, and through the years, we always said that when we paid off the house, he could buy whatever truck he wanted. He's certainly earned it and absolutely deserves it! He LOVES it and I'm thrilled for him. (Also, this means that I now have the Edge to drive.)

Continue Reading...

The Catalyst Headache

It all started when I had COVID in September. When I say "it", I'm just referring to a series of little events that added up to where I am this morning. I wish I had been writing about this all along because it would be easier to keep up, but here goes...

In September, I got a headache. I'd quit drinking coffee the day before, so I assumed it was due to the caffeine withdrawal (my caffeine withdrawal headaches are terrible and I always vow never to get hooked on coffee again, then I do). The next day, my throat felt like it was squeezing shut. This is very common because of my generalized anxiety.

The following day, my headache was still persistent but my throat had gotten much worse--it was to the point that I *knew* I was getting sick. The telltale sign for me is always a sore throat. Sure enough, I got more symptoms and was down and out for a few days. It wasn't terrible, but definitely not fun. The worst part was my persistent headache and throat that just felt like I was being strangled.

I had been taking a decongestant around the clock with COVID so that I wouldn't get a sinus infection. I was happy that I never did--but my sinuses felt totally dry and I assumed that's what was causing my headache.

The headache actually started to get even worse. It wasn't excruciating or migraine-like, but it was there, non-stop, 24/7. I started taking more and more ibuprofen, 800 mg at a time, and it was barely touching it. I couldn't sleep. I got really moody because the headache was so persistent and I just wanted a break. I compare it to having a conversation with an adult and your young child keeps tugging on your pants saying "Mama, mama" trying to get your attention the whole time and you just don't want to interrupt the conversation.

Soon my whole face was hurting, particularly my jaw, my temples, forehead, and behind my eyes. After a couple of weeks, I knew it couldn't be the caffeine. COVID was long gone. My jaw was hurting so badly that I decided to go to the dentist. I'd been avoiding the dentist ever since Eli had oral surgery last December and woke up in the middle of it, feeling every single thing the oral surgeon was doing to remove his impacted wisdom teeth.

When I'd been sick, I was eating popsicles around the clock because they helped my throat. And the teeth on the right side of my face were SO sensitive to the cold. This wasn't totally new, and the dentist knew about it but couldn't find a problem, so I'd just been using toothpaste for sensitive teeth (Tom's actually works pretty well for that!). 

Anyway, I had a nagging feeling that I had a bad tooth or something. The hygienist took x-rays and said she didn't see anything on the x-rays, but it's possible I had a hairline fracture or something (which sounded terrible to me). And sure enough, upon inspection, she noticed a very small crack in my (#31) molar (the one farthest back on the lower right side).

The dentist said he could put a crown on it, but referred me to an endodontist because he said I should be evaluated to see if I need a root canal first. I had a root canal and crown in 2016 and I was terrified to ever have to get another crown (honestly, the root canal was easier than the crown). He said since I was having a lot of pain, there was a good chance I'd need the root canal--otherwise, I might still have pain with the crown.

I wanted to do nothing. Pretend that I never went to the dentist. Pretend that my tooth was fine. How did I chew ice for like 15 years and never get a crack, then quit a year and a half ago and my tooth gets fractured? While I don't grind my teeth, I do clench my jaw a lot when my anxiety is bad, which could be the cause. But the dentist said if I did nothing it would likely get infected, possibly causing an abscess and a much bigger problem than a root canal and crown.

As much as I wanted to ignore the problem, my constant headache was so bad at that point that I just made the appointment with the endodontist and hoped I at least wouldn't need a root canal. After having a severely broken jaw in 2010 (the surgeon said it was the worst broken jaw he'd ever seen), needing two reconstructive surgeries, and having my jaws wired shut for six weeks, you would think that maybe my bad luck with my teeth was over. But that would be too easy! It caused a dental phobia, and I always dread going to the dentist.

Anyway, the endodontist was SO kind. After taking more x-rays and examining my tooth, he told me the worst news yet... he said that he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to save my tooth at all. He said that if I wanted, he could start the root canal and try to save the tooth, but from his experience he didn't think it would work. He recommended extracting the tooth altogether.

The thought of it made me feel sick and I (embarrassingly) cried a little when he told me. Not only am I scared of any sort of dental work, I am now also scared of twilight sedation (which is what Eli had). I knew there was no way I could endure the extraction without the sedation though. He gave me a referral to an oral surgeon... and when I looked at it, it was the same surgeon Eli had had. I said there was absolutely no way I was seeing him, so he referred me to a different one.

Since the endodontist didn't think he could save my tooth I didn't want him to try, only to get halfway through a root canal before needing it extracted anyway. I wanted the least amount of procedures possible. So I called the oral surgeon and made an appointment for a consult, requesting IV sedation. I know people get extractions without sedation, but there was no way I could make it through that.

The oral surgeon was reassuring, especially when he took a panoramic x-ray and saw the plates in my jaw and learned how bad my dental phobia was. He was actually very surprised that I was never sedated when I got the arch bars removed (the metal things that held my jaw shut for six weeks) because it's such a painful procedure. (I compare it to flossing with wire as thick as a paperclip.) I told him about Eli and he assured me that he's never had that happen to a patient before.

The panoramic x-ray looks pretty cool, right?!

He also gave me more bad news. He explained that he highly recommended an implant where I'd be missing a tooth--not for cosmetic reasons, but because my jaw bone could start to degrade and cause a whole host of problems with my other teeth.

At this point, I was just so overwhelmed with all that was happening. It all started with a headache, and now I needed a tooth extracted and implant to replace it, followed by a crown? I asked a ton of questions about the procedure and if he could do it at the same time as the extraction (if I was already going to be sedated, I'd rather get it done in one procedure instead of two) and he said yes--it'll only take another 10-15 minutes.

My headache was still 24/7 (I'm not exaggerating when I say that) and I was desperate for relief. I made the appointment for the (very expensive) dental procedure. And in about three hours from now, I'll be getting IV sedation, having a tooth extracted and replaced with an implant. It has to heal for three months, and then I'll have to get a crown.

My anxiety is through the roof right now. I know this may sound like no big deal to most people, and why am I so worried about a stupid dental procedure? Most people haven't experienced a broken jaw I have and I feel like my fear is legit. But I will do anything to get rid of this headache. I've had to eat on the left side of my mouth for two months (which feels very unnatural) and avoid anything cold. I've been stress-eating and have gained 12(!) pounds in two months. I just want to get this over with and hopefully get back to normal.

Soooo, that's where I am at right now. I hope the next time I write, it'll be without a headache and the extraction and implant will have been uneventful and boring. Here goes nothing...

Continue Reading...

The One Where Phoebe Crossed the Rainbow Bridge

I hate that this is the first post I've written in a while, because it's a sad one for me. The last couple of months have just plain sucked, and I have been avoiding writing until I have something positive to say. But I can't skip over this one.

Noah called me on Saturday morning and said that he was really worried about Phoebe. She was hiding in his closet, not wanting to be social, very lethargic... not at all like her. She also looked very skinny (she was already a skinny cat and couldn't afford to lose any weight). Her fur was looking clumpy. All of these things had happened a few years ago as well, and I'd been sure she was at death's door. I even made the appointment to have her euthanized and we all said our goodbyes to her.

Saying goodbye to her a few years ago

Then, the morning of the appointment, she suddenly started eating again and she perked up a lot. So, we waited. And she got better! Back to normal Phoebe. She's done that to us a couple of times over the last few years, so when Noah called me, I wasn't *too* worried. If it hadn't been Saturday, I probably would've waited a day or two to take her to the vet. But if something was wrong, I really didn't want it to happen while the vet was closed on Sunday.

Noah had an appointment, but I asked his girlfriend, Rose, if she wanted to go with me. She ADORES Phoebe. She has spoiled her rotten over the last year and Phoebe was super attached to Rose. I thought that if this was the end of the road for Phoebe, she'd want Rose there too.

When they weighed Phoebe at the vet, I was stunned. She was only 3.5 pounds (down from 5.5 a couple of months ago). She looked like a skeleton with fur. Normally, she would have meowed the whole way to the vet and then fought her way to stay in her carrier instead of getting examined, but she seemed like she was just so tired and didn't care what was happening.

The vet said her kidney disease had progressed to the point that there was really nothing we could do. They could give her fluids, which would probably help for a couple of days, but then we'd be back in the same spot. And I could tell Phoebe was in pain--it was even hard for her to walk. I asked the vet what she would do if it was her cat, and she gently said that euthanizing her would probably be the most loving thing we could do for her at that point.

She left Rose and I to talk it over and we were devastated. We ultimately agreed that it was what was best for Phoebe. The last thing I wanted was to be with her when the vet gave her the meds because I knew it would crush me, but again--I wanted to do what was best for Phoebe and I wanted her to feel loved until the very end.

In 2009, one of the women in a MOMS Club that I belonged to said her sister had a stray cat that needed a home. We had just one cat at the time--Chandler--and we decided to take her. She was about a year old and had just gotten spayed (she was pregnant at the time, which breaks my heart). We realized she must have had a rough life--she was missing half of her tail and she had a bb embedded under her skin. The way her tail was bent at the end felt like maybe it had been slammed in a door.

This was the day we brought her home

She was extremely skittish around people (which was understandable) but over time, she warmed up to us. She and Chandler were buddies, too. 

She desperately wanted to be an outdoor cat (coming and going as she pleased) and we let her do that for the first few years. One time, though, she was gone for a long time. I was sure she'd been eaten by a coyote or something in the woods across the street. She obviously made it home alive, but that was probably the closest to death she'd ever experienced. I wrote all about it in this post: "And Then There Were Three". After that, she was strictly an indoor cat, unless we brought her outside on her leash. She was notorious for sneaking out, though!

My absolute favorite thing about Phoebe was this sort of "sixth sense" that she had. I have had a lot of cats in my lifetime, but none of them were as intuitive to others' emotions like Phoebe. She was SO empathetic. Any time she sensed that I was upset about something, she became very insistent about being as close to my face as possible. It was like she could stare right into my soul. She wanted to curl up on my chest and rub her face on mine. It didn't matter where she was in the house or what she was doing; if she heard me crying, she would run to me. I felt a special bond with her because of that.

After my skin removal surgery (and my jaw surgeries), she was glued to my chest

And that's why I wanted to be with her when she went to sleep for the final time. I let Rose hold her on her lap and I just kept stroking her head and telling her it was okay. I wanted to comfort her like she always comforted me. Then the vet pushed the meds into her catheter and I could see her instantly relax. She rested her head in my hand. The vet listened for her heartbeat and told us she was "at peace".

I know that it was best for her, but it was still so hard to do. Phoebe was the cat that just kept coming back. Honestly, when I brought her to the vet that day, I was sure she'd get some fluids and turn right back into the old Phoebe, having given us all a scare again.

I am so glad that we made the decision to let her live with Noah and Rose over the last year. She was SO happy there as an only pet. She didn't have Chick and Duck pestering her all the time and she'd gotten her appetite back. She even gained a little weight. Whenever I visited her, she seemed so content, which made me happy. And I loved to see how spoiled she was.

It's so hard to believe that she was 18 years old. I've never had a pet live that long; Chandler was 14 when he died. Estelle is now 17 and Joey is 11. Where does the time go?

I really will try to write soon, even if I don't have anything positive to say right now. xo

Continue Reading...

Skeletons!

I almost forgot about the skeletons post! I have had quite the month. I don't want to get into it here--I do *promise* to write a "real" post next week--because this post is all about the skeletons. Halloween is my very favorite day of the year. I don't have a ton of skeleton photos to share this year, but these ones definitely made me smile. The best part of the displays is seeing the creativity people have.

Valerie B sent me this picture of the cutest skeleton scene! I love that the person took the time not only to set the scene, but to paint the pictures of the skeletons that are posing in the background. Love it!

You know how much I *love* Tom Hanks. So I was thrilled when I saw these pictures from Valerie K. She said she watched all of his movies this summer, so she chose to set up Tom Hanks-themed skeleton scenes. Forrest Gump is my all-time favorite movie, and I definitely recognized Cast Away--love the Wilson ball!

This picture from Tara was taken in Fort Collins, Colorado while she was on a work trip. So funny!

This one is great--I love the idea of the lawn mower, but it's even better with the Wizard of Oz reference! This was sent to me by Stacy in Virginia, who saw it while walking in her neighborhood.

My friend Martine, who fosters dogs, texted this to me. I can't imagine handling all those dogs at once--hahaha, so cute!

Not very long after I got the picture from Martine, I went for a walk with my friend Jen in an area where I've done a lot of races. The park had scarecrows and cute little Halloween decorations from local businesses, and of course I had to get a picture of this skeleton one. It's funny how there are even different dog breeds. 

Another one from the park. I thought this physical therapy business had a fun display...

We continued our walk through some neighborhoods, and I saw this fishing scene...

This is another that was texted to me by a friend, who saw it online and thought of me. Sadly, I didn't get the reference! But to be fair, I'm actually a "Xennial"--born in 1982--so I was a little young to remember. It's from the movie The Neverending Story.

This is a clever decoration in an Aldi that Brenna sent. She said the name tag reads, "Assistant Store Manager"--haha!

Thank you, friends, for humoring me with the skeleton decoration photos. I look forward to seeing all the creative skeleton displays all year long.

Now, I'm going to head out to the garage to pass out candy and hopefully see lots of kids in costumes! It's nice and warm out for Halloween this year. (I really do promise to write by the end of next week.)

For more skeletons, here is last year's post and here is a great one from 2022.

Continue Reading...

A Fun Surprise

I've been wanting to write this for a week now, but I've been waiting for a package to be delivered to the recipient before posting about it...

In my last post, I shared a picture of the cat quilt that I made. Amanda, a long-time blog reader who has always been so kind and supportive, said that if I was to ever make a dog quilt, she would "be first in line to order one". When I read that, I started debating if I should offer to make one. I don't typically like to make things to sell because I'm not super confident in my abilities and I would feel really bad if the recipient didn't like it. Also, I only want to make things that I truly enjoy the process of working on--and if I'm doing it to sell, it would feel more like work than fun.

I mentioned Amanda's comment to Jerry, and he said, "You should make it for her as a gift and give it to her as a surprise!" I absolutely LOVED that idea. There is literally nothing that makes me as giddy with excitement like giving someone a gift that I know they will like and appreciate. (I have such a hard time keeping gifts a surprise, too--I always want to give it to them right away, or tell them what it is, haha.)

I bought the fabric and got to working on the quilt right away. (Here is a link to the pattern, if anyone is interested.) I ended up getting COVID, which wasn't fun, but since I couldn't go anywhere or be around other people, I had plenty of time to work on the quilt. I worked on it every spare moment and I love how it turned out. I used different color backgrounds for each block and I like the color scheme more than my cat one!

I really like the backing, and I did a much better job at the quilting part... my stitches were (mostly) even and it only took me one try (it took three for the cat one).

This dog was my favorite :)

Duck's favorite part about helping me quilt is when I lay it out on the floor to pin it and get it ready to quilt...

I was super excited to ship it to Amanda, but I was also very nervous because I would be crushed if it got damaged or lost in the mail after working so hard on it. I researched the best shipping carrier for something like this and UPS was the winner (the best reputation for getting things to their destination without getting lost or damaged). Also, I didn't really trust USPS because when I made a million masks and shipped them in early COVID days, only about half of them reached their destinations.

I had some leftover fabric from the backing, so I even made a cute little bag for it...

I took it to the UPS Store a week ago last Thursday, and I had them package it for me--again, I wanted to make sure it was done right! Normally, I wouldn't talk about the cost of things when it comes to a gift, but it's kind of relevant here. The shipping was $20-ish, and the box was $10.50(!), "packaging materials" $2.00, and the "labor" of packaging $2.00. I was shocked at the cost of the box and the person working there told me I could send it in an envelope for cheaper, but I told her, "No, I don't care how much it costs--I just want to make sure it gets there undamaged." She asked me what the value of the contents was, and I joked, "Blood, sweat, and tears". Anyway, she reassured me that it would get there safely and it would be delivered last Saturday.

I was SO EXCITED for it to get there. On Saturday, I looked at the tracking online and it said: "Package damaged, returned to sender". I immediately burst into tears. I've been going through a lot of emotional stuff lately (I seriously feel like I'm reliving two years ago) and I couldn't believe this was happening. They didn't include a picture or tell me if the quilt itself was damaged or anything. And it wasn't going to arrive back here until Tuesday. So I had to just sit and wait for three days, imagining the quilt I worked so hard on arriving in shreds.

On Tuesday, it was delivered to the UPS Store, so I had to go there to check it out. When she showed me the box, I was a little relieved because it looked like it was just the box that was damaged. But then I saw the "15x12x10" box I paid $10.50 for, and I was pissed. It was actually two small boxes smushed together and taped. And there were zero "packaging materials" (I'm assuming bubble wrap?). THEN, I was told that they couldn't give me a refund on shipping because I would have to file a claim online. And if I wanted to reship it, I would have to pay the $34-ish dollars again!

This is how it looked when I picked it up.

I said no way, and decided to take it to USPS and hope for the best (if the quilt was intact). First, though, I brought it out to the car and opened the "box". I was SO relieved to see that the quilt was okay. The greeting card, however, was sliced in half--missing the envelope and the other half of the card. I wondered how on earth they sliced the card when it was in the box?! (I thought maybe it started in a different box, which they cut open with a box cutter, damaging the card and then smushing it into the makeshift box? Dunno. Neither did the employee.)

But I stopped and got a new card, then took the quilt to USPS. I bought a box there (the same size as the one I paid for at UPS) and the total for the box and 2-day shipping was only $17. I gladly paid for it and just prayed it would make it to Amanda. The estimated delivery was on Thursday (yesterday).

When I got home from the post office, I went online to file a claim with UPS. I tried for a long time but it just wasn't allowing me to do so. I was finally able to chat with someone who told me that the claim has to be filed by the person who printed the label--which would be the UPS Store that I shipped it from.

I was ready to tear my hair out at that point, because the store had told me I had to do it online. I called the store and spoke with the manager--she was super helpful and filed the claim for me. I haven't heard anything about the claim status yet, but at least it's out of my hands now.

On Wednesday evening, I got a message from USPS saying "Your package was unable to be delivered due to incomplete address..." I almost started crying (again) when it hit me that I get that exact text once in a while and it's a spam text that wants you to click on the link. That was a relief--of all the times for me to get that spam text, that was the worst.

So anyway, all day yesterday I was watching the tracking and my email, just hoping it would get to Amanda. And last night, I was SO relieved to see that it did! Amanda was surprised and thrilled with the quilt and sent me this pic with her two dogs...

It was super fun to work on, and like I said, I love the background colors. I feel like I aged quite a bit in the last week while I worried about it making its way to Amanda, haha--but it made my heart very happy!

Continue Reading...