The Cancer Chronicles V: The Road Less Traveled

It seems like it's taken forever for this month to pass and it's only half way through! So much has happened in such a short amount of time. A whirlwind of words has blown through my life these few, but seemingly long weeks--words such as surgery, thyroidectomy, and cancer. I'm about to add a couple more – radioiodine treatment.

I met with the doctor of nuclear medicine last week at the hospital. It appears each hospital I have gone to these past few weeks feels the need to notify the heavens and the neighbors of my presence through the blaring of bells and whistles and strobe lights staged as a fire drill. The first time this happened, I was recouping in the hospital bed after surgery, strapped down by protruding tubes from my body which were connected to some very important beeping machines. I lay there listening to crashes, slamming doors, and scurrying feet running away from my door. I was concerned. This time, the drill was upon my arrival. I don't know what I have done to deserve such attention. It does make hospital check-in challenging when blockades and limited staff are present.

I did find my way to the doctor's office, located in the cancer center. Again, that word – cancer. I flashed back five years ago where at that same hospital; I crossed paths with cancer, embodied in my former colleague at the Highlands Inn, Oralia. She was diagnosed with cancer, which after a long, valiant battle eventually took her life. I was there for my first iodine scan of the nodule on my left thyroid lobe, unsure if it was cancerous. She was there for lab work. Her stoic words spoken to me have guided my doctor's visits to this day. In summary she said, "Kristi, you need to be your own advocate. Don't wait for the doctor's office to call you. You call them. Be persistent."

I was now walking in her footsteps, down the road less traveled to the cancer center, descending into what seemed like the depths of despair or a very clean, white-walled dungeon with beautiful art on its walls and sporadic zapping sounds in the distance. If anyone should consult me on hospital design, I would highly recommend putting all patient services above ground. Although, I'm sure they have their reasons.

Considering the fact I tend to fight stress with humor and sarcasm, my doctor's visit was informative, despite my response to the doctor when he asked me after a series of yes/no questions if I ever experienced periods where I lost consciousness, to which I blithely replied, "Not that I can recall."

Seriously, I had a great meeting with the doctor and have a plan for my treatment. I've already begun the low-iodine diet, which I will be on for three weeks—lots of fresh fruit, veggies, and meats. No iodine, salt, or pre-packaged items. This is to limit the amount of iodine in my body so the treatment is the most effective. Amazingly, this limits a lot of foods. I've been experimenting with recipes and for the first time made spaghetti sauce from scratch!

I'll be stopping my thyroid medication at the end of this week to start the process of starving my body of thyroid hormones in preparation for the radioiodine treatment. If all goes well in the prepping process, I'll be admitted into the hospital on Mon. 6/4 and will be given the radioiodine pill, making me radioactive. The next day, they'll monitor my radiation levels and when they are safe, I'll be released to go home. While at home, I'll have to be separated from the rest of the household for three days, keeping a 6 ft. distance between all humans and furry critters. The cats will seriously be ticked off. During this time, I'll be put back on my regular thyroid medication and begin the process of adjusting my medication levels to fit me personally. It looks like I'll have periodic iodine scans to verify the cancer is indeed gone. All said and done, I hope to be recouped, adjusted, and rested in time for my Maui trip in late July.

I'm currently concerned about strength these next two weeks. I started back to work this week and fight being exhausted when I come home. My stamina seems to be slowly increasing each day, which is good. I have to be strategic with my energy. I don't know how I will do next week, being off my thyroid medication. I hope to power through.

I continue to be indebted to you for your prayers and encouragement. For some thyroid cancer survivors, this was one of the loneliest phases to go through, since it involves limited human contact. I'm thankful the 6 ft. 'cootie radius' is only for a few days. I'm learning to patiently endure on this road less traveled, a road which seems to be getting more and more crowded lately. I continue to be grateful in advance to join the ranks with thousands of others, bearing the name 'cancer survivor.'