Healthy Obsessions The Adventures of a Mild Obsessive Compulsive

Tag Archives: Cancer

15 Percent Chance of Cancer

Which isn’t actually all that high. Although that number is probably not accurate for me.

So. Here’s the latest. The nodule on the left lobe of my thyroid was benign. The nodule on the right side was… we don’t know. The cells they found are present in both benign and malignant nodules. There’s apparently no way to know until they’ve cut that puppy out of me and dissected it in pathology.

My doctor recommends getting it out. Removing the right lobe of my thyroid. She would also be in support of removing the whole thyroid, so that they won’t have to go back in later to remove the left if the right proves cancerous.

If I keep the left, that means I have some thyroid function left. It might even be enough that I wouldn’t need supplementation, or could go with a lower dose. I… rather like the idea of keeping as many of my body parts as I can. I don’t like the idea of needing to completely depend on thyroid supplementation. Not because I mind taking medicine; that’s never been a problem. But because when I imagine surviving the apocalypse and being without recourse to medicine or advanced technology… it seems having some thyroid function left would be a good idea. This is why I’m also very interested in laser eye surgery. Contacts may not be easily come by after Armageddon. And no, I’m not saying I actually *believe* there’s an apocalypse coming. I do, however, think civilization is far more fragile than we might like to believe.

But back to that 15% statistic. That number applies to the population at large. It does not apply to celiac patients in specific. In the general population, we get averaged out by other people. However, celiac patients are apparently 10 times more likely to get thyroid nodules than non-celiac patients. We’re more susceptible to certain cancers (thyroid being one, non-Hodgkins lymphoma being another). I don’t actually know my odds on that one. I’ve done some study and not found much. I’ll probably find more if I dig deeper. But. Current data.

My father was asking me if keeping the lobe was an option. Not because he’s recommending it, because he doesn’t know and was wondering what my options were. So far, the literature I’ve read is saying to get the lobe removed. If I have thyroid cancer, I will not know it from thyroid function. The thyroid can keep chugging along and producing normal amounts of hormone even while home to cancer.

My doctor says it’s not a rush. I do have some time to think about it and do more research. I’m leaning towards removal of the right lobe. If I did get the whole thing taken out and then learned it wasn’t cancerous, I’d be really upset. Reminds me of my grandma cutting mold off a slice of bread, “Why throw that away? It’s a perfectly good slice of bread!”

The doctor’s concern is the risk of anesthesia, plus the risk of nicking either the parathyroid or the vocal chords. I don’t judge any of these risks sufficient reason to remove the whole thyroid. If I need to go in for surgery twice, I’ll do it.

Last Day of Chemo

Today is my Mom’s last day of chemo. She should be getting her infusion right now, as I’m typing this.

She ended up in the hospital again over the weekend. And Dad sat with her there for the three days. And he’s taken off work the last several days, to stay with her at home and monitor her IV. To make sure she could make it to this chemo session today.

After this, radiation. And regular testing. But – hopefully – no more chemo.

F*** Cancer

This year has been a tough one health wise for me and mine, which you can probably figure out from my other entries. Two of the big-big ones are cancer.

My mother has breast cancer, and is currently finishing her third out of four months of chemo . And my friend Jay, upon finishing six months of chemo for colon cancer, was told that he had a new tumor in his liver. It would require surgery and then another six months of very harsh chemo (as if any chemo isn’t harsh). Not good odds.

The day I found that out, I just started crying. Sitting in my cubicle at work. I kept cycling through fear of losing Jay, and not wanting to tell my mom. Who, I knew, would ask. And who, I knew, would be able to hear the lie in my voice.

I lied. She figured it out. If not right then, over the next several weeks. And Jay… well, I’m sure you can guess how those weeks felt for him. He documented the whole experience.

But today… Today I got to call my mom and tell her that Jay doesn’t have cancer. That his biopsy was negative, and he doesn’t have to go back on chemo. That his odds are a great deal better.

Cancer isn’t the sort of thing that just goes away. It lurks around the edges. It comes back when it can. But for today, for right now — my mom has just one month of chemo left. And Jay does not have cancer. And I am sitting in my cubicle again and crying, but things are so much better. So very, very much better.