On Thursday my boyfriend is having surgery on his neck. I will be taking two days of work at the end of the week to drive to Newport to be with him for this. Last month, I went with him to visit his doctor to have a biopsy done on his neck.
It was about this time last year that I met with my Ear Nose and throat doctor and determined that I should have the right half of my thyroid removed.
October is a rough month for me. I wish his surgery had been over the summer. One day last October, I sat in the waiting room of the ENT's office with my mom. I was refered to the doctor after my primary doctor reviewed the ultrasound results and didn't like what he saw. As I sat there that afternoon I remembered something a colleague had asked me that morning.
"I saw the state police at your parents house. Everything okay?" I had no reason to believe everything wasn't okay. My father works for the state police so I figured he had just forgotten something at work. I chose to ask my mom. "I'll tell you later." When is that ever a good sign. The waiting room was empty so I gave her a strange look. Finally, she told me, "your grandmother died this morning. Your aunts called your father but we didn't hear it ringing because we were still asleep. I listened to the message when I woke up and let him know. I guess they figured he might be working so tried him at the barracks too. The trooper just wanted to make sure he had gotten word."
I was a little stunned. I had forgotten my grandmother had even been sick. There wasn't much time to process as my name as called and we were escorted to the exam room. I met the doctor, who I must say in all honesty is perhaps my very favorite doctor ever. The right side of my thyroid was significantly enlarged, about 4 cm. The doctor decided to do a needle biopsy on the spot. No need for an ultrasound guided biopsy, as he could see the enlargement without needing the guidance. It was such a surreal moment; I had just found out my grandmother had died of bone cancer and here I was getting a double needle biopsy of my thyroid. She was the third of three grandparents to die in the month of October. My maternal grandfather died on October 1 of a massive heart attack when I was six years old; my Paternal grandfather on October 14 of liver cancer in my first year teaching. She was also the third grandparent to die of cancer as my other grandmother had died a week before Christmas in 2001 of cancer. All of this was running through my mind as the needles jabbed into my neck claiming part of the thyroid.
I had to wait for another week before I would receive the results from the pathologist.