Part Three: We've come to the end of the road

To catch up on the saga that is equal parts medically articulate and deeply riveting, please check out the links below:
Part One
Part Two

Ah, yes, where were we? To be quite honest, I think I am going to speed through some of this because I fear it could be a tad boring, and I am feeling pretty lazy.

Here is my visual aid for this blog:



So, now I have an endocrinologist, which makes me feel very special. I have a special doctor for one of my glands. She is a fast-talkin' lady, that spurts big words out at me. I try my very best to keep up, because it seems as though she thinks I know what she is talking about. I like to think that she thinks I am very intelligent, so I go on with the charade.

However, since I have been with her, I have gotten my thyroid level under control, and that has made a HUGE difference in my life. When your thyroid is out of whack, it messes with a lot of things in your body. Below is a list:

• weight
• cholesterol levels
• anxiety
• body temperature
• heart palpitations
• hair growth (or rather, hair falling out)
• energy level

There are others, but you get the gist. I just listed the ones that affected me. So, you can imagine that once I got my levels under control I was a much more pleasant person to be around. And, I was no longer a crazy, tired, balding lady.

However, I had been noticing that the nodule in my neck was becoming more noticeable. And by noticeable, I mean people thought I had an Adam's Apple. I tried to wait it out as long as could (despite my mother's incessant urging to get it checked out) but when I started to feel it when I would swallow, I thought it was time.

So, back to my bestie the endocronolgist, and my long lost friend the ultrasound machine. The results were that the nodule had in fact grown (despite trying to treat it with my medication). I am not quite sure of the exact size, but I think it is close to a golf ball. Also, on the other side, I have lots of little nodules. Basically, my thyroid is straight up broke, yo. Diseased all up in that shit. (I have no idea why I decided to get gangsta just then.)

My endocronologist in her true speed-talk fashion suggested that I get the entire thyroid out (we in the medical world call it a total thyroidectomy) and the next thing you know she is scheduling a consultation with a surgeon. It was all happening so fast, and the way she was explaining it was if we were going to schedule a facial. Like, no big deal, you know? No explanation of how long it takes to recover, what it exactly entails, what are the chances I will die? Because all of these thoughts were going through my head.

So I walked out of there thinking that this is not a big deal at all. The next day I should be back at work and showing off my svelte looking neck, then go for a 5 mile run.

Fast-forwarding some time, I finally get to meet with the surgeon, who by the way, is a plastic surgeon and an otolaryngology surgeon (BIG WORD ALERT). And, yes, I already asked if he could do a tummy tuck at the same time, but apparently he just does above the neck stuff. WHATevs.

Jillsy came with me to that meeting. It was sort of entertaining for a few reasons:

1. We were in a plastic surgeon's office, so every time someone walked in I was wondering what they were "in for." Nose job? Botox? Facelift?
2. For anyone that has never been around Jillsy, her cell phone usage is sort of similar to a 13-year-old girl. Scratch that, a 13-year-old girl who cannot hear. Think: Volume, Full Blast;  Color, Hot Pink. She has assigned a ring tone to every single person in her address book, and also assigned different rings for their texts vs. calls. When I say "ring tone" we are talking full-blown five minute songs. And, OF COURSE she gets texted and called like 34 times an hour. So, here we are in the tiny little waiting room, and Jillsy's phone is blowing up to some samba-like didy on volume 30.
3. The surgeon is totally a creepy plastic faced man. He has definitely had some work done, and it is very creepy. Normally, this would be a deturrent for me. But, he has done a zillion thyroidectomy with a huge success rate, so I am down with him. I am trying to not let his creepy face bother me.
4. They gave me this illustrated booklet about the thyroid, which had to have been printed in the 70s. It was HILarious. My favorite parts are the comparison of the lady with hypo-thyroid and the one with hyper-thyroid. I think the only difference was her bulging eyes, and the other one was slightly overweight. If I can find that thing, I will scan some images in for you.

So, T-Time is less than a week. I am not going to lie I am nervous about it. My biggest fear is dying, which I know is crazy and I won't die, but I think I might die in just about every situation, so one in which I will be cut open and knocked out just seems to make sense.

In reality, I am sure it will be sort of like a drugged up vacation where I take pain pills and lay around for  three days straight. I know for some people that sounds like heaven.

I will keep you all updated on the situation. I can't promise to have timely updates, but I will have a lot of time on my hands during recovery.