This journey has felt so much like an ocean of uncertainty. This journey has been defined by starting over, fighting the same battle, and working through the waiting without knowing what might be next. Wave after wave has hit in the last two years. Some are light and some knock me on my butt. This one was a knock my on my butt type of wave.
Dilan and I headed to MD Anderson at the end of June looking for answers. As we came closer and closer Houston, I found myself getting more and more anxious, angry, and emotional. I used this time to read the letters and respond to text messages that many of you had written. Once again, I felt the love and support that surrounded us on this journey. I might have cried through reading all of them, but I soaked up every word and cannot thank you enough. Deep down in my heart, I knew there were answers waiting for me and that this is where we needed to be, but the other part of me didn't want to have those answers because that meant there might be answers I didn't like.
Dilan and I worked through three days of appointments, scans, bloodwork, and biopsies. We met with an oncologist endocrinologist and a thyroid cancer surgeon along with many fellows and nurses. I can't tell you how appreciative we are of the care we received at MD. They sat with us, heard our story and our frustrations about radioactive iodine, fertility, and being on a roller coaster, they showed us my scans and explained in detail everything they saw. I took it as an accomplishment that more than one medical professional asked me if I had a medical background because "not many people know this much about their medical history." Maybe that'll be my next career ;)
The ultrasound I had on day two of appointments showed that there were two worrisome spots that they biopsied then and there. The two that they biopsied were the smaller than the size of a pencil eraser. The doctor who performed the biopsy said I would receive the results before I left that day. Sure enough, he came back 20 minutes later and shared that both biopsies were positive for papillary thyroid cancer.
Let me tell you, hearing this phrase for the third time does not make it any easier.
After the news, Dilan and I decided to hit the beach. We had planned on it before the biopsy and contemplated not going because of the news, but it was honestly the best distraction. While we were walking the pier that evening, probably close to 8:00, my oncologist endocrinologist called to reassure me that even though I still had cancer, that he wanted me to continue to enjoy my time at the beach because they knew how to handle it.
The next day we met with the thyroid cancer surgeon. She walked us through the process of surgery and her non-negotiable was to wait a year after my last surgery in order to let my body heal as much as it can before she goes back in to the same place for the 3rd time in two years. She was also willing to work with my school schedule. Thankfully, PTC is so slow growing that I have the option to wait and heal. They also described these spots as "leftovers" from the original tumor that took this long to show up, not necessarily recurrence - not sure I like the term "leftovers" but I also found hope in the idea that it wasn't necessarily recurrence.
For once I feel as if I have some answers, and man that feels so good. But I am also continuing to venture into an ocean of uncertainty in many other ways. Will this be the end? Will we finally be able to move on? What will it look like to move on after another neck dissection? Will this surgery be as hard to recover from as the last? Will I lose my voice on the right side, too?
With all that said, we'll head back to MD Anderson in the fall for a follow up to make sure nothing has advanced more than expected. Pending that appointment, we will schedule surgery #3 at MD Anderson for March to "clean house" as the surgeon put it. This one will be the same surgery I had in January of this year, but on the right side instead. It's encouraging to me that nothing has shown up on the left side after the last surgery, but in all honesty I'm just ready to be done.
Despite the hardships of this trip, we had a few beautiful moments, too. We were able to see one of our camp friends get married and be part of that special day, we were able catch up with so many camp friends at that same wedding, visit the beach, eat some dang good food, and of course made a little detour to Magnolia Silos! Here's a few snapshots from our trip.
As I've processed this news through the summer, I've definitely had my highs and lows. I waited to share this news "world wide" because I honestly needed time to sit in the suck of it all. I have come to many realizations, but also found myself on my butt as the waves of grief hit. I've sulked in the realization that this journey isn't over yet, that there's somethings that I can't do yet, that we've spent a small fortune on medical instead of a honeymoon or kids. But in the midst of the valleys, I've realized that I can't keep living my life on hold in the middle of the waiting. What this looks like, I'm not sure. Maybe it's saying yes to things that I originally was too risk averse too, maybe it's investing more in myself and relationships, maybe it's adoption or foster care, maybe it's soaking up the moments of just Dilan and I because although we are so looking forward to children one day, the memories we make now are so special, maybe it's focusing on my career and my healing and making boundaries for both.
Whatever it turns out to be, I'm learning to say my "best yes" as Lysa Terkurst calls it. And honestly that changes more often than I'd like to admit with the physical and emotional realities of this season. But being able to discern what is too much and what is not enough is a huge win I never thought I would be able to do.
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