An ounce of prevention

It is my hope that my columns, which are based on my personal experiences, either amuse and entertain my readers, or touch and inspire them to reflect on their own lives. In my last column I wrote about my minor frustrations that paled in comparison to circumstances that others have had to endure. I concluded that minor inconveniences are mere bumps in the road of life; things could always be worse. Not long after that, things got worse.

 

At an annual checkup with Dr. Vivian Kominos, she noted that I had a tiny lump on my thyroid gland and advised me to consult my endocrinologist.

Benign nodules (lumps) are consistent with Hashimoto’s thyroiditis, a condition that I had, but my endocrinologist, Dr. Zofia Hrymoc, sent me for a CAT scan to make sure. One of several nodules detected was large enough to keep an eye on and, according to current guidelines, be re-scanned in six months. I opted not to follow the guidelines; I wanted to know now if the nodules were cancerous.

Dr. Charles Highstein, my ear, nose and throat surgeon, concurred that although nodules are consistent with Hashimoto’s, cancer could not be ruled out without a biopsy. A biopsy confirmed that I had papillary carcinoma, a form of thyroid cancer. I would need to have a total thyroidectomy followed by a radioactive iodine treatment to destroy any remaining thyroid and/or cancer cells.

I went home and cried. It brought back memories of when my father was diagnosed with colon cancer and gone nine months later. I have heard so many tragic stories involving cancer. How could this be happening to me? I am supposed to turn 50 at the end of this year. Was this the beginning of the end? Would I see my children get married? Would I ever meet my grandchildren? Would I be at my youngest son’s high school graduation? What kind of suffering would I have to endure? What would this do to my family? How could they survive without me?

Dr. Hrymoc and Dr. Highstein both immediately assured me this was something we would get through together, and it was likely that I would be fine. They explained there are several kinds of thyroid cancers and I was lucky to have this least-aggressive kind. I was told some people live full lives with papillary carcinoma and never know they have it, and many people are diagnosed and successfully treated. I spoke to my cousin who was one of those people and he calmed my fears as well.

A very wise friend reminded me that this was yet another bump in the road of life. We all have our stuff and it seemed this was mine.

The plan was to have my thyroid removed, take the family cruise my husband and I had planned to celebrate our 50th birthdays, and begin the radioactive treatment upon our return. So I set my sights on the cruise but still could not believe I had cancer. I could not even call it that. I called it a malignant growth.

I had given myself a few days to feel sorry for myself, but with an understanding of the disease that I had and what I had to do to eradicate it, and my husband and doctors by my side, I felt that I had a sense of control of the situation, and a calmness overtook me. That knowledge and support helped me gain strength. I realized that my family and friends would take their cues from me and I was not going to bring them down. I would have a positive attitude, do what I had to do and get on with my life with little or no interruption to theirs.

Coincidentally, my lifelong friend, who also turned 50 this year, had a cancerous tumor removed from her breast around the same time as my thyroidectomy. Early detection saved her life. Although she must undergo chemotherapy, radiation and take medication to ensure that her cancer does not return, we both accept that we must do what we have to and are grateful for the medical advances that give us this opportunity to survive. We give each other strength and support and look forward to celebrating our birthdays together for many years to come.

I had learned several things 18 years earlier through watching my father, who I still love and miss desperately, suffer after not being proactive enough about his health. It made me realize that every day is precious and should be lived to its fullest. I also learned that his colon cancer could have been cured if it had been detected early.

I firmly believe we must take advantage of the latest diagnostic tools available to ensure our health, and be our own advocates. I hope future health care advances include the availability of accurate routine total body scans for all, allowing the safe monitoring of all internal body systems instead of waiting for symptoms to be noticed.

Thanks to the diligence of my doctors and the exceptional palpating fingers of Dr. Kominos, who detected a tiny growth deep within my neck, they tell me I am going to be all right. I sure hope they are correct.

No one ever knows what will happen in the end. People die from freak accidents, long illnesses and many other things. We cannot control everything, but we can take care of ourselves to increase our odds for survival, and hope for the best.

My surgery went well, the cruise was great and I have just completed my radioactive iodine treatment.

I have noticed that when I tell people my story, some decide to check themselves out, and a surprisingly large number of others tell me stories of their own successful battles with cancer due to diligence on their part. I feel it is important to share my personal experience with as many people as I can with the hope that anyone who may be hesitating to get checked out becomes motivated to stop wasting time and start tending to their health.

Lots of things have changed over the years, but Benjamin Franklin’s words “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure” still ring true today.

Don’t waste your precious time. Get yourself checked, plough through those bumps in the road, then go to the beach and have fun.

Amy Rosen is a staff writer with Greater Media Newspapers. She may be reached at arosen@gmnews.com.