It Could Be Nothing. Or It Could Be Cancer. But It Could Be Nothing, Too.

I need to go to the Doctor.

I was diagnosed with thyroid troubles back in, oh, the early 90s. Basically I was told, “Hey, your thyroid is a little slow, and you’ll probably have to get on medication for the rest of your life at some point, but we’ll just wait and see, mmkay?” So I waited.

I got settled at FSU and started my first semester of Graduate School. The apartment complex I chose had originally set aside a nice second story apartment for me, but on moving day it wasn’t painted or some stupid thing like that. So they gave me a third story apartment. These were older buildings because I was a struggling Graduate Student with no money for the nice campus apartments and took what I could get so there was no elevator. Just three flights of stairs that doubled back on themselves, so really it was like six flights of stairs. My Grampa and his brother, God bless them, hoisted my heavy ass oak bedroom set up those six flights, on an August summer day, with no AC because I told the power company to turn the lights on in the second floor apartment and it was a Saturday so I couldn’t call and tell them the apartment complex made me move!

Anyway. There’s a point…I swear…

I settled into my Grad School routine, climbing those six flights of stairs at the end of every day, and collapsing on the floor. Literally. I’d climb up to my apartment, shut the door behind me, and fall on the floor, where I’d sleep for a few hours. I thought it was the rigors of Grad school taking their toll. Or the heat and humidity of summer in FL, combined with the insane stair climbing. But no.

It was my thyroid. Knock knock knocking, letting me know it was done and out.

By the time I saw my first endocrinologist, she couldn’t believe I had walked in her office on my own two feet. Apparently, based on my bloodwork, I should have been like, bedridden or something. Unable to walk five feet on my own. My thyroid had completely shut down and was taking my body with it.
After months of gradual medication increases I was stable and back to normal, although it had been so long since I’d known normal I’m not sure I really noticed. Over the last ten years I’ve had my bloodwork done at least once a year, and every once in awhile have needed a little adjustment of my meds (mostly when I’m pregnant). It’s really been the easiest chronic medical condition to manage.

The last week or so, though, I’ve noticed shooting pains in my throat, where my thyroid is. I’ve noticed a thickness…almost a heaviness there. I finally decided last night that I should really go see an endocrinologist again. But I’m terrified. As I sat on the couch last night pondering this decision, thoughts of cancer floated through my mind. Thoughts of scary surgery, leaving a scar across my neck like someone tried to decapitate me. Thoughts of getting really sick and weak and not being able to care for my kids. Then I got scared, because what if I really did get sick like that, and needed chemo or something? Who would watch my babies? Wayne can’t take that much time off work! Who would keep my babies? And then I just shut down. I don’t want to deal with this.

It could be nothing. It could be that I just need a medication adjustment. Or it could be throat cancer (which occurred to me this morning). I really don’t want to know right now. I just want to stay in denial.

But I’ll make the call. Tomorrow.