Adding survivor to my Resume.

Trigger warning: Cancer

The short version: I went to my annual gyno exam, and a swollen nodule was found on my neck/thyroid. After having surgery to remove it due to its size and an undetermined biopsy result, pathology found Hürthle cell carcinoma. No further treatment is needed. I’m currently recovering from surgery.

The long version…

In April, I went to my annual gyno appointment expecting absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. While feeling around my neck, my doctor suddenly paused. I was completely thrown off because I hadn’t noticed anything. And also… what does this appointment have to do with my NECK????

She immediately let me know that I would need blood work and an ultrasound of my thyroid. I wanted to panic, but I didn’t even know what to panic about. I’ve written briefly about thyroid conditions before, but… that’s it.

My blood work came back showing a possible Hashimoto’s autoimmune condition, but otherwise it was mostly normal. I scheduled an appointment with my PCP to follow up. That’s when I was notified that my PCP was no longer seeing patients.

Like… excuse me? This lady is my medical diary!

At the appointment, the NP I saw was pretty nonchalant in telling me, “It’s not like she’s dying, but she’s no longer seeing patients.”

Okay?

We discussed the blood work and ultrasound. She didn’t attribute my lab results to Hashimoto’s, although my gynecologist did. They both agreed on one thing: I needed a biopsy because the ultrasound found a 4 cm TI-RADS 3 solid nodule on my thyroid.

While at the PCP appointment, I sat for almost an hour waiting for an EKG. It was almost time to pick my daughter up from school, so I stepped into the hallway to let them know I’d just come back. That’s when I heard, “Yeah, she’s just really stressed because she had an ultrasound.”

They turned around in shock to see me standing there.

Because, well, YES, I am. And while y’all are out here talking about me, can I PLEASE get this going or???

This was in April. It’s now August. I still haven’t received the EKG results, a follow-up appointment request, or anything else. I’d never had an EKG there before. The entire reason I needed one was to make sure I’d be okay to take a new prescription I was prescribed that day. I also have an irregular heartbeat they had never evaluated with an EKG, so I’d at least expect some communication regarding that.

But… nope.

I also asked for a paper copy of my biopsy referral. The NP told me she didn’t know how to print it and that providing a paper copy wasn’t standard. She repeatedly questioned why I wanted it printed, and the answer was simple: I had zero confidence in them sending the referral in a timely manner.

There hadn’t been one time when I didn’t have to circle back to request that prescriptions or referrals actually be sent.

And this was DEFINITELY not the time to play.

My gyno had given me a paper referral for my ultrasound, and I was able to immediately email it over before I even left the parking lot. That allowed me to get scheduled super fast.

So, long story long, I reached out to my gyno, explained that I needed a biopsy referral and why I needed her to handle it instead of my PCP. They took care of it, and I got the biopsy scheduled.

I had the biopsy on May 5th.

It was absolutely awful.

I had both a fine needle aspiration and a core sample taken. I might’ve accidentally advocated for the core sample myself because I was concerned about the accuracy of FNA on such a large nodule.

The team at Tallahassee Radiology Associates was great. Everyone was so kind and caring, and they even gave me stress toys.

But the hole punch to the neck SUCKED!

I was told it would take a few days to receive the results. While I was there, I also asked about the possibility of evaluating my future risk of malignancy. I was told that molecular testing using tissue from the biopsy could be requested by my PCP.

Before the procedure even started, I immediately sent a message asking for the Afirma test to be requested.

No response.

Keep in mind, this molecular testing takes weeks.

A few days went by. I reached out to my PCP to ask whether the biopsy results had been received.

No response.

I sent another portal message asking whether they had requested the additional testing.

No response.

And you can’t just call the office because their phone system is AI-based and doesn’t transfer you to a human.

The following week, I reached out to Radiology Associates myself. They let me know that my biopsy results had actually been sent to my PCP the VERY NEXT DAY.

……Okay, cool.

Awful communication from my PCP’s office, exactly as I expected.

I let my gyno know that the biopsy results were in, and she immediately scheduled an appointment to go over them with me. Because Radiology had sent them to my PCP, she had to work to obtain them herself—even though she was the one who sent the initial biopsy referral.

She apologized, even though none of this was her fault.

We went over the results together in real time:

“ATYPIA OF UNDETERMINED SIGNIFICANCE (BETHESDA CATEGORY III).

Comment: The findings show atypia on the basis of frequent microfollicles and prominent oncocytic change. The features may represent sampling of a Hürthle cell-rich area of nodular hyperplasia or Hürthle cell/follicular neoplasm. Clinical and radiographic correlation with appropriate follow-up is recommended. Additional material is available for further molecular testing upon request.”

MOLECULAR TESTING….The testing I had already asked my PCP to request!

But okay. The biopsy wasn’t definitively benign, but it also wasn’t definitively malignant. So I’ll Praise Him right there for that.

My gyno referred me to an ENT for surgery.

Before that appointment, I started researching the best places for thyroid surgery. I’m from Michigan, so my first thought is ALWAYS to go to the University of Michigan.

But not this time.

It came down to Cleveland Clinic, Mayo Clinic, or Clayman Thyroid Center.

I requested an appointment with Clayman Thyroid Center in Tampa, Florida. After providing my medical history, blood work, ultrasound, and biopsy results, I was set up for a virtual appointment with Dr. A two days later.

During the call, he stressed that the nodule needed to be removed regardless of the final pathology because it was already causing issues with swallowing and would only get bigger over time.

Okay, great.

He also asked if I’d be interested in robotic scarless surgery.

Well… yes. Absolutely.

This scientist loves technology. Let’s do it.

I asked how far out he was scheduling, and he offered to clear his schedule for the following week.

Like, THANK YOU, but I don’t think I’m ready! I still had other places I wanted to consult with.

Still, I felt very confident in him, especially because of the ability to receive final pathology so quickly. The plan would be to remove the left side of my thyroid. The removed thyroid would undergo overnight pathology, and if necessary, I would be notified in the morning if I need to return to surgery. Which was great rather than fully healing and then potentially having to undergo another surgery weeks later.

This was extremely important to me because I had an undetermined biopsy result. Who wants to heal just to go under AGAIN??

Next up was Tallahassee Ear, Nose and Throat. The ENT is actually my daughter’s doctor, so I was already familiar with him. We had a great conversation. I felt comfortable expressing my concerns, and he answered all of my questions.

He didn’t immediately push for surgery, even though my thought process was: this thing is only going to get bigger.

I hadn’t previously noticed the lump, so it seemed like it had been growing quickly. And looking back, I think swallowing had been an issue for a while, but I assumed it was caused by one of my skeletal issues.

Either way, he agreed that molecular testing would be a good idea and that once we received those results, we could better evaluate the need for surgery.

Meanwhile, time was passing.

I could’ve ALREADY had the molecular testing results back to help guide my decision-making, but my PCP still hadn’t requested it. Then the ENT office didn’t immediately request it either, and Memorial Day delayed the process even more.

In the meantime, I scheduled a virtual consultation with Mayo Clinic. I felt good about it until the doctor mentioned that final pathology could take up to two weeks. He also explained concerns about relying on frozen-section pathology during surgery. He just had a patient that was given a benign diagnosis based on frozen section vs final pathology a week later being malignant.

The thought of healing and then potentially having to start the entire process over again really bothered me.

He also called scarless robotic surgery a gimmick. Which… okay? Can you expound on that?

But anyway, because of the difference in pathology timing and surgical approach, I chose Clayman.

Please note that at this point, it’s now JUNE, and I still haven’t heard from my PCP regarding my biopsy results, EKG, molecular testing—NOTHING.

Meanwhile, I’m calling the ENT trying to track down my molecular test results. I received vague responses that eventually turned into back-and-forth confusion over whether the results had even been received.

I was eventually told they had them.

Then a nurse called and let me know that she heard that I was calling for the results, but they didn’t have them.

I explained that I had already been told they were received. She apologized and said they would be reviewed and that “no news is good news.”

Okay?

At this point, I had already determined my surgical path, but I still wanted to see those results. A 100% risk of an aggressive cancer would obviously affect my personal urgency for surgery.

I tried to get in at Clayman in July, but the available dates didn’t work with existing summer plans.

Eventually, I reached the point of thinking: if this is going to turn out to be a devastating diagnosis, I might as well LIVE MY LIFE.

I didn’t want to squeeze surgery between plans and then rush my healing process.

So I scheduled surgery for August 6th, right before school starts, when I’d be FORCED to sit down anyway.

Weeks went by.

I’m sitting in my daughter’s gymnastics class—which can already be a very overstimulating environment—so I’m in a state of mental and physical chaos when I get a call from the ENT.

And it starts with:

“Are you okay to talk right now?”

UHHHHHHH. *As I watch my child cover herself in chalk.*

So yeah… apparently “no news is good news” was just severely delayed. 🫠

75% risk of cancer.

I probably could’ve fainted. He suggested that I “come in to talk.” Nah. We’re in too deep now. Tell me NOW.

He suggested removing one side for diagnostic surgery and then removing the other side if necessary.

Once again, no rapid final pathology.

So that could mean healing and then going back under.

I reached out to Dr. A and told him the results: a 75% risk of cancer along with a suspicious HRAS p.Q61R mutation. The report noted an association with follicular-pattern neoplasms, including FA, NIFTP, FVPTC, and FTC. BRAF V600E, TERT promoter mutations, RET/PTC, NTRK, and medullary thyroid markers were negative.

I thought that would prompt the need for a total thyroid removal.

But he was confident in proceeding without a total removal and keeping our original plan.

And yes, I STILL had not heard from my PCP.

At this point, I decided to turn it into a “let’s see how long this can go” experiment for my own personal entertainment.

August arrives.

I get my last run of trips in, and suddenly it’s time for surgery.

Going into surgery with a 75% chance of malignancy required me to believe in God showing up in that 25%.

The day before surgery, I was notified that my call time was 5:30 a.m.

A few hours later, I was enjoying an evening hosted at Disney Springs for Cirque du Soleil when I found out my mom’s flight had been canceled. So now we have to take my baby to the hospital.

At this point, it was so late that I couldn’t even call anyone else and try to get them on a flight. My biggest concern was making sure my baby wasn’t stuck in a potentially traumatic experience without someone there specifically for her.

But we made it happen.

We arrived in Tampa at 1 a.m. after a stormy evening at Disney World. I took my antibacterial shower and got a solid TWO-HOUR nap.

We arrived at the center about 20 minutes early. I notified the check-in secretary that my husband would also have my daughter with him until my mom arrived. They were incredibly understanding. They let us know that complimentary breakfast would be served shortly, and they even gave her a coloring book.

I had pre-warned my daughter about everything, but walking into a waiting area with people crying was a lot.

Cancer sucks.

I sat there praying that she didn’t notice too much and wouldn’t be traumatized by the day.

Because I’m not from the area, I was offered a same-day evaluation and surgery. That made the day longer than it is for most patients, but it was incredibly convenient for me.

The worst parts of the entire day were the nasal scope and trying to start an IV in my tiny little veins.

Outside of that, I experienced exceptional care from so many people.

I truly can’t say enough good things about Clayman Thyroid Center.

Dr. A was incredible. He could feel my anxiety, held my hand, and just let me cry.

A very vulnerable moment, but hey.

I lost my grandmother after a *simple* outpatient scope when the people around her didn’t provide the level of care she needed to be being to *simply* walk back out to her family in the waiting room.

I don’t take ANY procedure lightly.

But glory to God, surgery went great. I woke up with just a little soreness near my clavicle. The only questions I had were:

Did I have to get a drain?

Did my whole thyroid have to come out?

No to both. And I passed right back out.

My mom made it there by the time I woke up. The aftercare plans were shared with my team of at-home nurses: Dorian, Kebbi, and my mom.

Once I was able to orient myself, I was all set to head to my hotel.

At discharge, I was walking and talking comfortably. No raging pain.

Just doing all of the things to distract myself as we have to wait on final pathology results via a 9 a.m. call the next day.

So once again: no food or beverages after midnight, just in case the pathology revealed malignancy and I needed to go back into surgery.

Morning comes, I was on FaceTime updating my family on how I felt when the call came.

I hesitated to answer but I remembered the lymph nodes tested during surgery were benign, and my doctor was pretty confident I’d have a good result from the final pathology.

But then he had to tell me that the tumor was cancerous.

Hürthle cell carcinoma. No further treatment needed. And as long as my right thyroid can perform the job of both sides, I shouldn’t need medication.

He believes it was completely localized to the left side. Pathology did not show anything in my bloodstream, and he removed lymph nodes from around my thyroid that were benign.

What a gut punch. But also… relief? I don’t know. It was just too much to process at once. I will monitor my right side via ongoing bloodwork and ultrasounds.

I’m currently resting, recovering, and counting down the hours until I can shower.

It has been QUITE the week, and my big girl starts Kindergarten on Monday! I allowed myself one crash-out during this entire process because, at the end of the day, I still have to be Mommy.

One thing that I was extremely intentional about throughout the past few months was the way I spoke about this situation.

I made sure never to mention myself and cancer as a pair.

I would say there was a possibility of the c-word being found in the nodule or in my thyroid. But I never took ownership of it. I never created a partnership between that word and me.

Even after receiving the diagnosis, my mindset remained the same:

The c-word was found in my thyroid. The thyroid containing it was removed. It’s gone.

I had to set my mind in a way that allowed me to speak myself through this.

So please, if you share this or speak about me to someone else, say:

“Cancer was found in her thyroid.”

Please do not say that I “had cancer.” Do not associate me with it.

I am eternally grateful to Dr. Stephanie Lee, Dr. Whittaker, Dr. A, the entire team at Clayman Thyroid Center, and my family for becoming my nurses after surgery.

And, for the record, I STILL have not received my biopsy results from my PCP at Tallahassee Enhanced Care.

ALWAYS fight for yourself and advocate for yourself.

Don’t wait on a doctor.

Don’t ignore something you feel.

Advocate for yourself.

And let this also be a reminder that you truly never know what someone else is going through. So leave people alone—or, better yet, just be kind.

Enjoy life.

Make memories while you can.

All glory to God.

And schedule your annual physical and specialist appointments.

P.S. Please do not be offended by me not having shared this sooner. This has been extremely difficult to process and work through. Not talking about it has allowed me some piece of normalcy throughout this.  I had to get through this the best way that I could. And now that I’m through it, I’m sharing it. And honestly, I assumed that my mom told the whole world and people were just being considerate and not bringing it up. Be blessed, check your neck.