For years I have struggled with fatigue. When I say for years I
am talking about 10 years. And when I
say fatigue, I mean mind-numbing, cannot
function, almost unsafe to drive, utterly pressing exhaustion. I mean the kind of tired that makes simple
acts of life very difficult. There were
other problems too. They crept in so
slowly that I thought they were just part of what made me uniquely me. They became my “normal. It was things like gut discomfort and
bloating, intense sugar cravings and hypoglycemia, endocrine irregularities and
persistent acne and rosacea. Weight
gain, anxiety issues and strange heart palpitations…some fast, others scarily
slow. There was yellow-orange tinted
skin on my hands and feet too. Amassed
in one long list, it appears obvious that something was wrong but as I said,
all these things occurred slowly, over time, sometimes with varying dominance
of one over the other, some seeming to get better for a time. For six years I sensed something was “not right”
and kept going to the Dr. However, it wasn’t until I was involved in the
necessary classes for my nutrition degree and when the symptoms exponentially
intensified that I that I became convinced
that something was terribly wrong.
Just a year ago, I started doing my own research and created
my list of symptoms, taking them to my Primary Care Physician (PCP). She unfortunately took me on a bit of a
go-around and then refused to even look at the list I clutched in my hands or
listen to the story my shaky voice tried to tell. I found little consideration or time or
empathy from her. So I decided to find a
new Dr. (a scary task in and of itself).
In God’s kindness I found one and one who listened well. A Dr. who empathized. She did some more comprehensive tests and
referred me to a Specialist (Endocrinologist) when she said “red flags.”
I walked out of my first appointment with the
Endocrinologist with both a diagnosis and a mixed bag of emotions. His intense personality had listened eagerly
to my list of concerns. He heard me and
then married what he heard to my lab values and ultrasound results. “It’s obvious,” he had said. “You undoubtedly have hypothyroidism caused
by the autoimmune disorder Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis.” This diagnosis itself was
not a shock since all of my personal research had convinced me that this was
what I had but the fact that I was finally heard and diagnosed was a
strange feeling. It felt good to have a
name to it, to know I wasn’t just crazy.
I was immediately put on thyroid medication to compensate for the
increasingly dysfunctional thyroid tissue that my immune system was attaching
and killing.
Fast-forward three months and there I sat, once again in the
Endocrinologist's office, hearing yet another diagnosis—papillary thyroid cancer.
The initial ultrasound of my thyroid had revealed an impalpable 9mm nodule
in the right lobe of my thyroid gland with spots of calcification in it. This partially calcified nodule along with my
young age triggered red flags to my Endocrinologist who did a biopsy as
“insurance.” Nothing about the biopsy
had frightened me except the needles with which they had pierced my neck. Non-cancerous nodules are very common in
Hashimoto’s patients so I hadn’t been concerned that this really would be cancerous. It was to my great surprise that I sat there
in the Dr.’s office with that big, ugly, smudgy black word of cancer now linked to my name forever.
There is lots of good news in this story. Part of that good news is that papillary
thyroid cancer (PTC) isn’t the aggressive kind and is not known for being fatal. The first line of treatment for a person like
me who has PTC is a complete thyroidectomy
(a complete removal of the thyroid gland).
The other part of the good news is that they can do a one-time
radio-active iodine treatment if they find the cancer has spread to the tissue
bed in my neck. They won’t know if I
will need this until after full pathology report is run after surgery.
So that is why I’ve had a longer summer vacation than I
expected to have with no discussion about an aggressive job search. I’ve been a "lady in waiting" for her surgery
date. And I now finally have it—it’s today.
Yes, today, October 7th,
I am having surgery to remove my little inflamed and cancerous thyroid.
There are other good parts to this
story as well. God has been at
work. For years, through the shadow and
difficultly of this health condition, God has pushed me towards Himself. If I hadn’t come to the end of my rope
countless times, I might not (indeed I know I would not) have known that God
was there at the end of the rope every time.
He had been there all along, and I had needed Him all along, not in just the moments when I had felt desperate. I also can look back and thank God for His
timing. Admittedly at first, I was a
little resentful that the discovery of my condition came after both school and my dietetic internship. During those years (and especially within
this last year) I was starting to become a bit unraveled. In many ways, while I was gradually getting spiritually
stronger, I felt physically weaker and more vulnerable.
I inwardly moaned to myself, “If I had only known what was wrong (and had
not thought I was going crazy) and had been under effect treatment before school
or at least before my internship then perhaps things would have been much
different.” Things would have been
better These sorts of “perhaps, if-only, and what
if” thoughts are dangerous and teeters one the precipice of spiritual
rebellion. It took a while and I had to
do some grieving, but I came to the point where I acknowledged and believed that had
God wanted things to be different, He
would have made them so. And the
fact that He didn’t make things difference didn’t meant that He was not good. It is
one thing to recognize God’s sovereignty and it is an additional step to state, trust and treasure the fact that
He is good in each exercise of His sovereignty even when it is vastly different
or directly opposed to what we want or think we need.
This past summer has given me the
chance to heal from a lot of bruised places in my soul and body. As I wait, God has re-built and refreshed me
on many levels. It has been a time that God has reinforced His amazing, unmerited,
extravagant love for me.
There was on day in
particular last month that I sat on the
couch almost sobbing while my sister stared at me wide-eyed (“oh now, what has possessed Cathryn
again?!). “I have been (sniff)…just…(wipe
the eyes)… devastated with blessings today” I wailed happily!
Truly I can say with the
Psalmist, “…my cup runneth over!”
I can’t even begin to predict what is in store
for me in the months ahead (physically, job-wise etc). Likely it will be full of both bumps and
blessings that I couldn’t have expected or anticipated. And that is ok. I have learned that living the
“victorious Christian life” often looks more life humble, desperate brokenness
than personal, heroic, eventually-overcoming strength. No matter how many valleys of the shadow of
death He calls me into and regardless of how many times I break apart, I am
confident that He Himself and all of His redeeming grace goes before, with and
behind me.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall
follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the lord
forever.” Psalm 23: 6
“Come magnify the Lord with me and
let us exalt His name together.” Psalm 34:3.
