I had my follow up appointment with my GP today, and he is referring me to a surgeon to have a biopsy of my thyroid. He mentioned that awful 'C' word. Cancer.
I can't believe I just typed that word.
How can I have waited all this time to get pregnant, overcome so much, and now have to worry about dying? I know that may seem melodramatic. But I'm pregnant, so I'm hormonal, and if this is the first thing I truly, tearfully freak out about, then so be it. No one wants to hear a doctor say that damn word. Ever. Immediately, my mind jumps to my twins having to grow up without a mommy.
Since I came home, I have been looking at pictures of my self from the past year or so, trying to figure out just exactly when my throid appears enlarged. Like somehow if I can prove what day it appeared, then I'll know how bad this might be. It was before the pregnancy. I can clearly see it on the 4th of July. What if it was caused by all the fertility meds? What if I gave myself cancer trying to get prenant?
And by the way, I H.A.T.E. this GP. My normal doctor moved to another town a few months ago, so we just stuck with the same clinic and switched doctors. My boss had been to this new GP, Dr G. we'll call him, and she thought he was really good. I hate him. I'm never going back. It was awkward at my first appointment with him, but I thought maybe we'd warm up to each other. But, we just don't mesh. And so, this was an awful visit, made worse by this discomfort. I didn't ask him any questions. I knew if I started talking I would start to bawl and I didn't feel comfortable crying in front of him. I just wanted to leave.
He starts off by walking in, kind of half remembering my story, saying Dr. C (OB) noticed the enlarged thyroid at my annual. I responded, "No, I'm pregnant." I hate him! Then, he says, "But you had fertility problems before, right?" apparently trying to make it seem like he knows about me, but just making things worse. HATE. HIM.
He then says, "They told you that you needed a biopsy, right?"
I say, "No, they didn't tell me anything." I assume he means the asshat sono tech at the imaging place last week.
I continue. "What does the report say?"
It goes on like this with awkward pauses and me tearing up between his random statements about catching it early, can't be too careful, biopsy, surgery during pregnancy, cancer, blah, blah, blah.
I called my boss first. Then I called my friend K. And my friend S. I haven't told DH yet because he won't be home from work until 8 and I didn't want him to freak out and be stuck at work, or try to drive home while he was upset. So, I'll tell him when he gets home. And I emailed my friend J. who had thyroid surgery earlier this summer, so I could get the name of her surgeon and any inside info. She had cancer. And her surgery was successful, so far.
I know its not a death sentence. I may not even have it. And if I do, its perfectly treatable, during the pregnancy or after. But that word is just...so...scary.
Dr G (who I hate) is supposed to refer me to a surgeon. I have left a message for my OB to give me his own referral, because....that's right....I hate Dr. G. And now I have to find a new GP because I am NEVER.GOING.TO.DR.G.AGAIN! I may even drive to the nearby town where my old GP moved.
I hope its not cancer. But if it is, I hope its treatable. And that the treatments don't harm the twins, or can be put off until after they're born. And I hope that I have a lot more years to live.