Bowtiectomy Scheduled

The last few days have been so emotional (and busy) for me that I haven't been able to muster the energy to write about it until now.  After school two days ago I spoke to the program chair for my program.  I had hoped (but not expected) that she would offer support in getting through the end of this quarter and helping me to be able to be successful next quarter as well, but that is not the turn the conversation took at all.

She said that she didn't think I would be well enough to get through my classes next quarter and said I should drop out of the program and come back the following year.  I'm currently living off student loans so if I'm not well enough to continue to school I'll have to go back to work.  If I'm well enough to work I should be well enough for school, so it's the ultimate catch-22.  I told her I'd think about her concerns and talk to the surgeon about them.

Yesterday I saw the surgeon.  I wasn't sure what to think at first since he was dressed in scrubs with cowboy boots but he answered all of my questions thoroughly and thoughtfully.  He didn't seem like he was in a rush to get through my appointment.  I internet stalked him later and found out that he's been doing this for 15 years and has won multiple awards so I feel good on that count at least.  He essentially refuted all of the program chair's assertions about my health so as far as he is concerned I should not have a problem with returning to school next quarter.

After that he took my boyfriend and me to meet with the scheduler and this is where things got a bit too much for me.  In order to have the surgery and be able to return to school for the summer quarter I only have between June 14th and June 23rd to have the surgery and recover.  Unfortunately the surgeon doesn't do operations on Fridays so we settled on Monday, June 17th as the day my thyroid and I will forever part ways (unless I have some mutant genes that regrow body parts... Hey, it could happen!).  This gives me basically six days to recover before I have to start attending classes or face being dropped from the program.  No pressure, right?

Next came the part of the conversation that really knocked me over, emotionally. Although I have applied for both medicaid through the state and charity care through the hospital I still haven't received an answer from either about whether I will get any assistance.*  Due to this I was told to expect a all sometime in the next week or so detailing the full cost of the surgery.

The scheduler said that without anything settled they would expect me to put down a "large chunk of money" as  down payment on my surgery.  I responded with "what's large to you?"  Her answer: $4,000 - $8.000.  I know I'm poor. I know I don't have health insurance and that I'm basically screwed financially but it felt like being punched in the gut to have to hear it so plainly.  Thankfully she was very kind and understanding. She said if I don't have anything sorted out by the 14th of June I should call her.  I don't know what that will mean if it gets to that point.

After that things took a turn for the slightly more mundane.  Although I've already had several ultrasounds of my neck that showed no enlarged lymph nodes, I still needed a CT to definitively rule it out.  If they don't have to take any lymph nodes the risk of complications from the surgery will be decreased quite a lot.  I'm not sure if/when I'll get the results.  I'll be on the phone and/or sitting in office a lot tomorrow to try to sort things out.

We left the ENT offices and headed off across the sky bridge to Radiology.  They stuck an IV in my arm so they could give me radioactive contrast during the CT scan.  I'm not a huge fan of needles but I donate blood when I can and I've endured a lot of blood letting and random injections in the name of my health in the past.  I will tell you right now that IV needles are the worst.  They're huge and it seems like they're always determined to wedge it into a joint before they're satisfied that it's really in there.

IV in arm, we headed back to the scanner and they put me on the table.  I'd had radioactive contrast with an MRI many years ago and one of the things they warn you is that it causes warmth throughout your body but especially in your crotch which can make you feel like you've wet your pants.  With my MRI that's pretty much what it felt like.  With the CT I felt like someone had poured liquid fire in my veins and then set my pants on fire just to make sure I was good and uncomfortable.

Afterward I dropped my boyfriend off at school so he could go to his last class and drove home in rush hour traffic alone.  Right now I really appreciate the every day things that let me think about anything but cancer: Driving in traffic, making dinner, doing homework, even going for a walk in the evening even though this generally wears me out to the point of uselessness.

At 3 am, after only a few hours of sleep I suddenly found myself wide awake in the grip of a full force anxiety attack.  Up until this point I hadn't actually shed any tears over my predicament.  I have been far too busy just trying to keep track of everything that I need to do for my health while still attending classes, taking tests, and doing homework.  I would like to say I had a good cry, felt much better, and slept like a baby, but I didn't.  I still feel so tightly wound and exhausted that I only shed about three tears before I got out of bed and went to the living room to do more research on what I need to be doing.

I'm sure there's going to be a point when that dam will fully break and I'll have a good old-fashioned, ugly (with snot and loud sobs) cry but right now I still feel like I'm running from the wolves.  For now, I have June 17th to both dread and look forward to.  It is sadly pathetic that curing cancer will likely be the easiest part of this ordeal for me.

So.. yeah.  That was a bit heavy.  To lighten things up I'd like to do an artists rendition of my upcoming surgery.**

See!  It's just weird without the bowtie.  Is it strange to preemptively miss an organ you went your whole life without really thinking about until someone told you they were going to cut it out because it's harboring homicidal tumors?
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* I also tried to apply for the State's high risk insurance pool that was created to bridge the gap until Obamacare kicks in but it turns out they stopped accepting applications back in March due to lack of funding from congress.  According to their site, they've had so many critically ill people sign up that they're unable to accept anyone else or they may not be able to cover the existing applicants to 2014.  If anyone is still saying that we don't need health care reform, that right there should give them pause.

** Aplogies to any non-Dr. Who fans. You're probably not going to get why this is funny to me.  Actually, even if you are a fan you might not get why it's funny And That's Okay.