I was sent to see an ENT consultant who was lovely despite the slight language barrier caused by his extremely strong Spanish accent. I was referred on for a FNI which although not a particularly pleasant experience was not too bad considering a sonographer was stabbing a huge long needle into various areas of my neck. It was when he moved away from the area of my swollen gland to the centre of my neck that it was worst. But it was all fairly non eventful. The worst part now was the waiting for results.
After nearly 2 weeks I was getting very twitching and couldn't concentrate on anything much apart from finding out what was going on. Although work was extremely busy; manic really, I was still not sufficiently distracted from my health issues. I decided enough was enough I couldn't wait any longer and so proceeded to phone the consultant's secretary who was very nice and polite and explained to me an appointment for the results would be sent in due course. This was not the response I wanted I needed to know and I needed to know now! So I badgered her until she agreed to go away and talk with the consultant. I explained I just needed to know if I had cancer. She came back and told me he had found space for me in his clinic the following week. That confirmed my suspicions that it was cancer otherwise why would he fit me in so quickly.
Being a single mum of 2 my mind started to race run away with me and |I started worrying about what would happen to them if I died. The least they needed was support from their father. So I told him all about the appointments I had been to and what my thoughts were and he offered to come to my consultation the following week with me. I had already told friends and my sister and was constantly receiving messages of support and assistance from them all which was a great help. At this stage I had told my children nothing. They didn't even know I had been going for appointments. As far as I was concerned I was putting on a brave face to protect them from what was to come.
The morning of the consultation for my results came. The children went off to school and as far as they were aware, I was going off to work. My ex husband picked my up and we drove off to the hospital. My heart was racing so fast I was trembling as I was almost certain of what awaited me. He was obviously nervous too as he was trying to be very upbeat and cracking jokes.
We arrived at the ENT clinic and everything seemed so normal I almost questioned why I had someone with me. I got called through to see my consultant by a lovely friendly nurse. I was asked to take a seat in the examining seat in the centre of the room and then the bomb was dropped! I had been diagnosed with thyroid cancer. I remember being told it was an aggressive cancer and they were to operate the following week. I don't really recall much else apart from asking if I would need chemo to which my consultant (if I remember rightly) kind of chuckled about. My ex was bombarding them with questions which I couldn't really take in. I remained quite calm which I hadn't expected. I guess I was in shock. And there were only a few tears before I was told I had to sign here, here and here so they could operate and remove the cancer. I don't recall there being any conversation about any side effects of the operation or risk only that they planned to cut across my throat and remove my thyroid. There didn't seem to be time to digest anything or ask any questions. It was this is your diagnosis, we are operating next week, here is your form to take to radiography. We need you to have a ct scan to make sure it's not grown into your lungs or your bones. It was a whirlwind experience going from one are to another being given instructions on what was going to happen and how that was going to make you feel. (injecting the dye for ct which makes you have this terrible hot feeling in you bottom which feels like you have pee'd yourself)
My mind was still on my first appointment, even when I was on my third having my pre-op done. They were a little concerned when doing my blood pressure that it was elevated until I told them about the diagnosis I had received less than an hour earlier and then it was all tea and sympathy. I was taken into a room to discuss coming into hospital and asked if I had any concerns. The only thing I could think of was how do I tell my kids?
Finally, all the appointments were over and we got in the car to come home. We both shed a few tears and then my ex suggested we go for lunch somewhere nice, which we did. But before we did that we had to go see my in laws and break the news. My mother in law who I adore and who is quite close to me was gutted and just kept hugging me saying it wasn't fair and making offers of help and support. I managed to break away and we drove to a nice little restaurant close to where I live. I felt almost numb at this stage but went through the motions of ordering food and drink I wasn't even sure I could stomach. Who would have known hours earlier I had been told such dreadful news when we were sat chatting, eating and drinking like any other normal people in the restaurant. All the time I was thinking I must phone my sister she will be going out of her mind waiting to hear from me.
I realised while we were having lunch I needed to tell the children together. I couldn't have one of them having the knowledge without the other, so we had to devise a plan to ensure both would be at home at the same time. My son had his own car and being in sixth form would be home early whereas my daughter would need to be picked up. I agreed my ex would pick up my daughter while I sat in my car at the top of my road and phoned my sister to break the bad news. That should have given me plenty of time but due to her distress about the situation it obviously took longer than I anticipated as the next thing I knew my son was tapping on the car window asking me if everything was ok. It quite clearly wasn't but I put my arm around his waist and ushered him home telling him it's fine, I just need to get home.
At home, I sat them both down at the kitchen table and held their hands as I looked from one to the other. They were quite clearly very worried so I imparted my news as clearly and unemotional as I could. They both hugged me and my daughter sobbed and said now she understood why I had been sad all these weeks. She knew there was something wrong but couldn't understand what. Guess I'm not such a good actress after all! My son seemed shocked and although his eyes glazed over he didn't cry. At this stage my ex was still at my house but decided to leave us to carry on with our normal lives, whatever normal meant now. He said his good byes and went to his car. It was then I realised my son had gone too. Next thing I know he is outside shouting at his dad about how my he was getting his own way now. Having left us wasn't good enough he would now be pleased I wouldn't be around and it was all his fault! Guess the grief and upset has to come out in some way. It didn't even cross my mind he would blame his dad for my illness. I felt dreadful for so any reasons! My kids had already had such a tough time when their father left. We lost our home (the only on they had ever known) within 6 months and had to leave the village where they grew up as it was too expensive for me on my own. Their whole life had changed within a few months and I had suffered a prolapsed disc in my neck when we had first moved which resulted in me being on morphine for a year and my son taking on responsibilities an 11 year old shouldn't have to. I also had a boyfriend who my daughter had grown close to who through sudden death syndrome had been there one minute and the next was gone. They had both been through so much I felt awful that I was putting them through even more. It seemed it was always me that made their life worse with illness and death and I was doing it to them again.
Naturally, I started to reflect on the diagnosis and as I hadn't been given full details and there was no nurse back up I started to google search which was a terrible mistake. Aggressive cancer (which I had been informed I had) had a very poor prognosis and my mind went into overdrive. I kept myself busy that evening by digging out all my pension paperwork to make sure that if the worst should happen my kids could afford to live in the same house.
Later that afternoon I phoned my boss with the news I had been given earlier in the day. I felt so guilty as he had invested a great deal in me and only a day before had promoted me into a senior role. He was brilliant and although didn't know how to respond to the news told me to take the following day off and only come back in the following week if I felt up to it. That took a great deal of pressure off me knowing he was fully supportive and I didn't need to worry about my job.
The next day after a somewhat sleepless night I told the children they didn't have to go to school, they could take the day off to try to come to terms with what they had been told the previous day. My ex phoned their schools and explained the situation to them. Me and my 2 babies were sat watching films and they seemed happy enough and very supportive of each other. That's when I thought, I can't sit here doing nothing, I have to get on with life, so after checking they would be ok I got dressed and went into work.
