A very fortunate soul.

All I want from you is.......your voice.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VyFVG4VfPmg



 (Disney's The Little Mermaid, one of my favorite movies as a kid)

 I hear this song in my mind a few times a day.   And some of the lyrics hit home, "..in pain, in need."  And others, "Just a token really.  A trifle.....it won't cost much, just your voice."    And let's be grateful that I still have, "my looks, my pretty face, and don't underestimate the importance of body language."

Last week we were having dinner and Eliza had lost her voice due to a cold.   Josh and I were trying to get her to eat and told her it would help her get better faster.  She looked at me and asked if it would help her voice.  I said yes.  Then I saw the wheels turning in her head and said, "It won't help mine....mine's in a shell somewhere and daddy hasn't found it yet."    We had a good laugh over that one. Slowly but surely I am getting more of my voice back.  In the mornings I sound half decent and it isn't painful to talk.  By the evening it's much harder.  I am learning that a voice nap in the afternoons helps a lot.  And my hope is that Santa will put one of these, http://www.amazon.com/PWMA50B-Waist-Band-Microphone-Rechargeable-Batteries/dp/B005I2YJPM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1417021822&sr=8-1&keywords=voice+amplifier under the tree for me.

At this Thanksgiving time I do feel very, very fortunate.  We are so grateful that I found the cancer in the early stages, we are grateful that regardless of the complications I can still be the mom I was meant to be.   We are grateful for friends and family who have rallied the troops and brought meals, cleaned house and helped with kids.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.   You truly are God's angels.  Now for the good news....my ultrasound came back "clean" and my thyroglobulin level came back low enough for me not to need additional surgery!!!  YEPEE!  Hooray!  So happy and SO, SO grateful for miracles.  Thank you for your prayers and faith on my behalf.   So I get to glut myself for Thanksgiving and then go on my low-iodine diet and stop taking my meds on Saturday in preparation for the radioactive iodine.  

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Now lest I continue with idle prattle if anyone sees a possessed woman with a glowing seashell around her neck, text me.  I need to send my prince off to smash it.

Cheap therapy

The week prior to my surgery my cousin lost her sweet daughter in an auto-pedestrian accident.  She was only 18 months old. She blessed this earth for only 566 days. That is too short.   It is a tragic and horrible thing to have to bury one so small. As I felt helpless in trying to figure out what I could do for her I remembered reading on a friends blog about when she lost her daughter.  She was so mad she said she just felt like breaking something.  She had said this at a friends home and that sweet woman went to her cupboard and picked up one of her china plates and handed it to her and said chuck it. I have always remembered that.

One month later I opened my kitchen cupboard and reminded Josh that he didn't like the plates and bowls we had, and that paper goods were doing just fine for us anyway.  I packed a laundry basket full of dishes and went down to her house.  My sis-in-law met me there and at first it was a little awkward.  I was there to offer support but it was also the first time I had seen her since my diagnosis.  After hugs and trying to figure out what to say I explained the reason for the dishes.  I said that I have had moments where I just wanted to break something and thought she might have had a few of those herself.  And then I asked if she wanted to go outside and break them. I loved my sis-in-law's reaction...."i've never broken a dish on purpose before!"  We went out to a small cement pad in her backyard. It was just perfect, like it was purposely created to throw dishes onto.

The sound of breaking glass/ceramics is an awesome one. Especially when done on purpose.  It's a little nerve wrecking when you hear it in a crowded restaurant knowing some poor waiter dropped it on accident. That fall day the three of us stood around this cement pad and poured out our frustrations.  As we held each item we said something that made us mad, angry or just so sad and then proceeded to throw and smash dish after dish.  We cried and laughed and yelled and it was incredible.  And then as any good mamas would do we grabbed the brooms and cleaned up our mess.  

Breaking dishes really solved nothing, but leaving that day somehow I felt better.  That the anger I had been feeling inside had an outlet and was OK.   I highly recommend it for anyone that is having a hard time.   Heck, I even have a few dishes left in my cupboard come on over and we'll break them.  

The hardest moment so far....

Throughout this journey there have been days where I will feel ok, and then the next second I start crying.  My toddler and I are in mini-meltdown mode.
The second week after my surgery Joshua said, "Mom, my neck hurts" and bent his head to the side. There on the side of his neck was a lump about the size of a large marble.  Seriously?!  I thought this can't be happening.   So I scheduled him for a doctor appointment the next day.  Josh was at work and I took the boys to the doctor.  I was ok and mentally prepared myself for being in public and talking to people.  When we got there I explained to the doctor about my situation with the cancer and vocal cord. I told him I was extremely anxious about Joshua and just wanted to have him checked out.   We decided to have his blood drawn and then do a round of antibiotics to see if it would go down.   As a nurse this was basically what I expected.  So I explained to Joshua that they had to take some of his blood. He knew what this required having seen me have my blood drawn many times.  I told him he could do it.  I let him watch Jake and the Neverland pirates on my phone, (thank you distractions) and the first nurse came in.  She tried and missed.  Now I know that happens having missed plenty of times myself.  But I still was almost at the point to draw it myself.  So the second nurse came in and brought two others with her to hold him down.  When he had just sat still during the first attempt.  I tried to tell her he would hold still if she just explained things to him.  She sort of brushed me off and started to position him and put the tourniquet on.  Anyone who has worked pediatrics knows that the tourniquet is the worst part and makes the kid freak out. Which is exactly what Joshua did. He stood up on the table and started screaming.  The nurses were trying to grab him and I was trying to calm him down.  The only problem was he couldn't hear me.   I'm the mom and I couldn't comfort my frightened child because he couldn't hear me.  I was so upset I turned to the nurses and had them stop and back away.  Then with one arm holding Mark I half climbed onto the exam table and grabbed Joshua and pulled him down so I could whisper in his ear.  I again explained to him that moving makes it worse and they want to hold you down but if you trust mama I will hold you and you can do this.  Still holding Mark I held Joshua "down" with one arm, he was crying, Mark was crying and I was crying.  After the 4 vials were filled he sat up and I just held him.  The nurse said he was so brave she gave him 2 suckers.  Unfortunately Mark also had to get a shot and I had to hold him down also.  When he was done Joshua leaned over and gave him a kiss and held out one of his suckers.  He is such a loving big brother.
We are just about done with the antibiotics (2nd round) and his lump is significantly smaller.  We are hopeful it's just an overactive lymph node.

A letter

Dear Yoga stranger,

Thank you for kindness the other day.  I was very nervous to go to a class but felt like I needed to exercise.  I was explaining the whole cancer thing to the instructor and when I got to the part where I don't know when i'll have to do radioactive iodine you just come over and hugged me.    You didn't say anything and it was a brief hug but it was enough.    In our world of technology a hashtag or little heart symbol can only do so much.  So thank you.  That hug buoyed me up and kept be going.  And thank you for sending a smile my way when I snuck out only lasting a little while.

namaste

Josh's update

Hi all,

I thought I’d give you an update on how Sherri is doing. She is feeling better every week with some rough days and some better days. She’s on a low hormone dose until she does the radioactive iodine and that is really affecting her energy levels. I’m back at work full time, but I haven’t actually had a week where I didn’t take time off yet since her surgery. She is able to take care of the children while I’m at work but doesn’t have a whole lot of energy for much else and I often end up getting in to work late and leaving early to help with things. We are able to do the necessary things to keep afloat and a lot of the other things can wait.

Thank you to all that have helped in any way during this hard time.

On Sunday Sherri went to sacrament meeting, (http://www.mormonnewsroom.org/article/sacrament-meeting) for the first time since her surgery. There was a musical number where our neighbors sang as a family. That was hard for Sherri because it hit her that she’ll probably not be able to do that with her family. She has expressed her (left recurrent laryngeal) nerve having been cut is definitely the hardest thing she is dealing with right now. It’s especially frustrating sometimes for both of us because it’s so rare (about 1 in 200). The doctor said he’s only cut one other RLN nerve before and that was 15 years ago. Nerve damage occurs more frequently (5% to 15%) but much of the damage being temporary. About 2-3% end up with permanent nerve damage with some fraction of that having complete Unilateral Vocal Fold Paralysis (UVFP).

The speech therapist says Sherri has done extremely well and is very surprised by how well she can talk. She still has to concentrate very hard to swallow so she doesn’t aspirate her food or drink. She has exercises to strengthen her voice. I took her out on a date on Saturday night and we went to a sushi place at 7 but it was too loud for her to speak over the noise so we left and came back at 9 when it was quiet.

Sherri is having labs drawn today to determine whether there are chemical indications of significant tumor mass remaining. She’ll have an ultrasound on her neck to look for tumors on Friday. If those tests indicate she does not have a lot of cancer mass in her body, they will put her on a low iodine diet and stop her thyroid medication for two weeks. This will probably cause her to feel tired and unwell to some degree and may affect her reaction times enough to prohibit her from driving. After the 2 weeks (probably a week after Thanksgiving), she will get a dose of radioactive iodine (RAI) to target and destroy any remaining thyroid (cancer) tissue in her body.

If the tests this week indicate she has substantial cancer tissue remaining, they will send her back for additional operations to remove it before she has RAI treatment. This obviously would introduce additional risks.  In fact, when the cancer was found in 3 of 5 lymph nodes, the surgeon considered a possible follow up surgery to remove more lymph nodes but after consulting colleagues he decided that the risk to the remaining functional RLN nerve was too great. If the other nerve is damaged, she would need a tracheotomy in order to breathe. While the risk of permanent damage to that remaining nerve is small (2-3%), it is still significant.

Naturally, we are hoping and praying for no more surgery and that RAI treatment takes care of the cancer for good. Sherri will be isolated for about 4 days while she is radioactive. RAI often affects taste and sometimes causes painful inflammation in salivary glands for weeks to months.

Sometime after reviewing the lab results and ultrasound and perhaps even after the RAI treatment, the endocrinologist will give Sherri a final cancer staging. It will be stage I or II. They have already ruled out stage III and IV cancer. We will let you know what we find out.

Thank you for your prayers and support!

Singing in the Rain

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1ZYhVpdXbQ)

We have felt like it's raining here some days and so we just sing, or the kids sing and dance and I enjoy and watch.  This post is so we can look back and laugh at everything that's happened here's a list of everything that's broken since we started this journey:

-washing machine

-Toyota  battery

-Honda  battery

-Honda wind shield (giant crack snaked down a little too far)

-vacuum cleaner

-furnace

-dryer 

-kitchen chair

Thank goodness I married myself a handyman.  The joke has been when Josh gets home I tell him something new that's broken that he gets to put on his list.  

I found this gem when I was looking through some old pics and had to share.  It's my Gracie girl when she was 3. 

Coping

(http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=i2dlXZo348w)

When you get hit with a life changer you find ways to cope. At the Gunn household it was/is cat videos. YouTube cat videos. There are millions of them and they make us laugh. That first week after we would eat dinner, (thank you again neighbors!) and either while eating or during clean up we would turn on video after video just to laugh. It felt so good to laugh at something that was so silly and only a few minutes long.  Laughter truly is the best medicine. Distractions are great too. I wait for the time when evening comes and I know we get to watch videos and snuggle and laugh.  Most nights Josh would put the kids down while I held and rocked the baby and then we would snuggle on the couch and watch a movie.  You get lost in a movie. So for 90 minutes you are somewhere else and you can almost feel normal again.

Enjoy some of our favorites:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgjXG_9L_Jw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl1RwhATTzA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Bmhjf0rKe8

We have always loved reading together as a family and we take turns reading out loud.  Lately we've been into The Candy Shop War,  and pile into our bed and listen to Josh read.  I love it.  Whenever he pauses one child will instantly say, "Keep reading!".   We finished The Secret Zoo the week before my surgery and I read that one out loud.  Reading out loud is just such a wonderful way to connect and escape with your kids to far off adventures!

This particular night Joshua and I were too bushed to stay awake to listen!

Grocery store

I haven't been grocery shopping yet. Thanks to my husband, mom and mother-in-law I haven't needed to. And that's just what I want.  I have some friends and blogs that I follow that have dealt with great loss and tragedy in their lives and I find it interesting that the one place that they all fear is the grocery store.  I remember reading that and thinking well that's just silly, it's just a store. I run to the store a few times a week! And that's the problem.  For me I realized I fear it because that's the old mom.  That's the normal mom.  That's the woman who would lug all four kids in and conquer the list and menu and come home and put stuff away and make dinner and help with homework and be just normal.  I'm scared of getting in there and not having enough energy to get out.  (Come on people, Wal-mart is scary enough on a full tank!)  I'm scared of having a mini panic attack when the cashier can't hear me.

The first week that I was driving the kids to all their activities I was tired and the boys were grumpy because I had to leave them buckled in while we waited because I didn't have the energy to chase them around the building.  So I did what any good mom does...I drove to Wendy's to get us all a Frosty.  The guy couldn't hear/understand me. I felt like I was yelling.  I used my diaphragm and was working so hard and he totally didn't get it right.  So we pulled through and I went to McDonald's to get me a smoothie thinking it would be better. Nope. Still had to say it 4 or 5 times.  Granted I know that drive-thru technology is still lacking and pretty much a guessing game on both sides but that day it was awful.  So I retreated back to my house vowing not to use the drive-thru ever again.

The Incredible Gunns

(http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=IsRcH2-1mh8)

Halloween came.  I vowed to be as normal as possible.  Since my children plan their costumes a year in advance we were ready before I went in for surgery.  Grace loves family themes and we humor her. She made the masks herself this year. It was fitting that the costumes were pre chosen because we needed to feel Incredible and the best way to do that is to don red spandex, fill yourself with stuffing and walk around in black boots.

The Incredible Gunns 2014

Mr. Incredible is my husband. Seriously no joke. I think he's going bowling, but nope out saving people, mostly just me.  

Joshua was Dash and anyone that knows him this knows how accurate this is.  He runs laps around the house daily and refused to wear the "G" and had to have the "i" on his chest because he really was Dash.  I love this picture.  He said, "I'm smiling even though you can't see my smile".  I was so sad when he came home from preschool.  I opened the door and the first thing he said was, "Next time I will not wear my underwear on the outside."  I hate when kids say mean things.  He was so excited when we got out of the car to go to preschool.  I called out and said, "I love you Dash!", to which he replied, "Goodbye Elastagirl".  He then proceeded to run really fast up to the sidewalk, and then marched inside the door. 

Josh's aunt stopped by for a visit on Halloween and was this cleaning whirlwind.  She sent me upstairs for a nap and I came down and the house was clean, the laundry folded, like seriously everything scrubbed.  It felt soooo good. Best Halloween trick ever!

We had dinner with friends and then went trick-or-treating.  I made it a block but it was so wonderful to be out and enjoying things.  Life is good.  Oh so good. 

Help

(http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yWP6Qki8mWc
Ahh the Beatles. Classic)

I had my first panic attack on Saturday at our ward Hoe Down.  (Ward explanation:
http://www.mormon.org/faq/ward-stake-branch)
On the calendar was this ward function and the whole time I was just planning on sending Josh and the kids. Then Saturday arrives and I start to get angry that the cancer is stopping me from enjoying my life. Josh asked me if I was going to be ok and I told him that I didn't want the cancer to ruin my life. If I hadn't just been through what I had we would pack the kids in the car and go and that was exactly what I wanted to do.  Put on a happy face and pretend things were good.  So we did.  We got there and it was good to be out of the house. It was good to see friendly and caring faces and it horrible the second I heard the music.  It was loud and it was country and it was right by the tables where everyone was sitting.   Now I was working really hard to be heard above a whisper this was darn near impossible.   So I got in the chili line with the kids and had to bend down and yell (whisper as loud as I could) in their ears to ask them what they wanted.  Then when we sat down everyone came to ask how I was doing. Bless my husband. He was trying to field all the questions from every side and take care of the kids and somehow eat himself.  I was still very uncomfortable eating in front of anyone and had to duck my head with each bite. There was a cup of water in front of me but I dared not drink in case I started choking. I was grateful that it was chili and somewhat easy to swallow.  The kids wanted to go feed some chickens so josh took the older ones and I was left without my knight to defend me.  I told him to go and kept telling myself I could do this.  But it quickly became apparent that I couldn't.  The baby was fussy and I was too weak to wrestle with him.  I could see Josh a ways off but couldn't call to him. So I had to go close to him and urgently whisper that we needed to go.  I have never felt so physically safe and protected inside my own home as I did that night. As we drove up our long driveway I felt instantly safe.  Nobody was looking at me, I didn't have to talk, I could eat and cough and gag and it wasn't a big deal.

Why is it so hard to ask for help? Why are we so prideful that we can't ask? Why does it make me feel like merely asking implies that I am incapable and therefore worthless.

  I had my second panic attack the following week when I was on my own meaning Josh had gone back to work but usually ended up coming home early because I called him crying.  It was Friday and I had decided that no matter what I wasn't going to call him. We had suffered with the stomach flu all week with each child picking a different night to be awake and throwing up. It went mostly well until the afternoon. That's usually when it gets hard for me and today my throat was really tight. It was getting harder to breathe and swallow. Josh had texted a few times and I gave non-committal replies.   He tried calling but I knew if I answered he'd come home.  (That's just who he is. He gets up and goes to work after taking the girls to school, works all day, comes home and does laundry, cleans up dinner, bathes and gets kids to bed then stays up until midnight working.  He's amazing and I love him more today than ever.)
So I layed on the floor and tried to focus on breathing. I tried to play with the baby but was having a hard time.  I texted a few people trying to non challantley set up playdates but nothing worked out.  I needed help but didn't know how to ask.  It's so hard.  It's hard because everyone says, "Give me a call if you ever need anything" or "let me know if I can help".  But actually calling them is really, really hard.
But through all this I have been blessed by so many angels.  People who have just shown up on my doorstep with meals when I couldn't even think about cooking.  They have fed us and cared for us. A dear friend showed up just to do my dishes and left, another came by at night with her bucket of cleaning supplies and said I'm here to clean your bathrooms and then did just that.  I have been sent boxes of sunshine, flowers,  notes of love and prayers. People have picked up my kids and came and cried with me.  I have been buoyed by their strength and kindness.  To all of you angels thank you.  You will never know the depth of my gratitude and love.
That day of panic I came across this and again felt encouragement from on high:
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2zk2tyEM9i8

Questions

(http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=h1vJ7ARCdG
I feel like I'm the singer asking all these questions and expecting the answer I want when I'm given all sorts of random ones!)

week #1 we had help during the day since  I was still very weak and tired.  Everyday felt like forever.   Being members of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints we are fortunate to have a built in system ready to help at a moments notice.  They had meals brought in to help keep us a float.

I had my postop appointment and had a very large tube put in my nose and down my neck to take pictures of the paralyzed cord. But before they do the shovin they spray some stuff that smells and tastes like dirt that has been recently fertilized.   (Just keepin it real and telling you all the good stuff!:-)  This test was almost as bad as the neck biopsy.  Scale of 1-10, 8.8, with the biopsy being the 8.9. 9 of course is reserved for giving birth with your femur bone cracked in half.  And all my births have been done with intact femurs so I have no idea.  Anyway with the test we saw that there was no movement on the left side.  But as I talked to everyone they would always reply with shock that I sounded as good as I did.  This is all due to another tender mercy in my life.  The place where my vocal cord "froze" is great. It's almost in the middle.  If it had been stuck closer to the outer edge I would be a lot more raspy and singing would be definitely impossible.  Amazing what a few millimeters can mean for my quality of life.  As for now my right side is working overtime to try and reach across the center to meet the left fold.  It is tiring talking.  If I don't rest my voice a few times a day I get extremely tired.  Of course this is hard to do with an overly talkative 4 year old who likes to have a running conversation the entire day. Hello Jake and the Neverland pirates!
At that visit we also learned a little more about the cancer. We learned that it had spread. They removed 4 lymph nodes at the time of the surgery and 3 came back positive for the cancer. Which means I have metastatic papillary thyroid carcinoma.  While this doesn't change my prognosis it could change how it's treated.  So now we wait.  We wait for more tests and more unknowns and more results.

Silence is Golden

This is the title of my blog because this song runs around inside my head all the time.

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=n03g8nsaBro

Noise. It is my worst enemy. I never noticed how noisy our world is until I became unable to compete with it.

I love to talk. Anyone who knows me knows I love to talk.  From my childhood I remember many a family dinner with everyone done eating and my plate full because I had talked the entire meal.  My mom's words. "Sherri, stop talking and start eating." Funny, I have had to repeat those same words to my children. :-)
I can't think of one parent/teacher conference where it didn't go something like this, "Sherri's a good student, she just talks too much!" Even in college in nursing school I had a few teachers pull me aside and remind me to stop talking.   I remember hating silence. Seriosuly if a teacher stands up at the front of a room and there is silence I would feel this primitive urge to open my mouth.
Now that silence is my friend. It means I can be still and not have to say anything. It also means that if I choose to open my mouth I can be heard.

The good cancer

Every thyroid cancer blog i've read has a post similar to this one.  

(A lot of conversations go something like this)
"I have cancer." (Which saying out loud is really hard to do. It's acknowledging something that you are wishing would go away)
" Oh. (Awkward pause) I am so sorry. What kind?"
"Thyroid"
"Oh that's good. At least it's treatable and the best kind to get."

Yes you are right. If I had to choose a cancer this would be the one i'd pick.  But that doesn't make it easy, or less scary, or easier on my husband.   It doesn't mean that with good odds i'd like to take a chance and gamble.   It's hard because at times I felt like when I explained that it was thyroid cancer I was actually brushed off. "Oh my sister-in-law had that and she had an easy recovery." It seems as if everyone knows someone who has had thyroid cancer and dealt with it easily.

But if there is one thing I would like to share is that cancer is cancer.  You feel like there is an alien invasion inside of you and you don't know how to stop it.   I loved talking to my friends husband one day. He saw me out on a walk and asked how I was doing. (Another one of my least favorite questions.  How do you answer? ! Good? Awful?) Anyway he wanted to tell me about when they found out.  He said they were driving and his wife got a text and immediately started crying. He was concerned and asked what happened. She said Sherri Gunn has cancer.  He asked what kind and she said, "Does it matter?"  When he told me that I started crying also because she got it. She understood that although I have a great prognosis, and know that so many are diagnosed with awful diseases and I should consider myself lucky, I am also struggling with having my life turned upside down.

Homeward bound

The next morning Dr. M. came in to remove the drain.  How do you remove a drain? Think 3rd grade tug of war with your neck being the losing team.  After recess was over we asked him a lot of questions.  He reassured us that he has never had a patient die from papillary carcinoma. That I was young and had an excellent prognosis.  In fact because of my age I could only be in stage 1 or 2 because the requirements for stage 3 or 4 was older than 45.  He also explained that he was surprised I had felt the lumps.  He said it was divine inspiration for sure because they were so small.  That's why they had begun to close me up, they hadn't thought it was cancer at all.  He said that it was while removing the left side they saw that they had cut my nerve.  I whispered and asked if he had done it before and he said only once 15 years ago.  I was one of those rare cases.

When you have a paralyzed vocal cord swallowing is difficult,  especially right after surgery.  Water is the worst. As I lay there my nurses training kicked in and I would tuck my chin down when I swallowed. I thought of some of the stroke patients I had taken care of.  We got online and I ordered thick-it a nasty thickiner but wonderful in making it so I didn't choke.  Taking pills is awful and I would gag and sorta cough and gag again.  We were released from the hospital that day and then our kids were brought home on Sunday.  

Most of the time I whispered because it was so much easier.  Funny thing about whispering.....people around you whisper back.  I would be saying something to Josh and he would whisper a reply. I smiled and reminded him that he had a voice.  When our kids arrived it really hit home that I was different.   I'm the mom.  I call upstairs to come to dinner.  I call outside to come in from playing.  We sing and talk all day long.  Now I had this raspy voice that had no volume.  In my head I kept saying it's ok you're going to be ok.

That first night my baby was back he was mad and fussy.  I held him but couldn't for very long.   I sat in the boys room in the rocker and Josh sat beside us. I have sung every night I have put my kids to bed. Josh and I usually sang a spider web duet song to the kids. I had a made up song for changing diapers and for taking naps, I sang them the good morning song from singing in the rain to wake them up. I even taught a music class once a week for most of my children's lives. I love to sing.  When you are incapable of doing something that was so natural to your body and soul you have to really focus on the positive or else you get depressed.   That night as Josh sang for me while I held the baby I was so frustrated.  And baby could tell so he started to fuss so I put him on my chest and hummed.  I was only able to hum a few bars of I am a child of God but it instantly calmed him.  It took so much effort, like running up a mountain. The breathing part was the hardest, but I was so proud of myself.  Josh was so proud of me.  I told myself then that I would sing again. It may be a baritone and it may take some time but I will get there. I don't need to sing for anyone but myself and my kids.

October 17th - T-day

(The day had come even though I had hoped we'd just skip the 17th of the month of October.    This is my "before" picture, except in this case the before is the better looking one and the after is the scary one!)

The night before I drove the kids down to my in-laws.  I hated packing their suit cases.  I hated that their life was being interrupted by some stupid little nodules on my thyroid.  I hated that I had to wean breastfeeding my youngest because I was going to have surgery.  Granted the older kids were excited for their grandparent vacation and so we just kept things upbeat.  When we arrived the kids ran in and my mom-in-law gave me a hug. I kept up a brave face and waved to the kids.  I was doing fine until I had to put the baby in grandma's arms and leave him. He was kicking and screaming.  He did not want me to leave him and I did not want to go, I had a good cry on the way home.    All of the uncertainty was coming to a head and I was a basket case.  My husband and I had decided to go on a date since the kids were away.  We were going to meet up at Cafe Rio and I was a little early so I called him to see where he was.  I got his voice mail at work and for some strange reason decided to leave a message and as I was thinking of what to say a song popped into my head so I sang, "I just called to say I love you".   This proved to be no accident but a tender mercy.

That night as we got ready for bed Josh asked if I had packed yet.  Nope. Nada.  If I don't pack I don't have to go.  It was so surreal packing for a trip to the hospital with no baby inside of me.  Usually the packing meant the baby was coming which was something to look forward to.  Not this time, but we were hopeful that I'd just have a partial thyroidectomy and be home the next day...feeling better the next week.

We went in and I was nervous.  In the back of my mind I thought it might be cancer but I kept pushing those thoughts away with positive thinking.  I got into their lovely papery gown, (Which was uber cool because it had a patient warming system that could hook up to it and keep warm air on me the whole time.  First time coming out of anesthesia WITHOUT shaking violently!) donned a blue cap, met with the anesthesiologist who gave me a miracle sticker to put behind my ear to help me not get nauseous, kissed my husband and was wheeled into the operating room.

As I so gracefully scooted in a paper gown from one gurney to another I started to panic.  As they put the oxygen mask over my face I began to cry.  As I looked up into the bright light blinding me I began to sob.  My doctor, Dr. M., came over and patted my shoulder and bent down and said in my ear, "you're going to be fine".  Then as I felt my body start to calm thanks to whatever they had put in my IV I could hear some oldies music playing, and saw my doctor start to dance and I smiled as I drifted off to Neverland.

As I began to come out of the fog I could feel my husband near me before I even opened my eyes.  He was holding my hand and rubbing it.  I remember laying on my side and Josh being really close to my face.  I knew something happened just by looking at him.  He said, "honey, they had to remove all of your thyroid because you have cancer."

CANCER

One of the ugliest words in our language.  A frightening and awful word.  It bounced around in my foggy brain a while.  I hoarsely whispered what kind.  The preliminary results were papillary but we would know more after the pathology report was back.  Ugh.  I asked him what happened and he told me about his ordeal.

He was alone in the waiting room because my parents were out of the country, and his were tending our flock.  Alone he waited for the 1 hr 20 min surgery to be done.  At 1 hr 30 min he began to get nervous at 2 hours he was researching everything on thyroid cancer and at close to 3 hours he sighed in relief when my name went from the OR color to the recovery room color on the monitor.  That's when our doctor looking somber asked him to join him in the conference room. Not a good sign.  My poor husband.  I can't imagine doing that alone.  The doctor explained to him that they had successfully removed the right lobe and sent it down to the lab and started closing me up.  Then the lab called and said they found cancer in the right side and to remove the left.  He stopped his story there as I was riding the morphine wave and needed to rest.  He also said he needed to go for a walk and left pretty emotional.

 A little later when I was more coherent Josh held my hand and explained there were complications.  The doctor had severed my left laryngeal nerve which was why my voice wasn't working.  Wow talk about double whammy.   As I tried to process what that meant I had a flashback.  I was on my knees praying.  For the past year or more I have been on my knees praying and asking Heavenly Father for help in not yelling at my kids.  I hate yelling and I hate that I lose my temper at the kids now and again.  I have admired some close friends in their ability to talk patiently to their kids and the soft voice they use.  One night in particular I remember explaining to God why I thought it was easier for them, they naturally had a soft voice all the time.  I told him I naturally had a loud and commanding voice so sometimes even if I said things nicely they came out sounding bossy.  If I only had a soft voice then even if I was stern it wouldn't be so harsh.  Well, be careful what you pray for. =)  As Josh was holding my hand I said, "my prayers were answered and now I have a soft voice".   And then we cried and mourned and cried a bit more.  

That night as we were getting ready for bed Josh opened the scriptures to where we were. (We have 4 books we read from, the Holy Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price.)  We had just finished Doctrine and Covenants 97 the night before and so he opened to chapter 98.  Sitting in that dark hospital room that felt so heavy he began to read: 

Verily I say unto you my friends, fear not, let your hearts be comforted; yea, rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks;

 2 Waiting patiently on the Lord, for your prayers have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, and are recorded with this seal and testament—the Lord hath sworn and decreed that they shall be granted.

 3 Therefore, he giveth this promise unto you, with an immutable covenant that they shall be fulfilled; and all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord.

It was as if someone had removed the barbell from my heart.  We both began to cry as we realized we had been given a very specific message from our Heavenly Father.  In that moment I realized that whatever was ahead, whatever else we were given it would be ok.  I would give thanks and I knew that I was not alone.  We were not alone.  My "voice" was heard and my pain and heartache was felt by someone else, my Savior.  

(The after glamour shot.)

At the beginning (with you)

One month. 4 weeks. 31 days since I was "me".  Since I heard the word cancer and associated it with my body.   One month ago I was diagnosed with papillary thyroid cancer and while having my thyroid removed the surgeon accidentally severed my left laryngeal nerve paralyzing my left vocal cord.  This is my story.

I am an LDS 32 year old mother of 4, married to an amazing man living the dream on our little acre of Eden.  In the spring of 2014 I started feeling like someone was putting their hand on my throat every time I swallowed.  And since I had been diagnosed with hypothyroidism after my 3rd child I went in to have levels drawn.  They came back barely low so they increased my dosage and sent me for an ultrasound.   The ultrasound revealed 3 nodules on the right side.  So I was sent for a fine needle biopsy. (That was the worst test I have ever had done. I would rather give birth a dozen more times than do that one again! )  The biopsy results came back indeterminate.  Which is a giant really lame word that means they don't know. My doctor recommended surgery and I said let's wait. Denial was my greatest ally. So in April we set a surgical date for October.  My husband jokes that I strategically placed it on the day before the hunt but I truly had no control over which Friday they chose.

When you are in denial you can pretend that life is normal but really there is always a proverbial elephant in the room.  Cue Murphy.  Murphy's law states that when you are trying your hardest to eat right, get in shape and take care of yourself something will go wrong.  Enter torn right patellar knee flap, full leg immobilizer,  many hours of physical therapy and all around annoyance. (Funny image- try changing a diaper on the floor with a squirming baby while keeping your leg completely straight. Even funnier- try driving while keeping said right leg straight and using the tippy top of the gas pedal and breaking with your left foot).

So after we got all that fun stuff out of the way, family weddings and reunions and all of the birthday's for the year I focused on preparing for surgery.  Preparing meant going into cleaning gear.  My husband said it felt like I was nesting for a baby. To which I explained that I didn't know how I was going to feel after and if my first diagnosis of hypothyroidism was any indication we were in for a doosey since I had layed on the floor for a week before going to a doctor.   So in my cleaning frenzy I decided to redo the living room and found mold in preparing to paint.  Mold remediation commenced and life continued. A routine dentist visit discovered my 4 year old needed to have his tonsils out. We were able to schedule that for one month prior to my surgery.  His was a success and they moved the furniture back in the night before. Phew.