Well to catch everyone up.
(I apparently never took this out of drafts, oops. I had surgery in September 2015).
I went to my regular doctor- was told the left side of my neck was enlarged. I was told I would need to get an ultrasound on my neck. Did that and found a thyroid nodule on my left thyroid and was referred to and eyes/ears/throat Doctor.
I went to this doctor and I found out that my thyroid nodule was solid, meaning it was a tumor. My options were:
1. Wait it out for six months then get an ultrasound on my neck, and see if it became larger. (Con: I’m a worry wart. Six months of worrying).
2. Do a biopsy on it to test if it was cancerous. (Con: multiple false negatives happen with this).
3. Have surgery. He would go in, test the tumor. Benign- would only cause him to take out the left side. Cancerous- he’d take both sides. (Con: he fucks up during surgery and I could lose the use of my vocal cords).
I chose surgery. With this doctor as my surgeon. He was amazing mind you.
I was so fucking scared because this was my first surgery ever. I cried while in pre-op because I wanted my husband, who is currently deployed.. I cried because I was unable to tell him any of what had be going on since he didn’t have any way to communicate.
The surgery went well. The tumor on my thyroid was benign, he removed the left side of my thyroid. I did not say loopy shit that normal people spout after doses of anesthesia. I was probably more mean that anything lol. My anti-tattoo older sister, she’s thirty seven-I’m twenty one, hadn’t seen my two forearm tattoos and asked me “what are those?” Only a few minutes of being in the room with me. My response: “Tattoos. On my arm. Deal with it.” I’m very proud of myself even if I was drugged up because usually I bitch out when it comes to my older sister.
The first day SUCKED. I had a drain connected to a tube connected to my neck for 24 hours for it to drain.