Goodbye 2017… Pt. 2

January 9, 2018

Winter had arrived, Christmas was around the corner, and here I was in a whole slew of a health mess.  I remember driving to my biopsy appointment for my thyroid nodule.  It was just myself, and the twins.  The older two had been dropped off at school, and I was to meet my husband at the hospital, as he worked there the night before. The drive seemed long, tense, and full of emotions.

As I entered the room, which was an ultrasound room, I began to almost loose it.  Between what was going on, and past memories of me sitting there in that very same room three years previous, viewing my bouncing twin boys on the screen, I just couldn’t hold in another ounce more.  How could I be here?  I carried two, 8 lbs babies to term, not that long ago… I was blessed to have done that.  I was blessed to have healthy twins, with no complications for them or myself.  How now, did I become so unblessed?  As I tried to hold back the tears from falling, the US tech asked me some questions, and tried to converse in light mood (but I knew she could tell I was nervous…)

Before I knew it, the room filled with more people.  The doctor who would be performing the FNT biopsy, along with some scientific doctors that were to view the fluid the doctor retrieved from the nodule, making sure it was what they needed to send in for further testing. They tried to talk about the upcoming holidays, they tried to make me feel comfortable, but I was so numb.  I lyed there as still as could be, listening to them… wondering if I was even going to have a good Christmas? The fate of my results was out of my hands.  All of this mess was out of my hands.  I didn’t like it.  I have always been in control of my life, and own self.

At last I was done. They retrieved five different samples, all of which were to be good. The wait game started… This period I don’t remember much. I think I just kind of blacked out. I got the results and breathed another sigh of relief.  It was benign. I was thankful.  However, I still found myself in a deep dark hole in the weeks to follow.  Each day a harder struggle than the last. Just trying to stay together enough to take care of my children, which was suddenly becoming an immense task. The last thing I wanted them to see was a mom who was falling a part. I think that’s when I hit rock bottom.  Starting to come to grips with what was really happening.  I wasn’t quite there yet, though.

Back to those heart palpitations I talked about in the beginning.  They were becoming more frequent, lasting longer, harder… scaring every ounce of me.  My doctor ordered me to do a 48 hour heart monitor. I wore it feeling comforted.  I turned it back in, and more bad news.  An irregular heart rhythm was detected. She wanted to seek further into it with a cardiologist.  I met with him, and he advised that I do a full month.  Every day, all day, I was hooked up to electrodes monitoring every beat of my heart.  I felt at comfort again, as if it was my security blanket.  The palpitations became fewer and fewer, lasting just a few seconds, as opposed to minutes. The month came to an end, and I turned it back in waiting eagerly to hear the results of it.

I showed up to my cardiologist appointment rather calm.  I had been through so much over the last few months, that this was becoming routine to me.  I sat in the chair, listening to him flip through the pages of my heart rhythms.  He came in, sat down, looked me in the eye, and said: “The good news, I didn’t see anything alarming.”  What?  All of this, and I was ok? Again?  He told me he couldn’t be certain as to why I was having the palpitations so frequently, but that they were a lot more normal than most people think.  He went on to say that a lot of people never feel them… I was just one of the few who did. The biggest thing he told me, is that they were NOT going to kill me. So, I left with one foot in front of the other… I am ok, I am ok, I think I am ok… {Pt. 3 final chapter to conclude next.}


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