The Furies

Abused, disappointed,

Raging, I come--oh, shall come!---

And drip from my heart

A hurt on your soil, a contagion,

A culture, a canker:

Leafless and childless Revenge.

                                                                               -Aeschylus, from The Eumenides


Today was a rough day.  Well, it really was yesterday, but I was moving too fast to see it.  I started the morning at the endocrinologist, where I received great news. Based on my January lab results and my scan, I was now moving on to appointments every six months! I told him I was feeling a little better as far as thyroid symptoms, but things were still off.  He said my TSH was over-surpressed by my old doctor (to 0.03!!!).  He said there was good news in this. "Yeah?" I perked up and looked at him.

"Now you know what being on cocaine is like..."

I like that he sees the bright side in everything.  Honestly, he told me that pending my blood results, he's excited to see I'm coming along. He ordered more TSH levels to see that I moved appropriately to a level of 1-2.5 (should be to about 2 by now). He also rechecked my parathyroid hormone and my calcium levels. He was trying to figure out what was contributing to the pain in my leg and other bones throughout my body, as well as all of these odd things.

I stopped to get my blood drawn, made small talk with the phlebotomist, and headed back to Tullahoma for another appointment.  By then I was exhausted from the driving, waiting, and talking about important things, but I tried to perk up. This was my therapist, after all, and I knew that it could get ugly if I walked into the room in a bad mood.

I would say the appointment went well. I was still feeling good from being told that my appointments were being stretched out, and I felt that for the first time in a while, I was able to get a handle on things. For anyone that thinks it is a picnic to be home and recovering, I'd like to paint a different picture for you:

There are some days where I have to muster all of my energy just to get the kids to school and remember what they need. It will exhaust me to take a shower, and the bone pain of standing, walking around the house, or heaven-forbid taking a walk outside can be enough to bring me to tears. On the days/weeks when I have all of the energy in the world, I get things done at record speed. I have all of these exciting plans, and I am active in everything. The problem is I can't really feel pain during that time, so I tend to overdo or injure myself, and not even notice until I resume my normal level. It's confusing, but I'll sum it up as saying it can be hellish.  I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

But I was excited that day, because as I left my therapist and headed home, I'd be picking up Carly and babysitting my niece and nephew! They were in town from Washington, and I'd be watching them while my sister-in-law got her hair done. I was admittedly tired at that point, but I knew seeing their smiling faces would make it all go away.

Right before they arrived at the house, I got a phone call. I knew it was from my doctor's office, but I wasn't too surprised. They are awesome, and tend to call me to fill me in as they get lab results.  This time, though, the nurse's voice seemed a little more concerned than usual.

"Hey, Michelle, how are you feeling?"

I told her I was fine, and getting ready to fill the house with tons of little ones.  She wasn't up for small-talk.

"Well, Dr. Kistka wanted me to call you because we got your TSH levels back. Your TSH is STILL under the reference level, which is pretty abnormal. You are taking 112mcg of Synthroid, and your TSH is still at 0.45,  It should have been at 2 by now."

I didn't really know what to tell her. I had seemed to get a crash-course education in thyroids over the past year, but I didn't know anything about the other glands and what they did.  So, I just waited for her to resume talking.

"Dr. Kistka is worried about pituitary dysfunction."

At that point, I did interject, asking her what that even meant. I knew where the pituitary gland was (in the brain), but didn't know what this had to do with a person with thyroid cancer.

"Well, your PTH levels have been abnormally high for months, and your calcium isn't regulating. We don't think this has to do with your surgery, but may have just revved it up a bit. Your pituitary is in charge of all of that, and when something throws it off, it can make your whole body a mess."

Another question from me, "well, what threw it off?" I didn't have a lot of time for small talk; I had company walking through the door in a few moments.

"A tumor."

GREAT.... I hadn't heard that word in a while. I don't think it's a word you get used to hearing.

Now, keep in mind that a tumor on the pituitary gland can be tiny and still wreak havoc. All it takes is a small growth producing hormones and pressing on important things. I suddenly thought of the visual problems, the tremors, the abnormal heartbeats, all of the calcium issues and those side effects. This all might make sense, but it still wasn't what I wanted to hear.

She told me I was lowering my med dose again, and I thought to myself "this was almost the dose I was on when I actually had a thyroid??? What's going on with me?"  I thanked her for her help, and she told me she'd call me when they got the other results back.

Shortly after that call, the company did arrive. They served as a pleasant distraction, and I was able to put everything out of my mind for the evening. When my head hit the pillow last night, I was OUT. No room for thinking about the past or future.

The Furies hit this morning. I got up to take the kids to school, and then drove to run and errand. My mind began thinking about this path over the past few years, and all that has happened. Did the brain injury cause the growth in the brain? Did the endocrinologist miss the parathyroid adenoma? That scan was only 50% successful in finding tumors? The old endocrinologist seemed quite incompetent, so it seemed my natural reaction to be doubtful.  Were the visual problems caused by all of these things? That doctor was audibly gossiping about each patient in the hallway, and he even cast his negative opinion on me.

I didn't want to dwell on the past, and I don't like to be negative. Still, I wanted to round up all these doctors and scream, "WHY COULDN'T YOU HELP ME? WHY HAVE I LIVED THESE PAST FEW YEARS WITH MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS? AND MORE PAIN THAN COMFORT???"

I imagine this to be a bit of serendipity, or divine intervention. I had thought about The Furies, from Greek tragedies. They were females with one thing in mind: revenge. They would find those that had wronged people (criminals in their minds), and drive them to their own suicides through extreme despair.

I would like to interject here that I am NOT advocating suicide or revenge of this sort, only that I had remembered The Furies, after I mentally lined up all of those health professionals that had wronged me.

So I sat at home this evening, lying on my heating pad and hoping to finish a book before tomorrow. It's called "The Body Broken," and it's an absolutely lovely book. For anyone that wants to know what my life is like, or what the life of a friend or family member might be like that lives with chronic disabling pain, then this is the book to read. It's fantastically written, and it's like I am reading into a mirror.

So, I chuckled aloud when I came across the passage on The Furies. She had that "break" too! She had a moment when anger took over, and when she realized just how much comfort and time these people had stolen from her.

This moment was interesting for me (on what I felt today, and also what I read). You see, I never wanted to be vengeful; I always insisted on keeping a positive attitude.  In the wake of a student attack, people marveled at my positive outlook. When I took 37 pills JUST TO EXIST after that attack, I just thanked God that I survived. When I looked back at the crap I endured with my marriage, I said "I am just thankful, I got out, and that I can move on!" And when I got cancer, I was quick to say "thank goodness it's just thyroid cancer!"  Seriously, was my head in the clouds?

The people around me cheered on my bright attitude, but they must have known that it doesn't last forever.  Or maybe I fooled them; I did a pretty good job of fooling myself for a while.

But there's something that happens when it's a struggle to move your body off a heating pad without tears. This same body that ran miles and carried babies and loved yoga. And for a person that people joked would "get more done before 9am than most people did all day!" I was having a problem with taking a shower without losing strength some days.

My physiatrist gave me a thoughtful look when I "almost" cracked one day. I told her how hard this has been, and how I'm tired of not having all of the answers.  She told me it seems I do have a lot of answers, they just aren't cures. Unfortunately some of this won't go away for the rest of my life. The key is learning to manage it.

Yes, that's very insightful, but she needs to follow me home and see how pathetic I can be. I suck it up and give a brave face for most people around me, but inside I am dying to survive some days. I am not trying to throw a pity party, but I guess this is the first day I've really felt that first spark of vengeance, and of the feeling that I've been wronged. I feel like they've stolen time from me, with all of these wrong assessments.

Part of the problem is that doctors have ego issues. I think they all do, when they get into a job of playing a God of sorts. When they don't see the answer quickly, they do this thing where they casually imply that the patient might be overly stressed and her mind is creating things. I wasn't dumb, so I picked up on these comments. Then the next appointment, they wanted to screen me for depression. How many times did this go awry?

I complained of swallowing problems, and people thought I was stressed. I had thyroid cancer instead.

I complained of having foot pain, and continued to wait tables for a few days. They said maybe overworked? After the x-rays, they saw I had broken several bones in the foot.

I went to the hospital with TIA's, and was told all of the things to look for next time. The neurologist questioned me on stress and depression, wanting to blame all of my symptoms on that. Instead, it was a clotting disorder and very abnormally-thick blood causing the TIAs. Go figure...

So I wasn't a fan of hearing that same stuff. I know that after pain and illness for this many years, there's no doubt some emotional help I could receive. I was already getting it, and the therapist was telling me to trust my instincts.

I guess instead of being one of the furies, I have become more of a woman that feels she has to scream to be heard. I don't want to hurt anyone else, or cause them despair.  I just want them to listen, and believe me to be a competent woman with a decent head on her shoulders.  Trust me, I WANT to be out there laughing and playing with my kids.  And on the many days that I do push myself way too far, I don't want to be miserable for days afterward.  I try to keep positive, but I guess these setbacks always make it hard for me to handle.

And when the word "tumor" pops up, that word can bring me to my knees.

Those Little Moments

It seems in the past few weeks, there have been some absolutely terrible things happening around me.  A local gal in town passed away of an illness, a former student I knew committed suicide, and another guy I knew from school just found out he has a brain tumor.  If I'm not careful, I'll catch the blues amidst all of this grief.  Ah, the woes of being an incredibly compassionate and empathetic person...

Through all of that news, another thought was lingering in my head: yesterday was my one year cancerversary.  I was incredibly excited to knock a year off my calendar, and say that I was indeed alive for one more calendar year. I remembered back to the day I was diagnosed, and my immediate thought was about the future.  I thought first about my children, and what would happen if something were to happen to my one day.  Beyond the idea of my untimely death, I then thought about what might happen if I spent years of my life ill before I passed.  I know it's natural to have those feelings when diagnosed with cancer, but it felt like mine were more intense because I knew I was the only reliable parent to raise these kids.  I really couldn't afford a chance of screwing up in my planning.

After I ushered those thoughts of death and being bed-ridden out of my head, I started thinking about how I wouldn't take things for granted.  I made a silent promise to myself that I was going to get out there and enjoy the world, and I was going to embrace all of the fantastic moments around me.  If you remember back that far, I had just finished the 15 Before 30 project, so I was comforted in the fact that I had already finished a ton of bucket list activities before the surgery and diagnosis.  I guess I did have some calm in knowing that I had already gone out and lived in the world.  But I did know that I wanted to really savor all of the regular moments.  Those moments that you really want to remember when you look back over your life.

Every mom can probably agree with me when she reads this: we often get caught up in following the rules, or maintaining a household, or maintaining our sanity, and we fail to really ENJOY the moments of life with our kids. If you are anything like me, you are thinking about 20 things that are happening next, and it's hard to shut off your brain and enjoy the now.  So, knowing this was a challenge for me, I made that my silent goal.  I wanted to really stop and enjoy the moments around me.  I know this would make me stop and think, and really enjoy and be appreciative of the life around me.

Of course, life happens, I went through drug withdrawal and radiation treatment, I lost my job through a rather tacky and unfortunate separation, I tried my best to maintain normalcy while recovering, and I threw myself into a new job (that was way too stressful, and the work of three people!).  Needless to say, I was throwing my goal to the side and charging ahead.

Sometimes I can use a gentle reminder, but sometimes the reminders aren't so gentle.  Mine came in the form of a loud "CRACK!" while I was putting away my grocery cart at Kroger.  I could feel the pain searing through my leg, but I was still able to walk. I hobbled back to the car, and thought "if I can walk, it can't be THAT bad!"

Well, I should have thought twice, since this is the fourth time I've broken a bone without really knowing it. This proves that I either have a problem with pain perception, or I'm too stubborn to go to the doctor. Either way, this became a rather painful reminder that maybe I needed to take time to slow down and focus on myself.

While lying in bed for a few months, I guess I finally had the chance to appreciate those little moments.  Life was terribly boring for a person that runs 100 miles an hour every day.  I found myself just waiting for my kids to get home, then grilling them for information about their day. Why couldn't they remember every little detail about what happened at school??? Why doesn't Alex remember all of the side items he chose for lunch?!?!?

This boredom really made me stop and appreciate the encounters I had with my children.  When you have a broken leg, your primary duties are: 1) take meds, 2) get to bathroom and back, 3) eat.  That's it; I wasn't cooking meals, or carrying loads of laundry upstairs. I wasn't cleaning bathrooms, or picking up toys and vacuuming rooms.  Instead, I was coloring holiday pictures, playing card games, and reading stories with the kids.

And that's exactly what needed to happen.

You see, ever since the kids were born, I was the primary provider for them.  I worked full-time as a teacher, and often had at least one part-time job on the side.  Even after my student attack, I was taking care of medical problems, taking care of the household (what I could do), and taking care of kids.  There simply wasn't time for those magical moments, and it made me sad.  I knew I had it in me to be a great mom, but I had a really hard time balancing all of my duties.

Guess what happened in the past few months? Amazing things!  I knew my kids loved me, and we tell each other "I love you" about ten times a day. It's common to get little hugs here and there through the day, and I still tuck them in with a kiss every night.  But on top of that, I was finally able to ENJOY my kids.  I was able to sit on the bed and give them my full attention.  I was able to hear their giggles while telling jokes, listen to them singing songs, dress paper dolls for every imagined occasion, and talk about bullies and girls while playing Yahtzee with Alex.  I felt like I finally had the chance to do all of those things I missed, and that was probably the greatest gift I received after the cancer ordeal.  It took a painful way of happening, but a gift nonetheless.

And my great reward was realized on Friday.  I got out of a hearing in the morning, and was feeling a bit down.  I had been in child support enforcement court, and had to listen to the attorney talk to Chris about why he can't pay child support.  I felt like I was listening to a broken record, with the same excuses and the same stories every time I get called back to court.  I left that day shaking my head-- some people step up to the plate and do what it takes to take care of their responsibilities, and some people make excuses.  Either way, I refused to let it ruin my day.  I decided to head over to Alex's school and eat lunch with him.  I replaced my blank expression with a big smile and walked in the door.

I waited for him, and thought about the last time I came to eat at his school.  It was always hard while teaching, because I was at a different school. When there were school events, I never got the opportunity to slip away and see everything.  I had to eat lunch with him when our school breaks were staggered, but Friday I had a free slot open up, and I couldn't think of a better lunch date.

When Alex saw me, you would have thought he saw a celebrity.  He was beyond excited I was there to eat with him, and was excited to choose a friend to bring to lunch.  We chatted about new movies, math tricks, and classroom happenings.  When it was time to head up to take our trays, he walked ahead of me and yelled bye over his shoulder.  I was conscious of the changes that happen with kids, and I was careful not to embarrass him.

Anyone that's followed Alex knows that he's an incredibly social kid, but he can be awkward in places. He doesn't like hugs, and sometimes gets confused about social cues.  Over the past few months, with our extra time spent together, I could see him warming up.  That day, in the lunch line, the most amazing thing happened:

He bolted out of the line of his peers, threw his arms around me waist, and gave me the biggest squeeze.  He stayed there for about ten seconds, then told me he loved me and got back in line.  I could feel myself tearing up.  People around me might have thought I was crazy, but they didn't know what a big deal this was!  I had been waiting for the moment of having a big hug from this boy; I knew I'd keep hugging him and wait for the rest of my life if I had to.  Something in him was always guarded, and it was almost like he was uncomfortable being that vulnerable.  Finally, it was time!

What seemed like a hug in a school cafeteria felt like so much more; over the past five months of being home with the kids, I was able to watch them grow.  I finally felt like I was also able to stop, breathe, and enjoy those little moments with them.

So, for today, I took them on a few day adventures.  We went to Chik Fil-A for lunch, then the Hands-On Science Center to play.  We finished the afternoon by having blizzards at Dairy Queen and selecting a movie for family movie night.  Yes, that seems like plain old stuff, but I was really enjoying the day of normal.  I listened to their backseat conversations, and didn't mind when Carly needed to belt out the words to "Let it Go" at the top of her lungs.  I giggled with them when we swapped blizzards, and munched popcorn while we guessed what would happen in The Pirate Fairy.  And I noticed every moment, and marveled and what cool kids I had been blessed with for this journey.

I don't know many people that are thankful for a broken leg, and all of the pain and grief it has brought along with it, but I will say that I am thankful for the clarity it has brought me, and the lesson that it's ok to be less than perfect, and to stop and enjoy my life.  It's sad that I had to have permission for such a thing.

On a side note, I do think an update might be helpful to those of you that follow the story:  there have been continued problems with my leg, which we knew might happen.  A lot was done during surgery, and there were a few different areas that needed to heal.  The doctor knows it is frustrating, but also knows that each patient heals at a different rate.  My muscle spasms that were occurring before the break aren't helping the recovery, so I'm sure that causes some extra trouble.

I try to keep active, and am still doing my physical therapy at home. I am trying to be patient, and know that things take time to get better.  We finally addressed a med change, which helped me get more comfortable at night!  Once I was able to sleep again, I felt a bit more sane! :-)

I know everything will work out, even when I have my downs.  Pain doesn't last forever, though it seems my body has been trying to prove that theory wrong! The best medicine for any of my ailments has been to pause and listen to the wise words of my little ones.

Carly's latest thoughts:

"Mom, I am sorry I was almost late to school.  I was picking these flowers, but I also saw that squirrel right over there.  I had to decide if I wanted to keep these flowers, or make that squirrel my pet.  I could catch him and name him Butch.  Or I can pick more flowers, but I can only do one!  Hey, could you pick these flowers, and I'll go get Butch?!?!"

She was sent to me because God knew I needed to loosen up...

;-)