Yesterday At The Cancer Hospital

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The young black kid was still parking our car when we reached the 5th floor. He had been so cheerful, so friendly, and very professional. First impressions matter, he had been able to put my mind at ease for a short while.

It was my first time in a cancer hospital and I felt misplaced. I shouldn’t be here, didn’t want to be here. Does one ever?

In the waiting room, I studied the other people. It’s easy these days, I can do it openly and nobody catches me, they all stare at their phones and I can study them, and take mental notes of individuals as I always do. Today would be the day when the fate of my thyroid and part of my future would be decided. “He is the best,” I have been told, and everybody who knew him agreed. A doctor, an otolaryngologist, a specialist in treating cancers of the head and neck, a specialist as well for thyroid diseases, plastic and reconstructive surgery. None of this set well with me.

The General came to my mind. I called him, “The General”, I can’t remember his real screen name. He had been one of my supporters back then in 2014 when I spent my first weeks as a non-smoker at an online quit-smoking forum. I didn’t like him. He sounded arrogant and was one of THEM. “Them” is a group of aggravating know-it-all ex-smokers. A group I later on I would cheerfully join.

“You are not off the hook just because you quit smoking now. You can still die of lung cancer in a few years. We all smoked cigarettes for too long,” he had told me and I had hated him for it. How dare he be so blunt, so rude, so outspoken. I had been dreaming on cloud nine, and his unnecessary comment pulled me down to earth too quickly.

Deep down I knew he was right, we all did, but we didn’t want to hear it. 2014 I ended my smoking career, after 35 years of enjoying cigarettes (yes, I was one of them who admitted she loved it.)

His statement, embedded in my memory forever, comes to my mind frequently. Him and the pictures of Terri Hall in the aggressive and shocking anti-smoking ads, how could I ever forget? Every winter when I get a cold or when I have a sore throat, and recently, when I got diagnosed with an enlarged thyroid, I remember all of it. When I smoked I knew about the risks and ignored them, when I quit I feared them.

Nodles, clusters, some suspicious due to their size. 20 cm altogether, around 7 inches, that’s my thyroid, four times larger than normal. Today we would set the date to retire my thyroid, today there would be a CT scan to determine if there is anything else we will have to worry about. My neck, my throat, my tongue, all of it. The big “C” on the table -again.

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Many of the people in the waiting room had visible, new scars on their necks and their faces. Some jawlines had been reconstructed, I didn’t want to see it, but I did notice it -all of them.

Deep down a voice, coming from my gut, my ‘honesty fountain’ the core of me that can’t be bought, bribed, or silenced. “Whatever comes your way, you deserve it, you know?”

Do I mean it? Yes, I do. The General and his message once planted as a seed, has now blossomed into the simple awareness that all that we do in life has consequences. It’s not that I deserve it, but, if you abuse any kind of drugs, alcohol, or nicotine for so many years, the fact is there might be a bill coming your way.

Was it my time to pay up?

My husband’s thoughts were invisible on his face, but I could tell his mind worked similarly to mine. He had been ‘edgy’ the last few days. His patience level had been low, he was worried and tried to hide it. Doesn’t he know that men can’t hide anything from us wives? He should know it by now, and I suppose he does, but he is still trying.

Was I nervous myself? I had isolated myself from everybody, hadn’t blogged, hadn’t called my friends, and had snapped at my neighbor, who wanted to know if I have cancer. Her bluntness, so often refreshing, had bothered me. “If I do I won’t tell anybody around me,” I had blurted out, and later on I found out I had meant that too. I wouldn’t talk bout it. (Other than on my blog, of course.)

Another patient arrived. She was very thin, fragile looking, and had numerous scars on her face and on her neck. Her jawline looked different, her face seemed too small, like someone had cut a piece out. She looked around and then turned her back to me and that’s when I noticed her nails. She was right-handed, had fake nails, her real nails had been growing, and the fake nailtops were still attached. I could only see her left hand, it had a yellowish tone, and the back of her nails were brown. She was a heavy smoker, wore all the signs, and smelled like it as well.

Thoughts were racing through my mind. How can she still smoke? And then the next thought, the voice of reason in me telling me it’s none of my business. Another voice telling me, “Why should she stop now?”

Oh, all these voices in my head, telling me different things, forcing me to take a stand, to select a voice and stick with it. Forced to make a choice, to be either kind, nice and forgiving, or judgemental. The way we interact, it starts inside of us, way before we form words or show reactions.

I went with forgiveness for her and for me.

“Bridget?” The nurse called my name and a short while later I met “my” doctor. My newest, best friend, not by choice but by necessity. I like him. He is charming, witty, and a straight shooter. I like straight shooters, they allow me to be me. Now sugar coating, no tip-toeing through the tulips.

“So, you think it’s cancer,” I blurted out and he looked at me. “Actually, no I don’t,” I hear him say. You have an enlarged thyroid for a very long time, for many years and it gradually grew.” (“No shit Sherlock,” the voice in me is rude sometimes.)

“But I am in a cancer hospital,” I wanted to know why. Will visits here be part of my future?

“That’s where I am most of the time, that’s where my main office is.” Later on, the CT scan shows it’s really ‘just’ my thyroid. Is there a possibility that there might be cancer hidden somewhere in it? Yes, but if so, it will be removed. The surgery is the cure! No radiation or any other treatments are needed afterward. Just a hormone pill for life and a day in the hospital to control my calcium level.

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We leave the same way we came and walk through the large waiting room area. All these people, all these scars. I hope they all will get good news today, but I know it is just wishful thinking.

The thin, fragile-looking lady is busy on her cell phone, I smile at her and quietly wish her well. She doesn’t see me and it doesn’t matter. I saw her.

I am glad I quit smoking when I did. I am grateful my husband followed my lead two years later and quit too.

Is there still a bill to come?

Perhaps, but not right now!

A full thyroidectomy is set to take place on December 26th. They had earlier times available but I didn’t take them. Now I can finish all the projects for my customers before the holidays, and then take two weeks off to recuperate between Christmas and New Year’s. Perfect timing!

For now, life goes back to normal. I will not snap at my neighbor anymore (I think). I will blog again and I will interact with friends, customers, and students as I always do.