“And I’m alive
And I don’t need a witness
To know that I survived
I’m not looking for forgiveness
I just need light
I need light in the dark as I search for the resolution.”
I hear these words being sung as I stand at the Andrew McMahon concert and it echoes in my head: “I survived.”
I survived an abortion at 19 (it was an ectopic pregnancy). I survived bad relationships. I survived friendships falling apart. I survived losing an eye and having a prosthetic put in. So why am I crying hearing my all-time favorite artist singing, being surrounded by others who love this music as much as me?
Because I just learned I needed to have three lymph nodes removed, because two ENT’s and an oncologist suspect it’s lymphoma, and because in my heart of hearts and in my bones, I know they’re right.
It all began this past January when I was feeling exhausted and went to see my PCP. Not just the “normal” exhaustion because I have two young kids, but I would wake up at 8am feeling as if I hadn’t slept at all and I would have a hard time keeping my eyes open (no matter how much water and how many fruits and veggies I was eating). My PCP said my white blood cell count was higher than normal, but I wasn’t sick and I didn’t have any infections. She felt my neck and noticed my lymph nodes were enlarged and I said they had been for a bit; I thought it was because I hadn’t lost all my baby weight from my youngest. I told her I had awful night sweats but again, but I assumed it was from having my son (who was 15 months at the time). She was concerned and sent me for an ultrasound, which showed my lymph nodes were in fact enlarged.
My PCP sent me to an oncologist. She agreed that my lymph nodes were enlarged and was concerned. She sent me to my ENT and he agreed that I needed a biopsy, and soon. Let me tell you, childbirth is easier than having a neck biopsy. It’s not that it hurts so much, but it’s so uncomfortable and I don’t wish it on my worst enemy. Well, as most biopsy’s come back, mine was “inconclusive,” which is very common and frustrating.
My oncologist didn’t like that I was still having awful night sweats and that my iron level was low. She hoped after a few iron infusions it would help, and it did for a few weeks. But I was back to being exhausted and feeling burnt out and run down, and like an awful mom because I was napping all the time and going to bed early. My husband thought it was depression.
After seeing my ENT and my oncologist, we decided it was time to go to Boston. I saw a second ENT there and he agreed that the lymph nodes needed to come out and scheduled me for surgery for the following day. It doesn’t give you much time to process or be emotionally “okay.” But I talked with a close friend who is a nurse and a friend’s husband who is a PA and both stressed this would be the best way to get some answers (mind you, we are in June at this point).
My husband and I went to Boston. I had to fill out a form in-case something happened. Then it hit me,:“I could not come out of this. I could leave my young children motherless. I was freaking out and didn’t know what to do. So, a very kind nurse gave me something to calm me down, and it helped.
Fast forward to ten days later and the results are in: “pre-lymphoma,” which means the cancer is at the earliest of stages. It is great we caught it early. I will be doing blood work every two weeks, monthly scans to keep an eye on it and make sure once it happens we have a plan in place. I have a wonderful loving husband who processes things in his own way, a man of little words but checks in with me and amazing friends who would drop anything if I asked them to and who I trust to leave my kids with, and family that goes above and beyond without me asking for help. As scary as this is, I know I will survive like I have everything else.
My advice: don’t worry about feeling like a nuisance. If something is wrong, get checked out. Get a second opinion and a third. It’s not like it is on TV; they don’t do a test and give you a result right away and that can be frustrating, but trust yourself and be open and honest with your doctors. You are your best advocate and that’s all that matters. Call as many times as you need and make sure to follow up.
