the cancer I've had for 10 years is growing and I don't know how to feel about it.
I went to the doctor yesterday and the news is what I expected. My recent blood test and ultrasound results were uploaded to my medical chart so I took a look. I have read so many of these reports by now that I can accurately predict what the doctor will say before I meet them. Mainly because my cancer has been slowly increasing for the last 10 years, and every time my doctors say something like, “Well, it seems your cancer is slowing increasing, but nothing we can do yet, so we just have to watch and wait.”
However, meeting my doctor this time was different. My doctor mentioned possible surgery or more treatment depending on the results of a PET scan that I will soon get. My thyroglobulin levels are too high to account for just the visible nodule in my neck. In other words— my cancer is growing somewhere else and we have to find it. My last PET scan from 2021 revealed some spots in my lungs, ribcage, and spine, but it’s 2023, so we will have to see what shows up on the scan now.
As a patient, I have been pretty active in seeking healing. I tried a strict ketogenic diet, a vegan keto diet, psychedelics, mindfulness, and meditation. I am also currently pursuing my master’s degree in Mind-Body medicine with hopes to learn about other modalities and how to change this whole messy thing we call a healthcare system. It’s been a decade of me dealing with this, and so when people ask me “How are you doing?,” I don’t know what to day or how to feel about it. Suleika Jaouad spoke in her book, “Between Two Kingdoms,” about the World of the Sick, and the World of the Healthy. When you get cancer, you are brought into this alternate reality where your daily life becomes focused on your bodily numbers, measurements, appointments, and procedures. I remember all too well being able to recite my medical record number as a rap, being able to estimate after I walked up the stairs what my red blood cell count was based on my heart rate, and knowing if my nausea was being caused by chemo or if it was because I was standing in the sun for too long (and yes— one of my medications made me allergic to sunlight— how cruel, right?). Every day of my life was full of medical news and bodily symptoms.
Thyroid cancer is funky because I feel like I am living in the World of the Sick and the World of the Healthy as an illegal immigrant in both. Not sick enough to get care packages, but not healthy enough to not have a blood test every 3 months. Not sick enough for Get Well cards, but not healthy enough to forget to take my medication every morning. Sometimes I forget that I need to be diligent and on top of my health with all the normalcy my life has. As much as I am entirely healthy- able to dance, teach, do triathlons, walk my dog, and enjoy my life in NYC - I can also feel this lingering fear that it all could be taken away from me so quickly. Tragic things happen in this world. I am so exception. (Today a meteor literally almost smashed into the earth!!!) This life I have is a gift, and I want to use this time wisely, joyfully, and adventurously. So, I am doing what I can to stay present and shut down this fear as I approach this PET scan.
Cancer is tragic, weird, and unpredictable. For example, why is thyroid cancer growing in my lungs, spine, and ribcage? It makes zero sense. The duality of having metastatic cancer and feeling healthy always makes me feel unsure of how much emphasis to put on my health. On one side, I think to myself: You feel healthy. Celebrate that. These are just some little baby tumors that you have to monitor. On the other side, I think: Girl, are you crazy? You have CANCER. You have to try something. Get this taken care of now. Your health is everything. I am trying to understand it as a little thing that could lead to a lot of destruction, and I am so fortunate to have caught it early and to be receiving my care at one of the best cancer hospitals in the country. (Also… I am so thankful that I was able to squeeze in for an appointment! Her next one was in November until someone canceled and I wiggled in!)
Every time I feel like this— that is, confused, kinda emotional, and upset— I usually just go back to gratitude. So here are 10 things I am thankful for:
My breath.
Juliet cuddles and kisses.
An able-moving body.
Taste buds.
My Gohonzon.
My classes and students at Peridance, IK162, MS935.
My creativity.
Sunshine on cold days.
My house plants and flowers.
To hear and feel music.
Deep breaths. Keep on keeping on. Onward to the PET scan, and I go from there. My mom said on the phone yesterday, “Why do you have to be my problem child?” I laughed. I guess I’m just that special.