Hand in my pocket

  (buckle up, this is a long one)

I'm free, but I'm focused

I'm green, but I'm wise

I'm hard, but I'm friendly, baby

I'm sad, but I'm laughing

I'm brave, but I'm chicken shit

I'm sick, but I'm pretty, baby

These lyrics by Alanis Morissette so describe Faith to me, at this moment in her life, well, except for being chicken shit.  She is the bravest person I know. 

So many of you have asked questions about Faith's thyroid cancer, and, like many Gen Z'ers, she lives her life openly, posting on social media about events, activities and life's ups and downs.  She supports my sharing of her story knowing that it might help or inform others. 

As many of you know, Faith is passionate about cross-country skiing, having discovered the sport in high school.  Despite her small size, she worked really hard and loved being on both her high shcool and university teams, for a total of 9 years.  While she was at Laurentian, she started guiding a visually-impaired high school skier, to fulfill requirements for her first degree  where she needed to do some kind of field placement in health and physical eduction.  She loved being a guide, and continued long after the placement ended, going to both the Ontario and Canada Winter Games, as well as national competitions and training camps.  At a national camp last November in Canmore, Alberta, Faith took a hard fall while guiding.  She got up and sped back in front of her athlete and was able to finish the race.  However, she had some pain in her collarbone/shoulder and the team staff wanted to rule out any serious injuries so sent her for an assessment at the Canmore hospital.  This was the moment that  started the entire cancer journey for Faith. That lucky/unlucky fall.  

The hospital cleared her of any injuries related to the fall with an emergency CT scan but saw somethng on her thyroid and recommended an ultrasound.  Being a small hospital and late in the day, the ultrasound clinic was closed and, becasue she was leaving for Ontario the next day, she couldn't have it done right away.   That was the first, of many, long and frustrating waits for a diagnosis, tests, and treatment.

Once back in Ontario, we learned that we could not transfer her CT scan from that AB hospital to an ON hospital - I mean, it's possible that it could be done, but I likely would have had to take on not one, but two, health systems. So, while I don't back down from a fight, like ever, it felt like overkill at the time.  She was an active, fit and healthy 22 year old,  she had no palpable mass and no symptoms, so the idea that it could be cancer was not top of mind.  Faith followed up with our amazing family doctor (in Ottawa) who sent her a referral for an ultrasound that Faith did in Sudbury.  This indicated a need for a biopsy (cue the first big wait).  

Her biopsy (first one) was done in Ottawa in February, on both her thyroid and a few local lymph nodes.  If you've ever had a biopsy, it is not the most pleasant experience, despite the liberal use of lidocaine.  Unfortunately, after waiting 3 weeks for results, they were "inconclusive".  Another biopsy was ordered (which meant another wait), as well as another ultrasound and guided CT scan (using dye).  More waiting, more driving back and forth between Sudbury and Ottawa.  The second biopsy in May was conclusive for Papillary Thyroid Cancer, however the damn lymph node biopsy was still inconclusive.  As much as we wanted the tumour out, we had to wait for another biopsy - the reason being, if cancer had spread to her lymph nodes, it was the difference between a small(er) day surgery, removing half her thyroid, and a major surgery removing the whole throid. This is major surgery as it requires stayng in hopsital 3-4 nights, a surgical drain, a massive (aka badass) scar, a lifetime of throid medication, and, as a special bonus, radiation. 

I'll never know for sure if all the waiting for appointments, biopsies, results and referrals led to the diagnosis that the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes, but that is my firm belief.  The third biopsy confirmed that the cancer was in her lymph nodes and a surgery was booked (cue the longest wait) and she had a total throidectomy and neck dissection on October 8 at the Ottawa Hospital - General campus.  The surgery was about 4 hours, and except for needing to do an xray to confirm that a "miscounted" needle was not in her neck, it went off without a hitch.  (I wish I was kidding about that...but it is in her MyChart.  Seriously)

Faith spent a long 4 days and an even longer, sleepless, 3 mights in the hospital.  For some reason, they thought she needed a soft diet so everythng she received was mushy. Good thing she didn't have a big appetite and that Shawn and I spent almost every waking hour there, on a rotation, and brought her food from home. Being in the room while Faith got her neck drain removed, before getting discharged, was probably the single most traumatic thing I've ever experienced.  Ever.  I'm definitly still traumatized by it (and partly explains why the first question I asked my surgeon when I came to after my surgery was whether I had a surgical drain).

About 2.5 weeks after surgery, Faith had a follow up with her surgeon. Unfortunately, the pathology results were still not in at the time, so Faith was promised a phone call to discuss once they were available, and sent on her way to continue healing.  She promptly dropped me off at work, and drive 6 hours back to Sudbury.  Not 12 hours later, the results were posted to MyChart.  17 of 44 lymph nodes removed tested positive for cancer.  WTF. Even in my lowest moments, I never expected the number to be so high.  Needless to say, it was not a good weekend, for any of us.  And we still had to wait 9 fucking days for the phone call from the surgeon, which came the day after my surgery.  And it was only then, that the surgeon put in the referral to Nuclear Medicine for radiation (in Sudbury). Which we are still waiting for...

I know this post isn't about me, but sometimes I don't know how I cope with all of this.  Let alone, how Faith, living on her own, 6 hours away, at a time when she should be able to enjoy the life she's been working towards - living with friends, working as a supply teacher, being debt-free, dating, planning trips - she's WAITING on appointments with nuclear medicine and endocrinology and doing physiotherapy for post-surgery frozen shoulder (which she has to pay for because she's no longer under our insurance and not working full time).  I try not to spend much time in my anger and frustration, in despair and feeling helpless, but sometimes I drift into those territories. 

It is always her smiling face, reassuring me that everything will be ok, that keep me going.  

And what it all comes down to

Is that everything's gonna be fine, fine, fine

'Cause I've got one hand in my pocket

And the other one is giving a high five (or in Faith's case, a thumbs up sign).