Some good medical news, for a change

Yesterday’s mammogram wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as usual, but more importantly, I got some good news.  The rad tech told me that the calcium deposits we’ve been monitoring for the past 2 years haven’t changed so I can go back to annual screening mammograms.  No more semi-annual diagnostic mammos! 

The tech did give me a bit of a scare, though.  She called me back into the room and closed the door, “for privacy.”  I immediately thought it was going to be bad news.  What a relief when it turned out to be good news!

Big week ahead!

SO many appointments tomorrow!  First stop will be the lab, to give them some blood to play with.  Then it’s Endocrinology for my first of 2 injections of thyrogen in preparation for my RAI (radioactive iodine).  That’s my morning.  In the afternoon I have my mammogram 😖, followed by a Podiatry appointment.  With luck, he’ll be able to figure out why my ankles, and now my feet, keep swelling.

Tuesday I go back for my 2nd thyrogen shot, then to Nuclear Medicine for a radioactive contrast dye, both in preparation for Wednesday.

Wednesday is the day I get nuked! First they do a full-body scan to see where any stray thyroid or cancel cells may be lurking.  The NucMed doc then sends my RAI order to the pharmacy.  When that comes back, they give me the pill, keep me for 20-30 minutes for observation, then send me home to quarantine.   Video visits will be welcome, and definitely more interesting than whatever I’ll be streaming. ☺️

Fabulous fall day!

The weather was gorgeous - sunny and mild - so the Chief and I drove out to a favorite farm stand some 35 or so miles away.  The excuse was so I could buy myself a pumpkin or two for baking.  We also ended up coming home with a butternut squash, a couple of jars of preserves, a scarecrow doll, 2 of the biggest carrots I’ve ever seen (the Chief joked they were baseball bats), and a couple of pies.

The trees were turning, the farmland was beautiful - all in all, it was a perfect day for a drive in the countryside, the kind you wish you could box up and store away for when you need a lift.

Found an LID recipe that's a keeper

Tonight I tried a third recipe from the LID cookbook.  The first 2 were just kinda meh, but tonight's dinner - chicken w/ apricot sauce - is a keeper.  It's not as sweet as it sounds, because the recipe calls for ginger with the apricot, and I also added a dash of cumin.  It was easy, too - I cooked some chicken thighs in olive oil, then cooked a shredded onion in the drippings, added the apricot preserves (Bonne Maman in this case, because the commissary didn't have Polaner), ginger and cumin, poured the sauce over the chicken, and there ya go.  Was really good over couscous and with roasted fresh asparagus.

My system is confused.

It seems that getting your thyroid out messes up your hormones or lymphatic system or something.  I find myself getting occasional hot flashes (I thought I was past that!) and my ankles are quite swollen.  My PCP has ruled out gout and the OT I saw today doesn't think it's lymphedema, though that's what she put in my chart so that Kaiser will pay for compression socks.  I see a podiatrist on Monday; maybe he'll be able to figure out what's going on.  Mine aren't as swollen as in the photo but sometimes they do feel that big.

That's Day 1 of 12.

Yesterday wasn't too bad - oatmeal for breakfast, ratatouille ragu for lunch, and a slightly disappointing pork chop recipe for dinner.  (The apricot sauce was good but runny and the pork chops on the dry side.)  I missed my yogurt smoothie; the "no dairy" restriction may be the hardest part of this diet.

My veggie-beef soup recipe can be LID-friendly as long as I use no-salt-added tomatoes. I'll have to omit my mushroom stock and the tomato paste because of the probably iodized salt, but that's not a big deal.  I'll just use kosher salt and maybe some other seasonings from my collection.

And so it begins…

Today I start the low-iodine diet (LID) to prep for the radioactive iodine I’ll get next week.   It's not exactly off to a great start, as I managed to ruin some perfectly good homemade turkey soup by putting too much kosher salt in it.😥  Lesson learned - a little of that goes a long way.

Lunch will be some of the ratatouille ragu I made and froze in individual portions, and dinner will be pork chops in an apricot sauce.  That latter recipe I got from a cookbook put together by a thyroid cancer survivors organization.  It’s going to be helpful as I try to figure out what I can eat for the next couple of weeks.

Getting ready, mentally, for quarantine

Now that Macbeth is on its feet and I don't need to do anything more for them, my focus turns to this LID, which starts Monday and runs nearly two weeks (Oct. 26 thru Nov. 7).  That's this week.  Next week is chockablock - Monday: mammo, podiatry, and first pre-nuc injection.  Tuesday: 2nd pre-nuc injection and an imagery dose.  Wednesday:  pre-dose body scan, radioactive iodine (RAI) dose, then home and into isolation for a week.

I'll be spending my quarantine in our bedroom and using the back bathroom.  The Chief will be moving into the spare BR for the duration and using the front BA.  The "quarantine zone" will include a trash bag, a laundry basket, a TV table (for eating and for my laptop), my electronica and their chargers, and a big bag of lemon drops for the dry mouth I've been warned can come with the treatment.

At least having my electronics means I can videochat with people, even if in-person visits won't be safe.

That's my last show for the year on its feet

Macbeth opened tonight.  This show hasn't been particularly demanding and everyone with wigs or special makeup now knows how to get themselves ready or has someone to assist.  To paraphrase our director, all my little birds are now ready to fly, so I went home shortly before intermission in hopes of getting to bed before midnight for the first time all week.  It'll be nice to have dinner at home with the Chief instead of eating backstage after I finish helping folks get ready.

But don't "my" witches look nice & spooky?

I don't plan to pick up another show this year.  My medical "adventures" will keep me busy, and tired, for the next few weeks, and December is pretty well booked, between a wedding and Christmas.

Good for my humility :)

I'm designing hair & makeup for a production of Macbeth that opens this Friday.  This is a very active production - lots of sword fighting with real swords, not plastic or wooden ones, and the witches have some pretty creepy movement when they're not playing Messenger #1, Lady's Maid #2, etc.  All this means that, for example, fight call takes a lot of time because there's so much to rehearse.  (Fight call is when the performers go through their fight choreography, first at half speed, then at full speed.  This is a very important safety procedure.)

Our costumers are still putting finishing touches on the players' armor, cloaks, etc., and the lighting and sound are still being tweaked.  All this to say that our director has a LOT of pieces to look at and make decisions on.  So far, I've gotten only one note, on the first version of Witch #1's wig.  Just finding the time to ask her a question when she doesn't look like her brain will explode serves to remind me that, while not unimportant, hair & makeup is well down most directors' list of things that they need to render a decision on.  In fact, one of the cast told me that this is the first production she's been in that even had a hair & makeup person.

Bottom line:  It's important to me because that's where my focus is.  Other people, however, have a LOT more things competing for their attention, so my priority and theirs don't align.  I'm not whining, just laughing ruefully at myself.

(My witches won't look like this but I liked the photo.)

Mammo time again :(

Just scheduled my next mammogram yesterday.  This is a semi-annual, diagnostic mammo instead of the standard annual version because I'm "special".  😬  I've been doing this for a few years now, so it shouldn't be a big deal.  However, because of the thyroid cancer diagnosis, part of me wonders if they're gonna find more cancer.  Pray for my peace of mind.

The office where I used to get my mammos done had this cartoon posted where the victim, er, patient could see it.

“Chemo brain” without (thank heaven!) the chemo

It’s been coming on gradually but yesterday was the worst.  I could not seem to keep a thought in my head or to focus if my life depended on it!  I don’t know whether it’s a reaction to the thyroidectomy, or the synthroid, or some combination thereof, but it sure makes life difficult.  “Make lists,” you might say.  Unfortunately, that’s a solution only if I can still remember what I want to write down by the time I find paper and a pen. 😢

Low-key birthday this year

The big "event" of my birthday the other day was spending an hour with my Nuclear Medicine doc.  Given how important that is right now, that's not particularly surprising.  My birthday won't be greeted with fanfare this year, and that's OK.  Tonight's Greek dinner was fine.  The restaurant was fairly empty in our section, so our waitress had time to chat with us.  Better, we managed to get home before the rain started.

Among other things, the Chief & I talked about how fortunate we are to be retired, to have the time and resources to treat ourselves to a nice dinner out.  Not having to worry about cramming domestic maintenance into the few hours work doesn't take means we can do things at a more leisurely pace.  We put in our time; now we can kick back & relax.

Going nuclear Nov. 4th

Had a 1-hour video visit w/ my Nuclear Medicine doc this morning.  We covered a lot - hence the lengthy session.  I "get nuked" Nov. 4th, starting a low-iodine diet Oct. 28th.  I get an injection 2 days before I get the treatment, then again the day before, along with a contrast dye for a pre-treatment scan the morning of the 4th.  (I'm gonna need to write all this on my calendar to help keep it all straight.)

I'll be in isolation for 6 or 7 days, though I'll still be ever so slightly radioactive after that.  They'll give me a card documenting my medical radiation so that, if I set off TSA's sensors when the Chief & I fly out for my sister's wedding a few weeks later, they'll let me on the plane.

The Chief sat in on my visit and we were both relieved to learn that the "radiation safety" precautions won't be quite as strict as some of what I'd read online.  I still have to stay away from people that first week, and can only prepare food for myself, not anyone else, but I don't have to worry that simply being in the kitchen will contaminate the house or even that room.  Not only that, but the iodine breaks down in water, so that's all that's required to clean up after myself - no Clorox or other heavy-duty cleaners.

Tomorrow's the big day

My video consult w/ Nuclear Medicine is tomorrow - finally!  The Chief and I have a SLEW of questions about the whole business.  I'm hoping & praying that we'll get answers to all those questions so that we can start planning again.  It'll be at least a couple of weeks before I "get nuked" because of the required prep (like the low-iodine diet), but I plan to tell the NucMed doc that under no circumstances will I let this interfere with attending my sister's wedding in December!

2 months post-op

Two months after getting my throat slit, you can hardly see the incision.  My traumatized vocal fold has recovered, the rash is on the wane, and in general I feel just fine.  Next week I hope to learn when I'll get my radioactive iodine treatment, and to get details on the prep, including the low-iodine diet.

And it’s back!

Had my final follow-up with the surgeon today.  He noticed immediately that my voice sounds much better.  He scoped me and was happy to be able to report that my paralyzed vocal fold is back up and running again!  

I’ve still got a fair bit of swelling in the area, which is why my singing voice isn’t really back yet, but the worst is over.  The doc warned me that the radioactive iodine will cause swelling too.   Not what I wanted to hear, but at least it won’t be a nasty surprise when it happens.

The Chief asked how long it will take me to recover from the iodine.  We were surprised to be told 6-9 months!  However, he also assured me I’ll be able to travel once I’m out of quarantine.  Nuclear Medicine will give me a letter to show TSA in case I set off one of their sensors, to reassure them that any radiation I’m emitting is strictly medical. 

Too soon :(

This Sunday I sang with my choir for the first time since my surgery.  I definitely went back too soon; my voice started feeling tired before mass even started, after no more than 20 minutes going over that morning's music.  I was careful not to push, and even dropped down an octave for a phrase where necessary, but my voice made it clear that it's not yet ready for that much work.  Once I get past my "radioactive phase," I'll have to resume voice lessons to take my voice to the gym, er, get my voice back up to speed.

That was a nice surprise

One of the companies I've designed for this year had their end-of-season awards last night.  The show I designed in May did very well indeed - nominated in almost every category, every nominee in Best in a Minor Role was a cast member, and we won in every category but one.  No surprise that we took Best Production (out of a 7-production season).  I ended up taking home awards for both hair and makeup design.  Given that one of the other shows was Kinky Boots, I expected them to get the makeup award.  After all, if you've ever seen drag makeup, you know it can be quite elaborate.  Nope, I got that award, too.  The Chief was confident I was going to take home both awards; I wasn't as confident, or maybe I just didn't want to get my hopes up.  My husband, however, is my biggest fan and told me on the drive home that he knew I was gonna win both.  

These things are 7-1/2" tall and heavy!  Drop that on your foot and you'll hurt or even break something.  They sure look pretty on our mantel, though.

One of the productions was School of Rock and the front row of the theater was filled with kids from that cast.  It was fun to watch them all bouncing and cheering and generally having a great time.  My favorite moment of the evening, though, was when 2 of their number, who had shared a role, won for Best Junior Performance.  They all lost their minds, jumping around, cheering, yelling, and mobbing the 2 honorees with hugs and congratulations.  I got a bit emotional seeing how thrilled they were for their friends.  And it was obvious that they were indeed friends, even if they hadn't met each other before being cast in the show.

All in all, it was a nice evening.  Award ceremonies can be tedious but in this case you could feel the love.  Several of the awards are named for past members of the company and in at least 2 cases were presented by family members.  It seemed like everyone was congratulating everyone else, people were dishing out compliments to friends and strangers alike, and if you were carrying one of the boxes the awards were presented in, you got congratulated.  At least one person told me at the end of the evening that they were really regretting not seeing "my" show.

I went home with a very tired throat.  Not from yelling & cheering - I knew not to compromise my recovery - but from trying to talk in a space full of very chatty people.  The evening's energy was so positive, though, that I'd say it was worth it.

No, voice isn't audition-ready yet.

Went back to choir practice last night for the first time since my surgery nearly 2 months ago.  Unfortunately, my range has shrunk, my breath control is minimal, and my voice got tired barely halfway into a one-hour rehearsal; hardly surprising under the circumstances.  

On the positive side, I was actually able to sing, and when I did, it felt better than I'd expected after the vocal fold injury and everything else.  Once I've had my Nuclear Medicine consultation and know what my medical schedule will be, I'll go back to taking voice lessons to try to get my voice back up and running.