So a week ago from today, I went to the hospital to get my thyroid removed. Recap: I had Papillary Thyroid Cancer. The cure? More cowbell. No wait. Remove thyroid.
Little known fact since this a blog about biking – I also specialize in saltwater aquaria, with a focus on invertebrates (coral, clams, etc). So I see a fishtank in the waiting room and wander over and am greeted with a horrifying sight.
A dead clownfish, floating in the tank. The superstitious side of me, albeit small, starts to panic that this is a premonition of how the surgery will go.
So I flee the tank and wander around some more and see the following stuck to a door:
Well, hell. Depending on your chosen genre of vampire literature, I’d rather have a vampire sexily suck my blood then a goddamn needle jammed in my arm. It’s been a week and I still look like a domestic violence victim on my arms.
Finally I’m prepped for surgery, they put me under, I wake up and have a panic attack that I’m dying, and end up in a room. I won’t go into detail of the next 24 hours, which just really sucked, but I’m alive and I think I am well. We find out fully on Thursday, but the surgeon said it went really well.
Below is my ‘victory’ picture taken in the hospital after the surgery. I can’t believe I really thought my neck was getting ‘fat’ on one side (which was the tumor). I have my pretty slender neck back, and am doing really well.