Two Truths and No Lie
Celebrating the 2nd Anniversary of my Thyroid Surgery (yeah! celebrating!)
I had a great weekend.
I went to the Madison Farmer’s Market, drank a beer lakeside, gasped out loud in an art museum, and consumed possibly the best custard treat I have ever put in my human body.
But today I’m in Chicago. And today is also the 2-year anniversary of when I had surgery to remove my autoimmune diseased thyroid + the papillary carcinoma that had hitched a ride.
I named my scar Livi, and my wonderful husband and family sent flowers and wine to celebrate her birthday. She’s a toddler now! (Is that weird to say!?)
I’m glad that I’m in Chicago right now because I made one of the most important decisions in my life in Chicago about 6.5 years ago - and on days like today and in, quite frankly, times of *gestures to disease plagued world* I am grateful to be reminded of that decision.
The rest of this story has some scary medical stuff in it and if you’re not in a place to read about that right now, please don’t! I love you! Thank you for taking care of yourself <3
A bit of backstory:
When I was 20, I was admitted to the hospital for having severe mononucleosis and epiglottitis at the same time (it killed Washington! Look it up! It is super freaky.)
I was in the ICU for 4 days on a ventilator and then had an emergency throat surgery (do we call this… foreshadowing?) to remove my tonsils and then stayed in the hospital for 7 more days.
It was scary, recovery was rough, and my parents + sister were freaked out beyond comprehension because there was a non-zero amount of time where people were throwing around the words “chances of survival.”
Obviously, I survived! And because timing “worked out,” I didn’t have to miss any school. And even though I missed out on an excellent opportunity over winter break that would have gotten me a summer internship in my desired field - I shook it off, said ‘thanks for keeping me alive, higher power!’ And got a lovely advertising internship in Chicago so I could take Second City and Annoyance classes at night. I also got to live with one of my best friends in one of my favorite cities! Plan B was going A okay.
Okay now the frontstory:
One morning, I went out for a run along a marina type thing on Lake Michigan. I was by myself, keeping decent pace, and I stumbled slightly on a rock or a lip or the like. I immediately righted myself without issue, but something within me broke.
Sure, I thought, nothing terrible happened. But it could have. Terrible things happen every day - and not only as moral or circumstantial consequences - sometimes shit just happens. Bad shit just happens. It could happen to any one at any time and there’s no reason to believe that any of us are more likely to be spared than others. If I had fallen into the marina, there wouldn’t have been anyone around and then who knows what - and, there, I managed to stop myself.
We actual humans don’t get the benefit of a lot of “music swelling - THIS IS A BIG MOMENT” clarity in our lives because we are people and we are busy living those lives and we do not have John Williams or perfectly selected 4-year-old pop music to mark watershed moments in our heads. But in this instance, as I ran along the water, I got as close as I’ve ever gotten. I knew that I had a choice to make about how to live the rest of my life. That I could either decide to live in fear of what I knew, within me, to be true - or I could decide to live in spite of that fear, focused on both the other, joyfully true things in the present - and what I dared to hope would be true in the future.
I picked the second one. And for the six years after that moment by the water, abiding by my decision was pretty easy.
Getting a second round of two life threatening throat conditions before I turned 30 and then having a surgery to remove a critical gland leaving me permanently medicated - made it a little bit more difficult. Even though I fell in love in between. :)
The hard thing about the decision to not be scared and angry all the time after a personal crisis is that it is not a choice that pits a true world against a false one. Rather, I am handed two existences of equal veracity and I am tasked, myself, with deciding which truth is more important - which reality to give the weight of my one precious life.
And when it gets hard to feel hopeful or happy or healed - I try to remember that I’ve made my choice already. That six and a half years ago, at about 7:13 in the morning, I decided that I was okay. That fear could visit but not live here. That joy was not foolish. That reality might not be optional - but it does come with options.
I already decided, even if I have to remind myself every single year,
that I will never throw a funeral for my thyroid
when I could throw a birthday for my scar.
Happy Birthday Livi
<3
I love you all!