When W was about 6 months old, I started feeling so, so tired and down and I noticed I had started to gain weight again, which is obviously NOT supposed to happen, especially when one is breastfeeding. People told me all the time, "Yep, of course you're tired! You're a new mom and a working mom. It's normal." But it just seemed a little not normal. So, I called my doctor and told her I felt more tired than I did when W was first born. She told me to go get some blood tests to check my iron levels and thyroid function. (That's how it works in Mexico — you go and get your own lab tests and report back, which is great for people like me who think Googling is a perfectly valid way to diagnose one's own illness.)

When I got my test results back, I consulted Dr. Google and diagnosed myself with hypothyroidism. And guess what? Dr. Google was right.

One thing Dr. Google could not do, however, was palpate my thyroid and identify a nodule. So, fortunately I went to a trained professional for that part. Nodules are not uncommon, but I did have one, so the doctor had me go for an ultrasound. (I know it may sound obvious, but getting an ultrasound of your thyroid is soooo not as cool as an ultrasound of your baby!) After seeing the results, my doctor sent me for a biopsy. He told me the shape of the nodule indicated it was probably nothing, but better safe than sorry.

So, last Monday, I went for this biopsy. There was no cutting — this was a fine needle aspiration, where they stick a needle in, suck some cells out and call it a day. It really wasn't as bad as it sounds. They did numb the area (my lower neck) first, which was the most painful part. But I'm glad they did it, because there was quite a bit of jabbing and stabbing to come.

The most (not) awesome part of the procedure was where the doctor was trying to get the needle into the nodule, guided by the other doctor who was performing an ultrasound at the same time. I guess the nodule was kind of hard, because the needle didn't want to go in and so he started stabbing it. The other doctor (funny guy) decided to make sound effects like "chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka" every time the needle went in and out. I guess it was kind of funny but all I can say is he's lucky I have a good sense of humor.

After the biopsy I felt like I had been kicked in the neck, but other than that I was fine. The next day, though, panic set in. Googling ensued, which triggered more panic. I saw that nodules that are hard (like mine seemed) were more likely to be cancerous. I also matched some of the nodule's other attributes with my doomsday self-diagnosis, and got to where I was 95% certain I had cancer. 

The doctors had told me I would probably get the pathology results the next day, so when I didn't hear from my endocrinologist by the next night, that pretty much cemented things for me. When I didn't hear from him the NEXT day, I thought, "It's so horrible and rare they are not even sure what it is yet! WOE IS ME." 

That is the point at which I called up the pathology department myself, played it cool and said I needed to know if the results were in so I could pick up the paperwork for my insurance, which was probably somewhat true. It turns out, they had been in for who knows how long, and either the pathology secretary or my doctor's secretary (or both) does not know how to use the fax machine. They then sent the results directly to me, and after more Googling, I contented myself that I did not, after all that, have cancer. Thank GOD for that!

I don't have cancer, but I still have a bum thyroid (technically, I have Hashimoto's thyroiditis). Fortunately, all that means is that I have to take synthetic thyroid hormone every day. I am feeling better and more energetic, so in terms of health problems, I guess this is a pretty good one to have.