The Road to Hashimoto's

corners of my lips curl up kind of thank you

9:18am Gilbert, AZ

“Do you have a history of cancer in your family?”, asked the doctor.

“No.” I replied softly as she lifted up my left arm. My voice was meek and I could hardly recognize it as my own.

The pads of her fingers pressed firmly into my pecs, down over my breasts, making her way across every inch of my bare skin. I took slow breaths in and out as she lowered my arm, walked around the chair to the other side and raised my right arm to repeat the exam.

If she was talking again at this point, I didn’t hear her.

Tom and I had been dancing the night away the weekend before at a wedding in Spokane, WA. I woke up on Sunday morning with a small lump above my right clavicle. I ignored it for a bit, Monday hit and the busyness of the week swept me up in its current. I figured it was just a bug that would go away.

By Wednesday afternoon it physically hurt to lift my arm up and the lump had gotten significantly bigger. Damn it all, I don’t have time for this. After I picked the boys up from school, I went straight to urgent care. Embarrassingly enough, I wanted to see if I could get it figured out before basketball practice at 6. Ha.

At urgent care, the nurse gave me a bunch of tests; things like covid, strep etc. Everything came back negative. She ordered me to get an ultrasound and the earliest they could do it was the following week. As I was leaving she said, “If it gets any bigger, go to the emergency room.”

I woke up the following morning, once again, in pain. The lump had just about doubled in size from the night before. I could barely lift my arm and the sensation went from the top of my neck all the way down to my elbow. By this point I had googled it. You know how they always say don’t google it? Well, they’re right. Not only was I in pain, I didn’t get much sleep the night before.

Enlarged lymph nodes above the collarbone: Enlarged lymph nodes above the collarbone (supraclavicular lymphadenopathy) are always considered abnormal. These generally suggest cancer or an infection in the region close by. Examples include lung infection, lung cancer, lymphoma in the chest cavity, or breast cancer.

I was grateful when Tom confirmed my feelings by saying, “You need to go in.” He got the boys ready for school as I pulled on my Levis, a loose hoodie and brushed my teeth. I got in my car and drove myself to the Emergency Room.

I went through triage and found myself sitting in the small, square windowless room with a large group of butterflies swirling through my chest. I don’t even want to tell you how many times we’ve been in the ER since becoming wild boy parents but this time felt different — I had too much quiet time alone with my thoughts.

I laid on the exam chair thinking about my family and how busy things have been. I thought about all of the things I still wanted, no needed to do. I thought a lot about all of the women I’ve known that have received a life changing diagnosis. I thought about how things can change so quickly.

The doctors were in and out. I answered a lot of questions that morning, racking my brain for the right answer. After the exam, they all left and I just remember feeling really small wishing Tom was there. When you have little kids, life has to go on.

They wanted to start with a blood work and a CT scan to check everything out. I was relieved to hear this. This would tell us a lot.

They came in to draw my blood and ended up taking a few large vials. Things like that used to freak me out but I’m telling you, after going through two pregnancies with the never ending appointments and both being very different and very intense deliveries, a blood draw doesn’t seem so bad.

After the CT scan, I found myself back in the room — time to wait. I cursed myself for not grabbing a book, notebook, sketchbook or something before I left the house. I pictured my little strawberry tote bag full of books and pens hanging by the door and bummed out. I’m not kidding when I say I always take that bag with me everywhere I go. Alas, my mind was bogged that morning and I couldn’t change it now.

Just then, I heard a soft tap at the door. Tom walked in and gave me a gentle smile. My shoulders dropped away from my ears and I burst into tears. He came over to my side, kissed my forehead, slid into a chair next to me, his hand enveloping mine.

I asked about drop off and we talked about the weekend. He got me a warm blanket and some water and I sent a group message to my worried family.

After about an hour, there was a knock on the door and the doctor came in. I held Tom’s hand tight. The doctor looked down at his paperwork and said, “Your CT came back clear. We believe the swelling is from a bad infection so we’ll start you on antibiotics and steroids right away.”

Relief. An actual wave of light buttery relief swam from my heart through every limb of my body … and finally, an exhale.

They swiftly hooked me up to an IV and with immense gratitude I felt first dose of icy meds make their way through my veins. I settled in, really settled in and closed my eyes.

Forty-five minutes later I had my prescription and was on my way out the door with directions to follow up with my PCP in 10 days.

I didn’t have a PCP. Actually, I’ve never had one, so I called around, found one and made the follow up appointment. It felt important to do the follow up and I figured it was probably time to have a PCP now that I’m sliding toward my 40s.

A little over a week later I was sitting in the waiting room completing the gigantic health questionnaire. During my appointment they checked me out from head to toe. Just as she was finishing up, she felt my neck and said, “Did you know your thyroid is enlarged?”

Huh? Nope, I surely did not.

So it was more questions, more bloodwork, an ultrasound and another follow-up. I scheduled my appointment to come back in two weeks for all of the results.

Those two weeks flew by and my lymph was back down to normal. I kept reassuring myself that all was good. I got to the office for my results and was ushered into an exam room by a nice nurse wearing maroon scrubs, brand new black nikes and a big smile. Let’s do this.

I felt ready as I waited on the edge of the small couch. The doctor came in with a clipboard of paperwork, my lab results. She went down the line, good, good, good, good. Then she hit me with it.

“Your bloodwork shows that you have Hashimoto’s Disease.”

She said it so casually and followed it with all of the levels and numbers and ranges. I was sitting there with my eyebrows down really trying to grasp what just happened. I’ve heard of Hashimoto’s but I really had no idea what it meant for me.
So first things first, WHAT is Hashimoto’s Disease?

It’s an autoimmune disorder.

Genetics. Stress. Environment.

After I found this out and started digging, honestly, it explains a lot. I’ve struggled with Raynaud’s Phenomenon (undiagnosed) for almost a decade and in my 20s I thought I had stage 3 adrenal fatigue but the doctor confirmed that it was probably a really bad Hashimoto’s flare.

Anyways, I was given a packet of information and sent on my way. I felt sorry for myself for a bit and even cried a couple times but if you know me then you know what happens next. I stirred up my fierce determination and decided to learn everything I possibly could about how I could be the healthiest version of myself I could be.

Not to overwhelm me, the doctor started me off with three things I could. She said to come back in 3-4 months so they could check my bloodwork again.

1. Remove all gluten from your diet, soy too, if you can.

2. Get a high quality selenium supplement for thyroid health and take one a day.

3. Exercise 30 minutes a day.

The morning after my appointment my family and I flew to Paris, France. I tucked all of my news in the back of my mind and I ate every single freakin’ croissant I could possibly get my hands on. One week later when we returned home, I got to work.

I recently had my first 3 month check-up. Since passionately doing all of the recommendations above, my numbers really improved. The doctor actually celebrated with me and it made me feel good, like I’m on the right track. I’ll be doing these blood checks every 3-4 months for the rest of my life and I’ve got my eye set on stability. To keep everything stable now is the goal.

As I finish up this post, I feel grateful — and I don’t want to just throw that word around like #grateful but seriously, I feel so damn grateful like stopping to place a hand on my heart as the corners of my lips curl up kind of thank you, ya know?

Although I’m still processing what it means to have an autoimmune disorder and how that will shape different parts of my life as the years go by, I know how differently those appointments could have gone.

If I ever get lost in the shuffle of the busy, I’m going to come back here and read this post. A reminder to take notice and truly see life in even the smallest of things.

Thank you for reading, xo Elyse’