I’ve never missed school for a cold, cough, or fever. I’ve always known that my health is important, but I’ve also been terrified to miss school for anything trivial, anything I could ignore until 2:30pm. Even if my head was about to explode or my nose was a snot fountain, it wasn’t anything that Advil, cough drops and a wad of tissues couldn’t fix.
Four years ago, however, I looked in the mirror and saw a large lump on my neck. Huh, I thought, I don’t think Advil can help this time. So I told my mom about it.
After seeing four different doctors, we learned that there was a nodule on my thyroid. My surgeon told me that the nodule was growing, and although it was probably benign, he would eventually need to remove it. Hopefully, that would be during the summer after I graduated high school, and I wouldn’t need to miss any more school than I already had from seeing so many doctors.
I missed another day of school at the end of freshman year to get an ultrasound, thinking it was just a checkup and I might be back in six months for another. But then my mom got a call saying that the nodule was growing faster than before, and Dr. Morris recommended that I should get it removed as soon as possible. “But I’m going to camp in July,” I told her. “And I really think I can make varsity this year.”
So we scheduled the surgery for December break of sophomore year. The nodule still looked benign, so the doctor said that delaying surgery for a few months wouldn’t matter. I told my close friends about it, but I didn’t want to worry them. “It’s a safe procedure,” I said. They still worried, but “the doctor’s done it a million times. I’ll be okay,” I assured them. And I believed it.
I listen to doctors more than other people do. If they tell me “you’re going to be find,” I’m going to be fine. “Don’t look this up online” – I stay off of Google and WebMD. “You can’t eat after midnight” – I stop snacking at 12:01. I was confident that my surgery would be the last time I had to miss school for my health.
I missed a week of school in December when Dr. Morris removed half of my thyroid. My teachers were incredibly understanding and made sure that I had enough time to catch up on material and complete assignments; my guidance counselor even told me that I could postpone my midterms if I needed to. It was the first time I had ever missed a large amount of school and the first time I realized that I could slow down and take time for myself.
On January 2nd, the pathology report arrived. The “nodule” was actually a cancerous tumor. I had thyroid cancer. Once again, I listened to the doctor when he told me that this type of cancer has a 99.9 percent cure rate for patients my age. I would need to get the other half of my thyroid removed and go on medication for the rest of my life, but once again, doctors told, “it’s a low-risk procedure. You have nothing to worry about.” It would be a hassle, but I would be fine.
At the same time, however, I started to wonder. What if I had noticed the lump on my neck a month earlier? What if I had lived elsewhere or had a different diet? What if I had noticed the lump on my neck a month earlier? What if I had lived elsewhere or had a different diet? What if I had gotten the surgery over the summer, like the doctor first recommended? We don’t know when the cancer first developed. Maybe if I had prioritized my health over varsity tennis, if I had been more afraid of what could happen to me, if i tried to take care of myself instead of toughing it out, I wouldn’t have gotten cancer.
I had the second surgery, and I take a little pink pill every morning, and I’m doing great. I’m healthier than ever, partly because I’m more conscious of my sleep, exercise, and dietary habits. I take breaks when I need to, and I know that school and tennis are second to my health. I miss a day of school once every few months to check up with my team of doctors, and the world hasn’t ended. I still have to take the little pink pill, but maybe I can prevent myself from having to take any other medication for the rest of my life. Maybe the next lump I find won’t turn into cancer. And maybe I’ll take a day off the next time I catch a cold.
~~Annie Liu