Zipper Neck
Wednesday, May 14, 2008 Posted In Family Edit This 1 Comment »
The name will make sense I promise. Keep reading.
It came to my attention a few weeks ago that my dad has been reading my blog and he commented to Andrew that I never write about him. Dad - I apologize for not writing more about you, this post is just for you. I will keep my eyes open from now on for blogworthy material pertaining to you. I don’t know if you will find that a blessing or a curse, but just remember that you brought it on yourself.
This is long overdue and I apologize for the amount of time it has taken me to do this.
A couple of months ago my Dad had a doctor’s appointment and he found out he would need surgery to remove his thyroid. I was told by my sister, Amy, who has had a similar surgery that my other sister, Amber, who is a nurse told her doctors don’t usually like to remove the entire thyroid. (Got that?) In our Dad’s case the doctor was worried about some nodules that were found and there was a possibility that it could be cancerous. When he was younger he worked for several years in a uranium mine and this worried the doctor. Apparently the only logical answer was to remove the entire thing and start my Dad on medication to treat the cancer if it came to that.
After my Dad’s doctor’s appointment in Reno Andrew and I joined my parents for lunch and as if it were any other conversation they explained to me what was going to happen. It didn’t faze me one bit that he could possibly have cancer. They were so calm in telling me it was almost like this is an everyday occurrence…no big deal. Right? About a week later I received an email from my sister, Amy, which went something like the following:
This is my home, cell, and work number. Call me ASAP.
What the heck is going on? You might think I’m a bad sister, but we don’t usually talk very often, so it was a little strange that she gave me every possible way to reach her. (I’ll blog about that later, no big deal.) After reading her email I immediately picked up the phone and called her at work. She asked how I was doing and I told her I was fine.
Amy - Fine good, fine bad, fine what?
Me – Fine good I guess. Why?
Amy – Well we heard about Dad and I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Amber and I are going to come out for his surgery.
At this point is when I started to worry. My sisters were going to fly to Reno for his surgery, he could possibly have cancer, and the doctor is going to slice open his neck to take out his thyroid. What is wrong with me? Why haven’t I been more worried? Have I been in denial? I hadn’t even thought about taking the time off to go be with him. Am I a bad daughter?
I will be the first to admit that I’m not the quickest person ever, but when I do figure out what’s going on I worry. I don’t worry like a normal person would though. When I start to worry I over think everything. I always think of the worst possible outcome and in my mind that’s what’s going to happen (even though it’s pretty likely it won’t). When I’m thinking clearly I’m pretty logical (for the most part), but once I get myself into worry mode any logical thought to be had goes right out the window and is replaced with gloom and doom.
My Mom reassured me that everything would be fine and there was no need to worry. I knew that was just the typical mother response to calm me down because at this point I was sobbing. My Daddy was not ok. This is not ok. This is the perfect time to worry. Right? The answer for me was yes. My Mom was out of town at the time, so she called my Dad and told him he should call me to let me know what was going to happen. I kept myself from crying while we were on the phone, but it was so hard. I wanted so badly to be strong for him and I didn’t want him to know how worried I was. He also reassured me that everything would be fine. I still wasn’t convinced, but I did feel a little better.
The day of his surgery finally came. We were supposed to meet my parents at the hospital around 10:00 because that’s when he was going to check in. My Mom called a couple of hours before we were supposed to meet and she said they were on their way to the hospital because the two surgeries before my Dad had to cancel. They wanted him as soon as he could get there. When we were finally able to get to the hospital he was already in surgery. I admit I was a little upset I didn’t get to see him before he went in, but I just hoped and prayed that everything would turn out ok.
Once the surgery was over the doctor came in and told my Mom it went well; he was in recovery and it would be about an hour before anyone could see him. About the cancer situation it would be at least a day before they would know anything, so at that point it was inconclusive. When we were finally able to see my Dad he told us he felt better than he ever had after surgery. It felt good to hear him say that.
Andrew and I had to leave Reno that night because we both had to work the next day. I really would have liked to stay with my family, but I had to go to Elko for training. It was kind of tough to concentrate on what I was doing the first half of the day because all I could think about was the possibility that he had cancer.
Around lunch time I was walking out the door to go get something to eat and my phone rang. It was my Mom. I took a deep breath, answered the phone, and she said they just got off the phone with the doctor. He said the nodules were benign (non-cancerous), so he could leave the hospital that day to go home. That was a huge relief.
After returning home I figured he would take it easy and milk the situation until he had to go back to work. Oh no, he was driving around the next day like nothing had happened. I kinda think he’s crazy, but I hope he can’t read letters this small.
I was informed that his stitches were removed the day after the surgery and they were replaced with some thin strips of medical tape. I didn’t know it was ok to remove stitches less than 24 hours after being cut open, but the doctor knows more than I do, so there you go. I told my Mom I hope he didn’t have to sneeze. That would be a pain in the neck…I apologize, that was horrible I know. So now being the funny guy he thinks he is, he’s going around calling himself a “zipper neck” because he thinks his neck wound looks like a zipper. All I have to say is eeeeww.
*Thank you for the thoughts and prayers to those of you who knew ahead of time about his surgery. I really appreciate it and I’m sure he does too.
It came to my attention a few weeks ago that my dad has been reading my blog and he commented to Andrew that I never write about him. Dad - I apologize for not writing more about you, this post is just for you. I will keep my eyes open from now on for blogworthy material pertaining to you. I don’t know if you will find that a blessing or a curse, but just remember that you brought it on yourself.
This is long overdue and I apologize for the amount of time it has taken me to do this.
A couple of months ago my Dad had a doctor’s appointment and he found out he would need surgery to remove his thyroid. I was told by my sister, Amy, who has had a similar surgery that my other sister, Amber, who is a nurse told her doctors don’t usually like to remove the entire thyroid. (Got that?) In our Dad’s case the doctor was worried about some nodules that were found and there was a possibility that it could be cancerous. When he was younger he worked for several years in a uranium mine and this worried the doctor. Apparently the only logical answer was to remove the entire thing and start my Dad on medication to treat the cancer if it came to that.
After my Dad’s doctor’s appointment in Reno Andrew and I joined my parents for lunch and as if it were any other conversation they explained to me what was going to happen. It didn’t faze me one bit that he could possibly have cancer. They were so calm in telling me it was almost like this is an everyday occurrence…no big deal. Right? About a week later I received an email from my sister, Amy, which went something like the following:
This is my home, cell, and work number. Call me ASAP.
What the heck is going on? You might think I’m a bad sister, but we don’t usually talk very often, so it was a little strange that she gave me every possible way to reach her. (I’ll blog about that later, no big deal.) After reading her email I immediately picked up the phone and called her at work. She asked how I was doing and I told her I was fine.
Amy - Fine good, fine bad, fine what?
Me – Fine good I guess. Why?
Amy – Well we heard about Dad and I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Amber and I are going to come out for his surgery.
At this point is when I started to worry. My sisters were going to fly to Reno for his surgery, he could possibly have cancer, and the doctor is going to slice open his neck to take out his thyroid. What is wrong with me? Why haven’t I been more worried? Have I been in denial? I hadn’t even thought about taking the time off to go be with him. Am I a bad daughter?
I will be the first to admit that I’m not the quickest person ever, but when I do figure out what’s going on I worry. I don’t worry like a normal person would though. When I start to worry I over think everything. I always think of the worst possible outcome and in my mind that’s what’s going to happen (even though it’s pretty likely it won’t). When I’m thinking clearly I’m pretty logical (for the most part), but once I get myself into worry mode any logical thought to be had goes right out the window and is replaced with gloom and doom.
My Mom reassured me that everything would be fine and there was no need to worry. I knew that was just the typical mother response to calm me down because at this point I was sobbing. My Daddy was not ok. This is not ok. This is the perfect time to worry. Right? The answer for me was yes. My Mom was out of town at the time, so she called my Dad and told him he should call me to let me know what was going to happen. I kept myself from crying while we were on the phone, but it was so hard. I wanted so badly to be strong for him and I didn’t want him to know how worried I was. He also reassured me that everything would be fine. I still wasn’t convinced, but I did feel a little better.
The day of his surgery finally came. We were supposed to meet my parents at the hospital around 10:00 because that’s when he was going to check in. My Mom called a couple of hours before we were supposed to meet and she said they were on their way to the hospital because the two surgeries before my Dad had to cancel. They wanted him as soon as he could get there. When we were finally able to get to the hospital he was already in surgery. I admit I was a little upset I didn’t get to see him before he went in, but I just hoped and prayed that everything would turn out ok.
Once the surgery was over the doctor came in and told my Mom it went well; he was in recovery and it would be about an hour before anyone could see him. About the cancer situation it would be at least a day before they would know anything, so at that point it was inconclusive. When we were finally able to see my Dad he told us he felt better than he ever had after surgery. It felt good to hear him say that.
Andrew and I had to leave Reno that night because we both had to work the next day. I really would have liked to stay with my family, but I had to go to Elko for training. It was kind of tough to concentrate on what I was doing the first half of the day because all I could think about was the possibility that he had cancer.
Around lunch time I was walking out the door to go get something to eat and my phone rang. It was my Mom. I took a deep breath, answered the phone, and she said they just got off the phone with the doctor. He said the nodules were benign (non-cancerous), so he could leave the hospital that day to go home. That was a huge relief.
After returning home I figured he would take it easy and milk the situation until he had to go back to work. Oh no, he was driving around the next day like nothing had happened. I kinda think he’s crazy, but I hope he can’t read letters this small.
I was informed that his stitches were removed the day after the surgery and they were replaced with some thin strips of medical tape. I didn’t know it was ok to remove stitches less than 24 hours after being cut open, but the doctor knows more than I do, so there you go. I told my Mom I hope he didn’t have to sneeze. That would be a pain in the neck…I apologize, that was horrible I know. So now being the funny guy he thinks he is, he’s going around calling himself a “zipper neck” because he thinks his neck wound looks like a zipper. All I have to say is eeeeww.
*Thank you for the thoughts and prayers to those of you who knew ahead of time about his surgery. I really appreciate it and I’m sure he does too.
1 comments:
A very emotiove post Allie. Zipper neck, thats the kind of joke Chopper would come up with!
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