Nothing is as it seems to be
What had started out as a routine small operation became a nightmare. During a medical check-up , a small lump was discovered on my thyroid. I was in my early thirties with a very busy household of 5 children, a dairy farm of 45 cows and staff. I was on the run from morning till night, very fit and strong, with a love of running and fast sports. I played squash at least 4 times a week with a nimble-footed friend.
At an emotional level, which I now understand, I was in the process of growing up. I could not always have everything my way, and the little girl in me got quite angry. My social mask was firmly in place as the capable, dependable mother and wife. I now know that my thyroid was most probably reacting to the suppression of my anger which I felt from time to time, as an immature person would. I never voiced my displeasure. I became a wonderful ‘coper’. The thyroid is an indicator of this!
My doctor put the medical assessment of the lump on fast forward and before I knew it I was booked to have part of the thyroid removed. As a side note, not one professional person enquired about me; the focus was my throat, as if the rest of me did not exist. Today I know that communication often leads to spontaneous reversal of thyroid imbalances.
I made all the arrangements for kids and cows to be taken care of in my absence and presented myself, with full confidence as in those days, to the skill of the cancer surgeon. I would later learn that the operation went horribly wrong. I had cardiac arrest during the procedure but survived it. My vocal chord was cut, my oesophagus was crushed. I left the operating room blissfully unaware of the drama. After ten days I was sent home without anyone breathing a word of caution about heart damage or some such.
I coughed and coughed for months. Daily I choked as the paralyzed vocal chord and the crushed cartilage in the oesophagus collapsed. I could not talk, or smile, or swallow any food or drink with ease. After 4 months of this daily torture, I went to see the surgeon who announced that I was neurotic and should take a holiday. As he is not with us on earth any longer, I wish his soul to rest at peace, which I am sure he did not experience much of while he dealt with his conscience.