Life After Surgery

It was time for my follow-up appointment, two and a half weeks after having surgery to remove a tiny parathyroid gland from my throat. Dr. Helmi Khadra, Chief of Endocrine Surgery at Houston Methodist, walked into the room with a bit of a strut, and a wait ’til you hear this look on his face. “Ok, so the average parathyroid gland is about 30 to 50 milligrams in size,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. “Yours was 1,193 milligrams.” He looked kind of pleased. I guess if you go fishing in people’s necks week after week for parathyroid glands, it’s nice to catch an occasional whopper. 

I didn’t know whether to be proud or horrified. “It’s clearly in the 90th percentile in size – and it's not cancer,” he added. I knew that cancer wasn’t a high probability, but given the size, it was nice to hear. 

I asked the good doctor what, exactly, was I to make of this information? “It’s been there a long time – maybe decades,” he said. “You’re just going to feel better and better and better.” 

Last month, in A Diagnosis: Can be a Good Thing, I wrote about finding out I had something called hyperparathyroidism and that a simple surgery to remove an enlarged gland called a parathyroid would cure my condition. (It’s not my thyroid gland, but sits behind it.)

Now I am rethinking a story I had been telling myself and others since 2009 when I had brain surgery to remove a meningioma tumor the size of my fist. It too, fortunately, was not cancer, but left me a little weak on my left side. In time, I developed this swimming sensation in my head, and thought it was the aging effects of having undergone a 10-hour brain surgery. I likened it to football players affected by concussions later in life. 

I kept a fake it ’til you make it attitude, trying to keep up with Stan-the-Man on various hikes over the years, which had gotten harder and harder. I went to the gym three times a week, with a frustrating lack of results. Still, I thought it was just the way it was and kind of accepted things.

Then, in the last year or so, it got worse. Every time I got up to walk, it felt like someone put a spoon in my head and was constantly stirring. I was beyond fatigued, waking up tired, getting a few good hours in the morning then crashing all afternoon. 

Finally, my blood tests started consistently revealing high calcium levels, enough to make my family practice doctor, Imaad Siddiqi, do some more testing. “I think you have hyperparathyroidism.”

A simple day surgery to remove a tiny gland from my neck seems to have changed my life. Once the gland is removed, the cure is automatic. They test your blood calcium level right there on the operating table. When it reads normal, they send you home. 

The afternoon of the surgery, I walked into my house and could actually feel the bottom of my feet connecting with the floor in a way that I couldn’t before. I lifted my left leg, and stood on my right leg for some 30 seconds for the first time in years. 

The fatigue is gone, and sometimes waves of euphoria emerge. On the flip side, I can get irritable too, snapping at people who don’t deserve it. I thought I had mellowed over the years, but in reality, I guess I was just too tired to get mad.

Now I need to adjust to my newfound energy. I have often said, I have stopped worrying because I couldn’t remember what to worry about; I have given up anger because it takes too much energy and I have saved myself from making the wrong snap decisions by procrastinating. Now that I have these new superpowers, I must learn to use them for good and not for evil. 

As I write this, I’m a week away from getting on a plane to France with Stan-the-Man where I will turn 70. I am leaving with a heart full of gratitude and expectation for the days to come. 

Much of that gratitude comes from so many of you who read last month's column and reached out with such interest and concern. Some of you had your own stories of having this same surgery. But the good news is most catch this before it is as debilitating as mine. I enjoyed hearing your stories, comparing notes, and feeling your love. 

I’m grateful for this good period of health for as long as it lasts, knowing that life is short. As we enter this holiday season, I’m reminded that every day is holy.