“Lord, let me make a difference for you that is utterly disproportionate to who I am.” David Brainerd

After receiving my grades the last couple weeks, I can safely say I survived my first year of law school, and I am a rising 2L. Not having surgery mid-semester in the spring (as I did in the fall) reflected positively on my grades, and I did noticeably better. I wasn’t sure if I was really cut out for this law school thing, but with minimal medical interruptions this spring, my hard-work actually showed some fruit in the end.

In addition, I did my first oral argument this spring. Unlike many of my classmates who thrive in the idea of speaking and arguing in the courtroom, the practice is not something I enjoy (believe it or not, there are lawyers who don’t spend their careers in the courtroom ;)). However, my argument, in front of a panel of lawyers I had never met, turned out to be…fun? I never thought I would do anything like that in my life, and I truly felt like I overcame a great obstacle when I finished.

Mayo Clinic

At the end of May, I traveled to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, because my doctors in Chicago suggested I try some alternative thyroid cancer treatment before going in for another surgery. I flew up there for what was supposed to be about a three day procedure: I’d have a bunch of tests run on the first day and meet with the doctors to create a plan, and then the next two days would be the treatment.

My parents flew in from San Francisco, and the first day we were in the clinic from 6 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. I had a bunch of blood work done and scans. After several meetings throughout the afternoon with various doctors, I learned I was not a candidate for the alternative treatment after all. I must say, I didn’t think this was even a possibility.

They showed me my imaging, and there was more cancer present than they expected to see. The suspicious spots were too close together for the treatment to be safe. At the end of the day, I learned I would have yet another surgery. This time, I will go to Mayo for the surgery, making this my fourth surgery, fourth hospital, and fourth surgeon in 2 years.

Yet again, the new surgeon made a point of telling me that with the amount of surgeries I’ve had and the location of the masses, I need to be prepared for permanent vocal damage. Of course, this is not easy news to stomach. I’ve had the warnings before each surgery, and seem to defy the odds, but as I have more and more surgeries, the odds will probably not be in my favor. I’ll have to summon my inner Katniss Everdeen and hope for the best.

I find myself singing more freely these days, and praying harder than ever for my voice remain unharmed. Unless, of course, I end up with a raspy blues or Nora Jones voice. THEN, color me blessed.

They told me I could schedule my surgery within a couple weeks of my visit, but I decided to wait. I have one week between summer and fall classes, and I plan on making the trip then. In my opinion, if more grows or becomes visible–great–they can get it all out at that time. Without my body responding to radiation, the only option is for masses visible to the eye to be removed in surgery, so waiting for masses to become visible sounds fine to me. My fourth surgery will be August 12, 2014.

Summer 2014

This summer, I am a full-time legal intern for Equip for Equality. I had such a positive experience working there this spring, and I couldn’t be more pleased to come on full-time for the summer. I’ve been able to do a lot of research lately, and I am learning more than I could have hoped for. I am also taking Evidence with a bunch of my friends. It reminds me of taking Criminal Law last summer, which was probably the best summer of my life.

Thank you

Thank you for all who continue to read and support me on this long journey. I can’t thank you enough for reaching out to me and lending your thoughts and prayers. I often find myself numb to the scans, blood work, meetings, surgeries, etc. It’s so routine these days, that I often forget to rest in the weight of what I’m going through physically, emotionally, intellectually…

The longer I go without writing on here, the more I feel like I’m missing out on an opportunity to truly find myself and become a stronger, healthy woman. Thank you all for challenging me to put my pride aside, and sometimes recognize that this can be tough, it can be frustrating, and it can be completely exhausting. Someday I’ll be able to close this chapter of my life, and move on. Until then, I rest in Jesus’ promise to be present through it all.

I spoke with an assistant at Mayo Clinic today regarding my alternative treatment for thyroid cancer. The treatment is called ethanol ablation, and you can read my brief explanation in my last blog here. It’s been another month of running around the hospital systems in Chicago, gathering my various pathology slides, imaging CDs, reports, etc., to send to Mayo for review.

Right now it appears my treatment will be two days back-to-back at the end of May (28-29), and I am so thankful that this will be after finals! They plan on doing the treatment, but I found out today the doctor I was referred to is not the one administering the treatment, but instead a resident doctor. Little surprises like this make it difficult to prepare and know what I’m getting myself into. 

Another hiccup in this process is that the hospital with my team of doctors will stop accepting my insurance in three weeks. It has taken two years to feel as though I have a team who has my back and knows me. Thankfully Mayo takes my insurance, and my surgeries are at another hospital that accepts my insurance, but my endocrinologist and the team that regulates my medication and treatment plan is now out of the scope of my insurance, and this is very difficult for me to stomach. Please pray for some direction with this.

Law school has been the most challenging experience of my life–emotionally, physically, intellectually–and there have been many days I just don’t want to be there, many days where I feel like I don’t belong. At the same time, however, I am so sure this is where I am supposed to be. Thank God for my internship this semester, and the incredibly gratifying work I’ve experienced at Equip for Equality through advocating for those with disabilities and their right to be free from abuse and neglect. Without this, I don’t know if I would see any light at the end of the tunnel.

There is one month of this semester left, and I can say I survived 1L year of law school, despite surgery in the middle of the first semester, biopsies every couples months, ultrasounds, body scans, PET scans, blood work, and immeasurable exhaustion. One month until I can say I made it. Thank God.

Easter is this weekend, and I can’t wait. Jesus is the reason I have hope.

Your love it beckons deeply, 
A call to come and die.
By grace now I will come 
And take this life, take your life.

Sin has lost it’s power,
Death has lost it’s sting.
From the grave you’ve risen
Victoriously!

Barrister’s Ball (law school prom)

“What we have is time. And what we do is waste it, waiting for those big spectacular moments. We think that something’s about to happen — something enormous and news-worthy — but for most of us, it isn’t. This is what I know: the big moments are the tiny moments. The breakthroughs are often silent, and they happen in the most unassuming of spaces.”

(Shauna Niequist, Why You Should Stop Waiting for Life to Be Perfect)

Since my last post, I “celebrated” my one-year diagnosis of thyroid cancer. Crazy, isn’t it? Sometimes it feels like just yesterday, other times it seems much longer.  Two major surgeries, radiation, physical therapy, medication adjustments, ER visits, etc.–a crazy year it’s been.

Law school orientation was last week, and it brought an array of emotions. Last year, the first day of orientation was when I deferred school because of my recent diagnosis. It was the strangest deja vu, as you can imagine. The format was the same as the year before, and I remembered vividly the break in the schedule when I went to the Dean, made the decision to defer and took the train home, feeling discouraged and feeling like a failure.

This time, when that break came in the schedule, I remained in my seat and I a certain sense of accomplishment swept over me. It may just be the beginning of my law school career, but it is the beginning of a journey that seemed so distant for this year.

View of the Chicago skyline from the deck of Shedd Aquarium

After the third day of orientation, Andrew and I went to Shedd Aquarium and enjoyed live jazz for the evening. While taking in the beauty of the aquarium and listening to the music, I was suddenly overwhelmed by it all. I realized just how different my life is now than it was a year a go. Not just in the oh-you-have-cancer kind of way, but in every facet imaginable.

Last year at this time, I frantically moved across the country, traveled around the summer for several weddings, rode my bike from Cincinnati to D.C., made one friend at the pre-orientation law school mixer (thanks Laurel 🙂 ) and was diagnosed with cancer. It was a whirlwind heading into orientation week, and I was terrified. I didn’t know anything about the law. I didn’t know how my health would pan out. I didn’t know how to navigate Chicago. I didn’t have many friends and was too shy to really reach out. I started questioning where I was supposed to be, who I was supposed to be and if I was kidding myself with becoming a lawyer.

Yes, this year was challenging– yes, my health comes and goes, but you know what I have? I have a family who will do anything for me. I have a God who remains steadfast with me. I have more friends from school than a girl could ever hope for–friends who stick by me during every health season and act as family. I also have one law class completed, and I actually believe I did very well (we’ll see when the grade comes back ;)). I have favorite “spots” in Chicago and have fallen even more in love with this city.

When I realize every blessing I have been given this year, I am overwhelmed.

At the completion of orientation week, I met Professor Walters at the Dean’s Welcome Reception. I would have had Walters last year for Contracts, and throughout the year, he has been a huge supporter and encourager via email and Twitter, without even meeting me in person. It was great to finally meet him and talk with him for a while. I updated him on my current health and the unclear future. We talked about what it is like to accept my “new normal” and to push ahead through this year. He said he thought it was important I felt connected to the institution while I wasn’t there–and by his efforts I can say I truly did. He encouraged me to keep in touch and said I’ll always be part of his section, even though I was placed in a different section this year :).

Neck scan and next steps

This Wednesday, August 28, I have another neck ultrasound to see if they can find the remaining cancerous tissue. I will have the results and talk of further steps the following Wednesday, September 4.  This potentially will tell me if we’re looking at another surgery in the near (or distant) future and/or alternative treatments (since radiation seems to not be working any more). If you think of me in the next couple weeks, please say a short prayer over these two important days. I am determined to go through this semester as planned, and I am concerned my situation may interfere with school again.

It’s your move

I am so excited to be on the road toward fighting human trafficking and modern-day slavery at the legal level. International Justice Mission released this new video, which pumps me up even more. Please take a moment to watch, and if for no other reason, see myself and my friend at minute 1:15 😉

Freed people, free people. Let’s do this.

Summer is winding down quickly. I have one week left of my main job, two weeks left of summer school, DCI finals are just around the corner, I’m moving apartments and before I know it, I’ll be in full-time school. I’m holding on to each day and look forward to finishing the summer strong.

Pitchfork Music Festival

Last weekend, Andrew and I went to Pitchfork. The day was filled with three stages of great music, great beer and memorable weather. We also hit it off with people from the Rock for Kids booth–a great nonprofit in Chicago bringing music education to underserved children. I’m hoping to volunteer with them eventually.

The headline of the concert was Bjork, and she certainly delivered. While most of the day was beautiful and sunny, the concert ended with Bjork saying, “Well, I was just informed by the weather service that you all must leave now. I should tell you this wouldn’t have been the case if we were in Iceland.” Hah. So, we all evacuated and within minutes there was torrential downpour. An abrupt ending, but a memorable day nonetheless.

Click to watch us dance.

‘Tumor Marker’ and PET Scan Results

Prior to my last scan and then this PET scan, I had blood work completed to check out my thyroglobulin level. This is considered a “tumor marker” and signals problems. If everything was clear, it would be 0. Having even 1 or 2 is considered high for thyroid cancer patients. My level came back 9.1, which means there is certainly remaining cells in my body. After a failed full-body scan which would normally show anything remaining in the body, no matter how small, we went to plan B and did a PET scan a couple weeks a go. While an extremely detailed and powerful test, PET scans only show sizable masses, so my doctor was not expecting to see what he needed to see.

As anticipated, the scan came back clear. This would be great news, if they thought another round of radiation would take care of anything remaining. However, it appears my body is not responding to radiation any longer, so we are essentially waiting until cells are large enough to see on scans and then deciding where to go from there. This could mean further surgery or alternative treatment. It’s just a waiting game at this point. I’ll have a neck ultrasound August 26, the first week of my full-time law school classes, and then I’ll talk with my doctor the next week to talk about treatment and next steps.

If you are the praying type, I ask you to kindly lift up the next couple months for me. It is unnerving that I could potentially be in the same position I was last year around this time (diagnosed just days before school began, had to pursue surgery and radiation, thus putting school off a year). My heart is heavy knowing how this could potentially pan out.

Criminal Law

No matter what happens at the beginning of the school year, one fact remains, I’ll have completed my first law school class! It’s hard to believe there are only two weeks remaining in this course (terrifying). I’ve been joking with my friends that if school is hindered again this fall, I could just take one class every summer and graduate in a decade. 😉 Oi

Physical healing

I am continuing to heal from the latest surgery and pursue physical therapy. Some days are much better than others. Lately it’s been frustrating because my face has been particularly swollen. While my body weight is now exactly like it was before the surgeries and radiation (small victory), my face is very swollen. I can tell in every picture of myself and every time I look in the mirror now–it’s a constant reminder that everything has changed.

It may not be obvious to others, but it’s infuriating to me. My surgeon said that because they removed over 50 lymph nodes in my neck between the surgeries, my body has a difficult time draining from surgery and repairing itself like a body normally would. There’s a lot of residual fluid that may never leave. This also contributes you my consistent pain.

I can tell you, it is certainly humbling. I try not to let it get to my head (and face 😉 ). I’m learning to let go and try to think less about what used to be and instead focus on what is and what will be. 

Feeding my Adventurous Spirit

I was rereading some of my favorite sections of Into the Wild the other day. I do this frequently when I have an itch to just run away to a new adventure, meet new people and breath in new air (often…very often). I wanted to share the following excerpt with you all. I hope it brings you life and challenges you, the same.

“I’d like to repeat the advice that I gave you before, in that I think you really should make a radical change in your lifestyle and begin to boldly do things which you may previously never have thought of doing, or been too hesitant to attempt. So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.

If you want to get more out of life, you must lose your inclination for monotonous security and adopt a helter-skelter style of life that will at first appear to you to be crazy. But once you become accustomed to such a life you will see its full meaning and its incredible beauty. And so, in short, get out of Salton City and hit the Road. I guarantee you will be very glad you did. But I fear that you will ignore my advice. You think that I am stubborn, but you are even more stubborn than me. You had a wonderful chance on your drive back to see one of the greatest sights on earth, the Grand Canyon, something every American should see at least once in his life. But for some reason incomprehensible to me you wanted nothing but to bolt for home as quickly as possible, right back to the same situation which you see day after day after day. I fear you will follow this same inclination in the future and thus fail to discover all the wonderful things that God has placed around us to discover.

Don’t settle down and sit in one place. Move around, be nomadic, make each day a new horizon. You are still going to live a long time, and it would be a shame if you did not take the opportunity to revolutionize your life and move into an entirely new realm of experience.

You are wrong if you think Joy emanates only or principally from human relationships. God has placed it all around us. It is in everything and anything we might experience. We just have to have the courage to turn against our habitual lifestyle and engage in unconventional living.

My point is that you do not need me or anyone else around to bring this new kind of light in your life. It is simply waiting out there for you to grasp it, and all you have to do is reach for it. The only person you are fighting is yourself and your stubbornness to engage in new circumstances.”
— Jon Krakauer (Into the Wild)

Rolls of thunder echo outside my window, and I find it fitting to write and reflect tonight. It’s my last night before beginning the long-awaited journey in law school. That’s right, tomorrow night, I start school. It’s 9 months later than anticipated, but also not a moment to soon.

Surgery #2 Update

My incision is healing beautifully! I’m so impressed, and certainly satisfied with my change in surgeons. I’m substantially more tired right now, because I don’t think my thyroid medication has been correctly adjusted after this surgery, but I’m doing a great job of faking it! 😉 By around 2 p.m. I’m normally in desperate need of time to recoup–not necessarily a nap, but time to rest my mind and body. I rarely find the time to, but it’s nearly clockwork each day.

My pain is tolerable and I often find myself forgetting about it! My right ear, neck and right shoulder are still numb, but I’ve learned to wear different neck-lines again, no matter how uncomfortable (before anything that rested on my collar bones was intolerable). It’s a game of adaptability and pain tolerance, and I’m winning 😉

School Orientation

Last week we had school orientation, and it not only made me extremely excited about the subject matter (something I’ve been questioning for awhile now), but I have already made some great friends. Every person I’ve talked to has such a unique  and incredible life-story. Either this reflects admirably on Chicago-Kent’s admissions committee, or it shows that as we age, we are given more opportunity to write meaningful stories with our lives that will impact people daily. I believe the latter has the most to do with it.

It’s such a beautiful concept–our life stories are merging together for a few short years to co-write the next chapter in our lives, before moving on to the next. I pray we write a story together that is memorable and noteworthy, not only to ourselves but to our friends, family and community. 

Who’s story inspires you? Tell them.

Skin Biopsy

Last week I went to the dermatologist for the first time. After several years of drum corps (two of which I never wore sunscreen…I know, terrible), I figured it would be good to have a general check up before the summer. To my surprise, they decided to remove a mole from my stomach that day and send it to pathology. I received the results today–it’s a dysplastic (atypical) mole, which is the stage moles gets to right before cancer. (Seriously, I wish I was making this up. hah). Because of these results, I am up to 30% more likely to have melanoma sometime in my life, so I will be going to the dermatologist every six months for a full-body check up.

I am relieved that they took proactive measures and removed it, but part of me is heavy-laden. While I am hopefully nearing my thyroid cancer treatment end, having another cancer scare surface, a multitude of emotions arise. I’ve always been a very healthy person–active, eating well, taking vitamins, rarely sick and never missed a beat. Then 9 months ago the rug was pulled out from under me.

Trying to remove the “cancer” stigma

Since my thyroid cancer diagnoses last summer, the hardest struggle I have faced has been emotionally the last five months. As a 23-year-old single woman, carrying the tainted tag of “cancer” begins to weigh heavily on your heart. Your thoughts frequently turn to feeling like “damaged goods” for anyone who might be interested in you. You start to feel guilty allowing people in because you have this stigma that will never be erased. Think of the people in your life who have had cancer. After knowing they have had cancer, how often do you think of them independently of that title? I know I unintentionally always marry the two. I don’t want people to think of me and think “cancer.” It’s such an isolating thought.

Even though I know I will be fine eventually, and I will live a full life, part of me feels selfish to enter any kind of relationship. I often feel as though I’ve lost a part of my health that I will never get back and this could potentially impact my future kids, so who wants to willingly walk into that mess? How is that fair to them?

I am normally not one to admit any of the above, but I’ve learned from my thyroid cancer community on instagram (several ladies who I considered close friends), transparency for others walking this road is essential. I’m strong and stubborn to push past any adversity, but I’m learning to put my ego aside and let people know when it hurts. Believe me, it’s not easy. If I had it my way, you would think the last 9 months of my life has been a walk in the park.

I am afraid of appearing weak or look like I’m seeking pity, but I’m sure I’m not the only one who has struggled with this, and I want to be honest to anyone who might be following my story and struggling in similar ways. You are not alone.