Can you live a long life without a thyroid?
|
Show What is the thyroid?The thyroid gland can be found at the front of the neck under the larynx. A functional thyroid produces hormones that control the body’s metabolism as well as the heart, digestive function, muscle control, brain development, mood, and bone maintenance. Having an issue with your thyroid can lead to an array of health problems. What is a thyroidectomy?A thyroidectomy is the removal of the thyroid gland. Performed through a small horizontal incision in the front of the neck, the procedure is minimally invasive. Why would you need this surgery?There are several reasons why your doctor might feel you need a thyroidectomy. The reasons are as follows:
Thyroid cancer is the most common reason for a thyroidectomy. Most cases of thyroid cancer result in the removal of a large portion, if not all, of the thyroid. The degree to which your life would change after a thyroidectomy varies depending on how much of the thyroid was removed. Some people experience neck pain or a weak voice in the days or weeks after, but this improves over a time. Your doctors will recommend that you temporarily refrain from strenuous physical activity. If you had a partial thyroidectomy, the remaining portions should take over normal thyroid functions. For those who have had a complete removal, they will need to take a synthetic hormone replacement every day. Whether you are doing research for yourself or for a loved one, look into our Thyroid Care Collaborative for support in your journey, and take a look at our other thyroid articles for more information about thyroid cancer. A large portion of the THANC Foundation’s efforts are committed to supporting and conducting research, as well as offering factual information about thyroid, head and neck cancer. This involves publishing current research, providing guidance for the cancer journey, as well as explaining medical concepts in a digestible format. 30 Stories in 30 DaysSeptember is Thyroid Cancer Awareness Month. For the next 4 weeks, we will post stories written by thyroid cancer survivors, caregivers and friends for our 30 Stories in 30 Days campaign. We hope their perspectives and insight will help others along their journey.
This website uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience on our website. Learn moreGot it! When I first noticed symptoms of what turned out to be a cancer diagnosis, I thought I was suffering from springtime allergies. My nose felt stuffy, and I was experiencing dull ear pain and pressure inside my ear canal—which I attributed to the fact that I was blowing my nose so much. I also had a raspy voice, which I assumed was the result of postnasal drip (secretion draining from my nose into my throat). At the time, I was a busy single mom of a 6-year-old boy and worked in publishing and as an author. So I resorted to my usual over-the-counter (OTC) allergy meds, armed myself with tissues, and waited for my symptoms to pass. But a month later, I was still using nasal spray 24/7. Thankfully my yearly checkup with my internist was rounding the corner. At my appointment, my doctor examined my neck with her cold hands and asked me how long my voice had sounded so scratchy. "I dunno, maybe a month?" I replied. "What about this lump?" she continued. "How long has this been there?" She pressed her hand into my neck, and I gulped; the area felt tender to her touch. She then guided my fingers to the right side of my neck. What I touched made my eyes widen and my brow crinkle up in confusion: It felt like a grape was in my neck. After that day, things happened at warp speed. My seasonal allergy symptoms and raspy voice turned out to be subtle signs that a mass was pressing against my trachea. A soft tissue neck ultrasound and fine-needle biopsy (removal of a tissue sample) soon revealed that I had a four-centimeter tumor covering the entire right lobe of my thyroid gland. It turned out to be a type of thyroid cancer called follicular variant of papillary carcinoma. I never gave much thought to my thyroid. But amid all the testing and my cancer diagnosis, I learned just how important it is. This butterfly-shaped gland produces thyroid hormones, which regulate just about every function in the body, such as metabolism, heartbeat, temperature, mood, and other important processes. It reaches out to nearly every cell in the body. "The most common type of thyroid cancer is papillary carcinoma," said thyroid cancer specialist Eric Whitman, MD, medical director of Atlantic Health Cancer Care in Morristown, NJ. "Follicular variant is a subtype. Papillary and follicular thyroid cancers account for more than 90% of all thyroid cancers. They tend to grow very slowly." While follicular thyroid cancers usually do not spread to the lymph nodes, as many other cancers do, they can move into other body areas, such as the lungs or bones. Though it was unclear how I, a young mom who prided herself on eating well and staying fit, developed thyroid cancer, I discovered that it disproportionately affects females in general—occurring three times more often in females than males, according to the American Cancer Society. Why there's a biological sex disparity isn't exactly understood, nor is it known why when males are diagnosed with thyroid cancer, it's usually at a more advanced stage. What did all this mean for me? My doctors told me I needed two surgeries to remove the tumor and right lobe, then another surgery to remove the left lobe a month later, leaving me without a thyroid. It felt like my life was completely out of control. My son, Jack, would be starting first grade in the fall, and I was dating a new guy, who had no idea about my diagnosis. Luckily my dad, mom, and two brothers jumped in like superheroes to help. After my second surgery at the Carol G. Simon Cancer Center in Morristown, my thyroid was gone, and I was put on a very high dose of Synthroid (levothyroxine sodium). The drug is "thyroid replacement hormone," said Dr. Whitman. It does two things: It recreates the function of a thyroid and suppresses thyroid-stimulating hormone (TSH), so cancer cells are less likely to develop. It's just a tiny blue pill, but this synthetic hormone was no picnic. My TSH levels drastically changed, and that meant all the body processes that the thyroid usually controls were out of whack. My body temperature was always shifting; I felt hot when it wasn't hot out and chilly when it wasn't cold. I had anxiety and felt very down, very blue. I was constantly drained. Even though my diet did not change, I started to gain weight, and my fatigue made it difficult to exercise. I toughed it out and prepped for the next phase of treatment: radioactive iodine treatment in pill form. That meant being quarantined in my apartment for four days so I couldn't contaminate Jack and my dog, Lucy. For the first 24 hours, my eyes, neck, and head hurt—and I dry-heaved. I couldn't eat for at least 48 hours, so I stuck to ice chips, water, and diet ginger ale. Going through treatment alone was not so bad. I am kind of a loner and a definite doer; I attribute this to the superpowers I acquired as Jack's single mom. I felt empowered by the process, and I got to watch a lot of Netflix in peace. When my son and pup came bounding through the door with flowers and balloons after the quarantine was over, I felt complete. Courtesy of Christine CoppaAfter radiation was over, the final step in my treatment involved getting a full-body scan to see if the radiation worked. It did. Like a little Pac-Man, it ate up all the remaining cancer cells in my neck and a small spot on my chest. That small spot on my chest freaked me out, but at least it was gone. Being done with surgery and radiation was the strangest feeling, like when someone dies and you're so busy with the arrangements and guests and food...and then the next day, you're alone. That's how I felt. Sometimes, I also felt like I had a big secret. I did quickly realize that I was now part of the Big C club, and that meant I would require a lifetime of medication and tests. Every three to six months I had to see my doctors for blood work, and I needed an ultrasound twice a year. It was a dizzying experience juggling those responsibilities, especially because I was also back to taking care of Jack, running our home, and working as an editor. I tried to stay upbeat and positive. As vain as it sounds, gaining weight was the toughest side effect of my journey. I had always been small-boned and fit. I prided myself on eating clean and exercising. As a mother, I wanted to be in shape, racing Jack around the track and hiking up hills with him and Lucy. And yes, as a single woman, I wanted to look a certain way—not skinny, but the way I did before cancer. Instead, I found myself pathetically crying in my closet in a pile of size two jeans that no longer fit. Summer 2018 was the four-year anniversary of my diagnosis. That July, I found out that there were no tumor markers in my blood, and if all continued to go well, I would be considered officially cured. I did a happy dance when I got those test results. I also decided to make some changes so the physical and mental side effects of not having a thyroid would be easier to handle. Because my spirits were iffy, I joined a cancer survivor support group. It turned out to be the best thing I did since getting sick. I met people who had thyroid cancer and other types; I learned first-hand that we are all going through the same medication side effects, like bloating and mood swings. After the first meeting, I made some notes on my iPhone and stuck to them like they were the holy grail. I also committed to exercising at a challenging pace for an hour every single day. I joined a barre class and made new friends. Jack plays soccer, so I've started doing regular soccer drills with him. We also play tennis and always take the stairs in our apartment complex. Jack has been a terrific cheerleader, and Lucy is also an excellent motivator as my hiking and walking buddy. Meal planning helped me eat healthier and feel better too. Every Sunday night, I cook a huge batch of grilled chicken and quinoa salad with peppers, kale, and a sprinkle of feta. I also stocked my fridge with natural, sugar-free yogurt, tuna packets, tons of green produce, and a pitcher of lemon water. My amazing Italian dad who loves to cook always stops over with healthy meals. Not having to think about what I was going to eat made it easier to stay on track. Over a period of months, I lost 16 pounds, gained back my confidence, and started feeling like a new version of myself. I'm pretty sure I'll never be a size two or wear a skimpy bikini—and I don't care, because I'm betting on my cancer not reoccurring. Something terrible happened to me out of the blue, but it will not define me. That scar on my neck? It's barely visible anymore, and I like it. It's a battle scar that reminds me of what I conquered. I've learned some things about cancer and its aftermath, however, and here's what I want Health readers to know:
Christine Coppa is the author of Rattled! (Crown 2009). Can you live a normal life after thyroid removal?You should be able to go back to all the things you were doing before your thyroid operation within a few weeks. Your neck may feel stiff and uncomfortable because of the wound and the scar. It may also feel numb.
Can you live without a thyroid without medication?The answer is yes and it has to do with the fact that thyroid medication contains the same hormones that your body produces naturally. The only problem is that once your thyroid is removed or destroyed, you will be required to take thyroid medication for the rest of your life.
What is one thing the thyroid can't live without?For the thyroid to remain healthy, it needs iodine to produce hormones, but just a little. "It turns out that one teaspoonful of iodine is enough for a lifetime of thyroid hormone production.
What is the life span of thyroid patient?Some studies link hypothyroidism to increased longevity
Furthermore, the study suggests that people with low thyroid function may live up to 3.1 years longer without cardiovascular disease than people with high/normal thyroid function.
|
