08/06/2025
I'm not a big sharer on social media lately, but I felt compelled to share my story to possibly help others.
If you don't want to read my long post, the moral of the story is.... Don’t wait. Trust your body. Trust yourself. Because sometimes, your gut is the only early warning sign you’ll get.
A few weeks ago, I ended up in the ER because all the lymph nodes under my arms were painfully swollen and had a fever for three days ranging between 101ºF and 104ºF. It hurt to move, and I felt run-down and off. They said it was likely just an infection — probably viral. But something in me wouldn’t let it go. I asked for a scan that wasn’t originally ordered. I don’t even know why. I just needed to know.
That scan showed my right thyroid was double the size of my left. But I was sick, so I told myself it was nothing — probably just part of the infection. I went home. I kept going. I took care of my son. I worked. I powered through. Like we all do.
At a follow-up appointment, a doctor looked at my scan and immediately said, “Why haven’t you seen an endocrinologist?” Her concern was the first time I realized this might actually be serious.
Fast-forward, a whirlwind of specialists, ultrasounds, and oncology consults. And then: You need surgery. On Monday of last week, they removed the right side of my thyroid — and with it, a kiwi-sized tumor that had likely been growing quietly inside me for years. All while I was just living life, unaware.
For the past week, we waited, holding our breath, fearing the worst.
And today, we got the call: it wasn’t cancer.
It was a toxic thyroid nodule — something that can mimic cancer on scans and cause major imbalances in your body, but it’s treatable, and now it’s gone.
I am overwhelmed. Relieved. Grateful beyond words.
To anyone reading this: please, please listen to your body.
That quiet feeling that something’s off? Don’t ignore it. Ask the questions. Request the scan. Advocate for yourself. I almost didn’t. I almost chalked it all up to stress, to being tired, to being a mom who’s always just pushing through.
I’m 34. I never thought I’d be in a situation like this. But here I am. Healing. Whole. Grateful.
