8. Hearing the Word I Wasn't Ready For

kiwifigure
May 31
4 min read

I knew this appointment was coming.

But that didn’t make it any easier to walk into.

Before the Appointment

I tried to stay positive in the lead-up.

After all, the chances of it being malignant were low — under 20%.

Statistically, everything pointed towards this being something manageable. Something less serious.

And I held onto that.

But at the same time, there was another part of me quietly preparing for something else.

Almost like I needed to expect the worst — just in case.

To protect myself.

Because somehow, that felt safer than being caught off guard.

Hearing the Words

When the doctor told me the results… everything shifted.

I felt like the blood drained from me.

There was this moment where everything just stopped.

And before I could even fully process it, I heard myself say:

“I feel like my body has ripped me off.”

Because that’s exactly how it felt.

I do everything I can to live a healthy lifestyle.

I train.

I eat well.

I look after myself.

And yet… I still have cancer?

It didn’t make sense.

The Diagnosis

The results confirmed that the lump was cancerous. Papillary thyroid cancer. 6cm in size.

Hearing that word — cancer — attached to your own life is something that’s hard to fully describe.

Even when it’s said calmly.

Even when it’s explained carefully.

It lands heavily.

The Details (and Trying to Understand Them)

Alongside the diagnosis, there was also information that brought some reassurance. The cancer had been removed with clear margins, which means that the tissue surrounding the tumour didn’t show signs of cancer cells.

In simple terms, what they removed appears to have been fully taken out.

That matters.

It reduces the likelihood that cancer has been left behind in that area. And hearing that did bring some relief.

But it didn’t take away the reality of the diagnosis.

“The Good Cancer”

This is something I’ve heard more than once now:

“If you’re going to get cancer, this is the good kind.”

And I understand what people mean when they say that.

It’s often very treatable.

Outcomes are generally positive.

But hearing that doesn’t make it feel “good”.

It’s still cancer.

And there’s a strange mix of emotions that comes with that:

Gratitude that it’s not worse
Guilt, knowing others face much harder diagnoses
And still… fear about what it means for me.

All of those things can exist at the same time.

What Happens Next

Even with the surgery done, this isn’t the end of the decision-making.

Now, my case goes to a team of specialists.

And from here, there are a few possible paths:

Further surgery to remove the remaining thyroid
Radiation treatment (radioactive iodine)
Or monitoring, if they feel everything has been managed.

So… I’m waiting again.

Waiting for experts to decide what the next step should be.

Telling the People I Love

One of the hardest parts of this has been thinking about how to tell the people I love.

Not just my children — but my close friends/family too.

The people who have been alongside me through everything.

Because even though I’ve already shared parts of this journey with them, this feels different.

This is no longer uncertainty.

This is a diagnosis.

And with that comes a different kind of conversation.

With my children, it feels especially heavy.

How do you explain “cancer” in a way that doesn’t create fear?

At their age, does that word just mean one thing to them? Do they hear it and think: Mum is dying?

That thought has been one of the heaviest to carry.

But even with my family, there’s a weight to saying the words out loud.

Knowing they’ll feel it too.

Knowing they’ll worry.

Knowing it changes things for them, as well as me.

The Emotional Mix

Since hearing the diagnosis, it hasn’t been one clear emotion.

It’s been all of them.

Relief to finally have answers
Fear about what it means
Gratitude for what’s been caught early
Exhaustion from everything leading up to this
And a shift in perspective I didn’t expect.

Because once you hear that word, something changes.

Even if the outlook is positive.

Sitting in This Space

So now, I’m here.

In another waiting phase.

But this one feels different again.

Because now I know.

And with that knowing comes a deeper awareness of how quickly things can change.

What This Has Made Me Realise

More than anything, this has been a reminder of how important it is to live fully in the moments we have.

To:

Be present
Tell people you love them
Appreciate the small, ordinary moments
Not take health for granted.

Because it’s easy to assume those things will always be there.

Until suddenly, you’re reminded that they might not be.

Where I Am Now

Right now, I’m processing.

I’m waiting.

I’m feeling everything that comes with both of those things.

And I’m taking it one step at a time — just like I have through this entire journey.

And I’m still recovering.

Even with the reassurance around prognosis, hearing the word “cancer” attached to your own life is something that takes time to fully absorb.

And I think that’s where I am right now.

Still absorbing it.