My Heart will be Blessed with the Sound of Music... and I'll Sing Once More?

So, I like to sing.

Actually, I’ve probably been singing longer than I’ve been talking. True story. Just ask my brother, who had the extreme good fortune of sitting next to me in the rear-facing seat of the Oldsmobile station wagon as I belted out Wee Sing America. My goodness, those goober peas were certainly delicious.

Cassette tape sing-alongs and shower arias aside, I have been involved with an organized choir since I was in the fourth grade, where I proudly wore my bright, red felt vest as an extremely devoted member of the Penn Wynne Singers. So devoted was I that during one of our concerts, a girl in the back row tossed her cookies…and I kept singing, albeit while holding my nose. I’m surprised Carnegie Hall didn’t call me for a booking right then and there.

In fact, now that I think about it, a gigantic portion of my life thus far, has been spent in song.

I started taking music classes when I was 3 and knew most of the basics of reading music by the time I was 5. I started playing the piano in 2^nd grade, the viola in 4th and when I got to middle school, I added the hand bell choir to my instrumental repertoire. Throughout all of those years, I was singing: at church, at school, at camp, in the shower…in my brother’s ears…always singing.

Following my choral debut in the Penn Wynne Singers, I sang in the 6^th grade chorus and was giddily promoted to the advanced choir for 7^th and 8^th grade. When I entered high school, I was a soprano in the bizarrely named “Green Eggs and Jam” and later sang with the all-female a cappella group, Madrigals. In college, I joined my brother in the co-ed a cappella group, Symfonics, which I later directed. I’ve been singing in (and sometimes directing) the senior choir at camp since the age of 12. I am now a proud soprano in the Vienna Choral Society and I delight in returning to my church choir at home in Philadelphia for the holidays.

I think I can also go out on a limb here and title my ipod as the most random collection of every different genre of music known to man. I rock out to Aerosmith, study to Vivaldi, groove to the Beatles, passionately sing along to Disney, twang to Carrie Underwood and delight in a fabulous rendition of Panis Angelicus.

But, I digress.

The point of this post is not to impress you or alternately bore you to tears with my musical resume. Make no mistake, musically-speaking I am nothing special. But what is special is the fact that I have been given the true gift of spending most of my life in song.

I am somewhat ashamed to admit that up until now, I took this gift for granted.

You see, following my thyroid surgery, I unexpectedly lost the ability to speak for long periods of time, project my voice, easily swallow solid foods… and sing. 

Last week, a terrifyingly long black tube was snaked down my nose and into my throat to reveal that my right vocal chord is somewhat delayed and doesn’t quite move as it should. My doctor, however, is not convinced the delay is the cause of my problems and has, of course, scheduled me for a round of what always proves to be, extra special testing. This week I will do an hour of vocal chord testing and next week I will go in for an esophagram to try and locate any abnormal narrowing in my esophagus.

Fear not, my doctor assures me that the problem is not being caused by any abnormal growths or tumors…which is excellent, seeing as I hadn’t even pondered that as an option. Always nice to simultaneously add and subtract possible causes of vocal chord paralysis…

It could be that my body just needs more time to heal. There was only a 1% chance of vocal chord paralysis from the surgery and that may be a percentage that even I can work with. I’ve had two major surgeries in close proximity on my neck within 6 months. I think I can go ahead and make the case that spending over a year with a less-than-stellar nutritional status, probably didn’t help anything and I’ve undergone anesthesia 11 times in the last year…which is generally left off of the top ten healthiest lifestyle habits.

So the case could certainly be made that my body just needs more time.

But, it is still pretty weird. I open my mouth, expecting to hear the same sound that has come out of if for 29 years, but it doesn’t come. In fact, I’m not sure what is more startling-the fact that I can’t sing, or the fact that my attempt to sing strongly resembles a strangled cat.

Just in time for the Halloween haunted house? A spook-tacular singing sensation?

Perhaps I need to look into the side effects of candy corn deprivation...

Not coal tar! Anything but coal tar!

I like to think that I have a decent amount of self-control. I rarely over-indulge, I place a lot of value in my nutrition and I avoid excessive sources of sugar. 

I’d like to tell you that there are no exceptions.

However.

I can’t.

You see, there is in fact, one giant exception.

Now I know what you are thinking-must be something fancy and indulgent. Something expensive, difficult to find and saved only for very important special occasions.

Ya know, filet mignon, truffle oil, champagne or maybe even godiva chocolate truffles!

Nope.

It’s candy corn.

But not just any candy corn. It HAS to be Brach’s candy corn and in the interest of full disclosure, I prefer the autumn mix. Yes, even the giant pumpkin explosions of pure sugar.

I wait all year for candy corn season. Even though holiday food is often out in the stores months before the designated holiday, I make myself wait. I spend late August and September salivating in anticipation for October. On the first glorious day of October, I sprint to the closest source of candy corn and buy the biggest bag I can find. I spend the month enjoying each delicious bite of soft, sugary honey and on the final day of the month I finish whatever remains of my candy corn stash. On November 1^st, all candy corn must be out of the house (read: in my stomach) and I restart the year-long countdown for next October.

Any and all self-control that I have goes out the window when it comes to candy corn.

It is my kryptonite.

But friends, I have devastating news.

I know this may come as a shock to you, but candy corn is not an all-natural product.

I know, I know, take a moment to compose yourself, because I’m about to rock your world even more.

[deep breath]

Candy corn has artificial coloring.

Can you believe it???

More specifically, candy corn has yellow dye #6. 

Yes, the one that I’m now allergic to, along with yellow #10.

There may or may not have been some serious throat lumpage and major eye-tearing at the grocery store this weekend. [Hangs head in shame]

Don't think I haven't done extensive research on candy corn alternatives, post devastating discovery. I've investigated vegan candy corn (no gelatin, still yellow dye). I've combed through the Brach's website and considered the Easter version, complete with pink, purple and spring green candy corn (Negative. Still yellow 6 with the addition of blue 1).

In fact, in the last week I’ve gotten a true education on yellow dyes and how they are in EVERYTHING. Ok, maybe not everything, but pretty darn close. I’ve also learned that yellow dye is actually coal tar. Yep, coal tar. You’d think this would deter me from continuing to crave candy corn.

Nope. Still want it. Mmmmm coal tar?

Yellow dye was also discovered in my shampoo, conditioner, Tylenol, toothpaste, vitamins, medications, crackers, gummy bears(shocker), chicken broth, canned butternut squash, hand soap, lotion, yadda yadda yadda. It's also a very good thing that I don't wear a lot of makeup and now I finally understand why wearing lipstick makes me want to scratch my face off.

And just in case I was thinking I may be able to someday reintroduce bread crumbs, cake mix, icing, cake decorations, jimmies, snack chips, certain breads and cheeses, soups, marinades, ice cream, marmalade, custard, lemon curd, food coloring, etc. I can think again. 

So yes, I am aware that a body as hypersensitive as mine could probably benefit from going cold turkey on all artificial additives. Let's be honest, most of the things I eat now are either raw or very minimally processed, which is something I'm proud of and strongly believe in for healing and overall health. So yes, there is a part of me that is very much okay with having a reason to completely eliminate  any and all processed products, both of the food and health care variety.

But like a bear to honey, I need my candy corn. 

So my friends, I have an assignment for you. I need you to eat some candy corn and vicariously through you, I will enjoy each bite of sugary honey goodness. Yes, this means even the pumpkins.

I'll even give you permission to start before October 1st!

Come on, be a pal!

After all, it's only coal tar.

Benching cancer

Break out the almond milk! Unscrew the baby food jars! Juice the spinach! 

I am cancer free!

But wait, why are we celebrating? I thought she already knew she was cancer free?

Fear not, you aren't losing it.

After my thyroidectomy, the surgeon told me about the cancer and indicated that he had removed all traces in my thyroid. It wasn't until I returned home and had my one-week post surgery appointment with my endocrinologist that he gently explained that I wasn't entirely off the hook. Thyroid cancer affects the thyroid, parathyroids and lymph nodes, so I had really only eliminated one of the options. In addition, I was also told that the best surgeon can only remove 98% of your thyroid and all it takes is one cell to keep the cancer going.

Oh.

Thyroid hormones have an extremely long half life, which, in a nutshell, means that they stay in your body for a long time. Due to this lengthy half life, I had to wait a month post-surgery before we could do any tests to see if I was still carrying cancer of any form. If we did the test too close to surgery, it would definitely still detect cancer being present, even if it was no longer there. Unlike many other forms of cancer, thyroid cancer can be detected by elevated levels of thyroglobulin, which is carried in your blood. This blood test was done a week ago and my doctor just received the results. Somehow I still have hair and fingernails?

I had (past tense! Woohoo!) papillary carcinoma of the thyroid, which is one of four types of thyroid cancer. Obviously cancer in any shape or form is not ideal, but if you have to pick one, I recommend "selecting" this slow growing and very treatable type.

The only downsides to papillary carcinoma (besides the obvious terrifying weirdness that you are growing something that could kill you) are that it tends to come back and if untreated it tends to go to the lungs and bones. So my endocrinologist and I will be on hyper alert for...well...the rest of my life. Weird. Even now, my thyroglobulin levels are not zero (which is obviously ideal)  but they aren't high enough to warrant radiation and seeing how my body takes FOREVER to accomplish anything, I may just need more time for the numbers to go down.

The numbers may also still be elevated because, as it turns out, I am allergic to the dyes used by pharmaceutical companies that distribute thyroid medicine. I was, therefore, likely not absorbing much synthetic thyroid hormone initially because I was allergic to the pills. Oops. To quote my endocrinologist, "Allergies to these dyes are very rare, so it makes sense for you." Touche dude, just add Yellow 6 and Yellow 10 to the list.

So there you have it, officially out of the starting line-up. Take a seat cancer, you've been benched.