Highland News & Media editor Megan Carr shares how unexpected thyroid cancer diagnosis changed her life
Warning: This article contains images of post-surgical procedures some readers might find upsetting
Unfortunately, cancer is a word we hear often - whether it’s as a heartbreaking plot twist in films, fundraising memorial news articles, or in hushed conversations that many are too uncomfortable to voice.
We sympathise, donate to charities, and share our condolences, but we never really believe it will happen to us.
Until it does.
It may sound clichéd, but for me, cancer truly was a shock. I was, by all accounts, fit and healthy when I discovered my tumor. Aside from being prone to the cold and occasionally feeling tired, I had no signs or symptoms. But it was my treatment that left me frail and unwell.
The disease has taken one of my vital organs, leaving me reliant on medication for life, and it completely flipped my world upside down in a matter of months - just as my career was gaining momentum.
I joined Highland News & Media last summer whilst on secondment from my employer, the KM Media Group, in Kent, England. I began my career as a journalist fresh out of school in 2019 as an 18-year-old apprentice with the Gravesend, Dartford, and Medway Messengers.
Over the next five years, I worked tirelessly, studied, and became an award-winning senior reporter covering the Sheerness Times Guardian, Sittingbourne News, and KentOnline. By July 2024, I was stepping into a new chapter - my first managerial role - on secondment in the Highlands, helping as an editor in one of my employer’s sister company's newsrooms.
I was eager to embrace the challenge and prove myself in this exciting new environment.
But then, while on holiday that same month, everything changed. After a swim in the sea, my dad noticed a lump on the left side of my neck.
Initially, I thought it was just a reaction to the saltwater, but the lump was unusually large and hadn’t gone away after two weeks. A visit to the urgent treatment center led to a diagnosis of a goiter - an enlarged thyroid gland.
I’d never given much thought to my thyroid, a small yet vital gland that regulates metabolism, heart rate, and body temperature, but suddenly, it was all I could think about.
My GP referred me for an ultrasound, which raised concerns and led to a biopsy - a painful procedure I will never forget.
Looking back, I can’t believe I didn’t notice the lump sooner. Hindsight is a powerful thing, and now, when I look at photos from 2024, I’m almost certain it had been slowly growing since late 2023.
By late September, my results were in. While they didn’t confirm cancer outright, the signs were far from reassuring.
The lump had grown to nearly 5cm, and the doctors determined that the best course of action was to remove the left side of my thyroid.
At this point, I still felt remarkably well. Just the day before my surgery, I returned from a holiday in Malta with a friend, where I had been scuba diving and enjoying every moment to the fullest.
On October 17, 2024, I underwent a hemithyroidectomy.
I cannot give enough praise to the care I received. I saw the NHS at its very best, and I’m incredibly grateful that it took only four months from discovering the lump to starting my treatment - something I know not everyone is fortunate enough to experience.
After two weeks of recovery, I returned to work, unaware that my life was about to change forever.
I’d healed well and experienced no side effects. However, at a follow-up appointment on November 7, just a month before my 24th birthday, I was told that the biopsy taken during my surgery had revealed I had a papillary thyroid carcinoma, a rare cancer in the UK.
At first, I struggled to process the diagnosis. I have no family history of cancer, and I hadn’t been exposed to any radiation.
My blood tests were normal, and if I hadn’t noticed the lump, I would have never known I had cancer. I didn’t look or feel the way cancer patients are depicted in the media. But I learned cancer doesn’t always fit those images.
I was scheduled for a thyroidectomy completion on December 5, just a day after my birthday. While the surgery was successful, it changed my life in ways I never expected.
The scar tissue from my initial surgery made the second one more complicated.
Unfortunately, I was left with vocal cord paralysis, which made breathing and swallowing difficult. Some of my parathyroid glands - small glands near the thyroid - were either removed or damaged, disrupting my body’s ability to regulate calcium.
This led to muscle pain, weakness, and spasms, which made even walking a struggle.
By January, I was taking almost 20 pills a day to manage my health. The muscle weakness and calcium deficiency left me in constant pain, making even the simplest tasks exhausting. The most difficult thing to accept was that I had actually felt healthier when the tumour was still inside me.
Losing my thyroid had a profound impact on my body. In just a matter of days, I gained two stone, my hair began to fall out, and what was left felt like straw, despite trying every product imaginable. I know this may seem superficial, but it was incredibly difficult to cope with, especially as a woman in my 20s.
I was constantly cold, no matter how many layers I wore. I was always tired, in a way that’s hard to explain. It wasn’t just usual exhaustion but a deep, overwhelming tiredness. I couldn’t even manage a simple trip to the supermarket without needing hours of sleep to recover afterward.
And all of these side effects were before I’d even started my cancer treatment. Thyroid cancer isn’t treated with chemotherapy but with radioactive iodine, a treatment that destroys any remaining thyroid cells following surgery.
Before treatment, I had to follow a strict low-iodine diet for two weeks, avoiding iodised salt, dairy, egg, seafood, and many other foods.
On March 3, I took a radioactive iodine pill given to me by nuclear scientists. Because I became radioactive, I had to isolate in a special hospital room on a Macmillan cancer care unit for four days, with no contact with anyone.
My phone, laptop, and Kindle were covered in a special plastic to prevent radiation contamination, and anything else I touched, like my clothes and toiletries, had to be destroyed or left behind.
I wasn’t allowed home until I’d been given the all-clear with a Geiger counter - yes, the same thing you’d use if you decided to visit Chernobyl. Even my blood samples have to be locked away until the radiation decays.
The side effects include nausea, neck tenderness, dry mouth and eyes, and changes in taste. There’s also a slightly increased risk of developing a second cancer in the future, and uncertainty about how the treatment may affect fertility.
Because I’m only 24, I was offered the option of freezing my eggs, but the process is painful and lengthy, and at the time, I didn’t feel well enough to go through it.
Though I’m still awaiting results of how well the radioactive iodine worked, papillary thyroid carcinoma has an excellent survival rate. This brings me both comfort and guilt as I know it’s a result many others with cancer may not hear. However, recurrence remains a concern.
Despite the favorable survival rate, I will always require medication and ongoing cancer surveillance. While I’m getting stronger, my life will forever involve managing my condition with medication.
I’ve returned to work, where my colleagues and managers have been incredibly supportive, and I’ve even started exercising again. However, I’ve already noticed a shift in how people treat me.
From now on, whenever I sign up for new activities or hobbies, simply mentioning thyroid cancer on my medical form will seemingly put organisers off. My travel insurance has become more complicated, and society often treats me as though I’m fragile, like I could break at any moment.
More than anything, I wish I could return to how things were before. But now, I must accept that the chronic illness left by cancer is a part of me, and I can’t let it define me.
I’m deeply grateful to the Teenage Cancer Trust, which supports cancer patients aged 13 to 24, and to my cancer nurse for her unwavering care.
My family, partner, and friends have been incredible, as have the doctors and staff at the various hospitals who’ve guided me through this journey.
Support from Macmillan and Young Lives vs Cancer has also been invaluable. But above all, the biggest help has come from the other cancer patients I’ve connected with.
No one’s cancer experience is the same, but one thing I’ve picked up on is that we don’t always want to be seen as symbols of strength or inspiration or placed on a pedestal. We just want you to understand that this is the hand we’ve been dealt, and we have no choice but to play it.
Sometimes, we don’t need kind words or gentle treatment - we just need people to acknowledge how tough it is and let us tell you we’re not ‘fine.’
You can find out more about Thyroid Cancer on the Cancer Research website or through the NHS.
If you’ve read this far, the most important thing I want to leave you with is this.
Please get checked if you notice anything wrong. You know your body better than anyone, and if something feels ‘off,’ or if you notice a new lump, bump, or even just feel different mentally, book a GP appointment. It could save your life.
