I’m a cancer survivor. Did I ever tell you that? Well, now you know. And as GI Joe so wisely taught us...knowing is half the battle.

By way of background, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer approximately one month before my 23^rd birthday. A 3cm malignant tumor was subsequently removed along with my entire thyroid gland. 6 weeks later, I was admitted to Washington Hospital Center’s nuclear medicine department for intensive radiation therapy for 10 days (I was no shit radio active – in complete isolation and was a severe danger to pregnant women and could have killed small dogs). There is no family history and no one knows why this happened. Fun times.

The up side – thyroid cancer is extremely slow growing and very treatable. The down side - unlike most cancers that officially go into remission after 5 years, thyroid cancer can come back at any time – 20 years, 30…it doesn’t matter. Therefore, diligence is key and annual full body scans are prescribed.

Due to changing Dr.’s a number of times, insurance changes, my busy schedule…basically any excuse I could possibly think of …I haven’t had a scan since….2005.

I’m overdue. Well overdue.

Due to the relentless nagging of my parents….I made a call this afternoon to my Endocrinologist requesting she fit me in for a scan sometime soon.

I’m scared. So scared. Scared of going through the treatment, the tests, the side affects again. Cancer took a two year chunk out of my twenties – I didn’t look or feel right for two years. I don’t know whether I’m strong enough to go through that again – and so I’ve put it off. Stupid. I know. I KNOW its stupid, but that doesn’t make me any more eager to know whether or not there are cancer cells still swimming around inside of me.

I don’t look sick. I don’t feel sick and I’m not about to have my life disrupted again. That’s a great first date conversation starter – “so, I’d really love to see you again but if you put your dick inside me while I’m radioactive, it will probably fall off.”

I totally forgot how much guys dig a girl in a hospital bed.

Don’t worry – I’ll go, I’m sure everything will be fine, I’m worrying about nothing, blah blah blah. But that’s exactly what everyone said when my Dr. felt a lump in my neck…and when they did the biopsy…

I’m just so unenthusiastic about hearing the results – good or bad.

Frankly, just being in the hospital again makes me feel…damaged.