Cancer-chondriac

Since I've been given green light on the cancer-be-gone screening, life has returned to normal. Sort of, anyway. No matter how small scale my cancer story was compared to most, it still reaches its grubby little claws into my life and picks at it piece by piece. Nothing that would show up on a blood test, of course. Maybe a psych eval, in my case.

I recently was sacked with a sore throat. Not really a big deal in anyone's book, I suspect (except that sore throats are completely suck-tastic). Not a big deal until it hit the one week mark and no other symptoms and no relief from what I swore up and down was strep throat. Uh-oh, time to consult the Google docs.

I think we all know better than to do that since you could have everything from cancer to a toe ache from any given symptom, but I did it anyway. Searches indicated that I should consult a doc because it could be tonsillitis, throat cancer, or that I might be pregnant with triplets, one with only 4 fingers on its left hand.

So I freaked a little and searched some more. This time I searched "sore throat" and "thyroid cancer" together. Google actually said I should just go ahead and make out my will and let everyone know the bad news.

So I went to two different doctors and finally an ENT specialist after two weeks of the same. Can you say hypochondriac? I can. Except I spell it a little different now. Cancer-chondriac. Same definition, only everything you have is cancer.

Thank goodness I don't always feel this way with various sicknesses. But since I once had cancer spreading through my neck, I thought a 2 1/2 week long sore throat gave me the green light to go a little spastic. I think I played the part well. I have the doctor's bills to prove it.

I am actually doing really well, other than my complete dependence on Synthroid and the ups and downs I feel as a result. I do have many good things to come of all this though, one of which is running. I slipped on my running sneaks the other day and pounded the pavement in my pink-laced Nikes to give cancer a run for its money. I rounded the streets in my neighborhood thinking about making myself stronger so that I at least know I've done what I can. I'm not going down without a fight. And though the tests show I am healthy now, there's just something that invades life when that diagnosis is given. I know I'm not immune to it again; not immune to worse even. So this lady is giving Google the boot and lacing up my running shoes. Hopefully I will give cancer the boot too.