The Other Reason I'm Famous at the Cancer Centre

There was another story I eluded to in the last post and I figured now is as good a time to share as any...

The day I was diagnosed with cervical cancer, the oncologist walked into the room, looked at me, and said, "It's nice to see a healthy person in here for a change." That changed once he examined me. He said my cancer was more advanced than I had previously anticipated. He gave me the facts and figures then asked when I'd be ready to have surgery and start treatment.
I said, "Now."
And so I started that day with blood work and x-rays within the hour and had surgery 5 days later. I've been on the fast-track ever since, thanks to that man. He got me into a study in order to receive a PET scan, since people with my type of cancer don't usually get one.

I had already booked a weekend trip to NYC for the same week as all of this fun stuff was starting, though. I figured it would be my last bit of fun for a while, and we already had reservations at fabulous restaurants, and I already had tickets to the Knicks/Celts game, so there was no way in hell I was not going to go. (So worth it- Red Rooster was amazing and the Celts won!)
So, I told my doctor of my plans, and went despite his recommendation that I cancel (He clearly isn't a fan of a good meal and some hoops the way I am).

I had surgery on Wednesday, a PET scan on Thursday morning, and flew to NYC on Thursday night. No big deal (until I got to the border).

My cousin was driving, I'm on some good pain killers, we're having a laugh and waiting at the border to pass through customs. I was feeling pretty good about it all, then the border gates all come down.

THEY CLOSED THE BORDER. Weird. Then, a dozen or more border guards starting jogging out of the main office with hand held machines (I later discovered they were geiger counters). We watch as the officers start examining all of the vehicles in the line. Several of them pause at a big pick-up beside us. Our mouths are agape that we are potentially witnessing a foiled terrorist attempt unfold. Then, an officer turns to our car, points the machine at the passenger side, looks straight at me and says, "It's you." AS IF I'M THE TERRORIST. I replied, "Uh, no. It's definitely not me," but the geiger counter was beeping and glowing, so I guess it was me.
A bunch of officers surrounded our car, they opened the border gates again, and we were escorted to the office where scary offenders sit. It felt like the police station from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and everybody looked like Charlie Sheen.

The officers tried to get a reading from the geiger counter, but I was too radioactive.

It just started flashing and beeping. I'm actually lucky I didn't blow the thing up. They took my passport (I assume to look me up on Interpol and ensure I wasn't a terrorist or anything) and eventually let me go when I explained I had cancer and had just had a PET scan. Using the C-word got me out of that jam, I think.