For a few hours this week I was certain I had cancer. I was contemplating how I would react when the doctor read me the results. I kept trying to come up with excuses at work after the first scare. Maybe there was something in the toilet that caused the coloring. It wasn’t until I went home and the same thing happened that I ran out of excuses. I needed to call the doctor. My loved one’s faces flashed before my eyes as I visualized breaking the news to them. I even thought of a video that I would make to surprise them with at my passing.
On the way to my soccer game, I again was trying to figure out if there was any other possible reason why this was happening to me—I didn’t drink any punch, I had only eaten ravioli with alfredo sauce—nothing. And then it hit me; BEETS! I had eaten beets, and a lot of them, with my pasta. That was it! I had never eaten them before but it seemed like a cruel joke that they would like to play on a novice. I called my mom to tell her the great news. It may not sound very exciting to you but for a minute there, I beet cancer.
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