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I wrote this piece on the fear of cancer - carcinophobia - for Huffington Post. But here's what I couldn't include in it: When I was six I thought I was going to die. This wasn't just a passing thought, it was an all-consuming fear and fixation that severely affected my life and my parents' lives. To the rest of the world, I looked like a happy little girl, but that just masked my monster - my master.  Even as a baby I was just like my Bubby - or a little bubby, as it were. Because of this insidious anxiety, I'd throw up every single night before I went to bed. Every pain, every twinge, everything I didn't even feel - I felt was cancer.
My Bubby - my maternal grandmother - died when I was six. Not from cancer, but I think that's what led to this horrible phobia. So, to avoid an uncertain death, I created numerous self-imposed rules.
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