I was diagnosed with leukemia when I was two years old. Although I went into remission just a few months later, I was treated as a precaution for three years. I walked away as a five year old with a chaotic half straight and half curly head of new hair, an intense and serious little personality, and a bigger than you can imagine fear of doctors, hospitals and needles. By the time I was ten years old, my parents had given up taking me to my yearly follow-up appointments. The trauma it evoked in me, and in return on them, was just too much. I remember literally being drug down the hall of my doctor’s office to the lab as I wailed and struggled to get away. That was my last blood test for ...