On Friday, I had my annual OB/GYN appointment. It's the appointment known by all women for (1) its blood pressure check and humbling weigh-in, (2) the pee-in-a-cup ritual, (3) the get naked and change-into-a-paper-dress routine, (4) the finger-stick-iron-check, (5) the clinical breast exam, (6) the manual internal pelvic exam, and (7) the ever popular feet-in-stirrups Pap test. It's all so uncomfortable, so not fun. Yet it's all so necessary.

It was a visit with my OB/GYN that resulted in my breast cancer diagnosis two years ago this month. It was the clinical breast exam that confirmed the hard little lump I had found in the shower the previous day. It's what prompted my emergency mammogram a day later. It's what sent me on the wildest ride of my life. It's what keeps me going back for repeat yearly visits -- because I know if something goes wrong with my female parts, this doctor is likely the one who will make the discovery. He is likely the one who will save me from a late diagnosis of something terrible, the doctor who will set the wheels in motion for whatever comes after something terrible is detected.

I know already that (1) my blood pressure and weight are normal, (2) my urine is normal, (3) the paper dress is so not flattering, (4) my iron is normal, (5) my breasts are normal, and (6) my ovaries and uterus feel normal. I am only waiting on (7) the results of my Pap test that will reveal any abnormalities in the tissue of my cervix. This is the one test that can save me from cervical cancer or detect the disease in a stage that is completely curable. It's one of the best cancer screening tests around -- and I plan to receive it every year, year after year -- even if I have not one ounce of modesty left when it's said and done.

It's not so bad really. I'm accustomed to the rituals of the annual exam. I know the drill, know I will survive it all, know it's all critical for maintaining my health. So it's good really. Good -- compared to what could happen if something went undiscovered.

I woke yesterday morning to voices on the Today Show telling me that the use of hair dye is linked to incidences of lymphoma -- a general term for a group of cancers that originate in the lymphatic system. I know I've heard in the past about the possible link between cancer and the chemicals that add color to hair -- but the connection has never been revealed as very strong and the topic did not ever apply to me so I filed the information in the back of my mind. But now, it appears the link may be stronger than originally thought -- and I recently dyed my own post-chemo brown hair -- so I listened more intently this time and learned about the study that implies that touching up my roots may not be a wise practice.

The results of a European study, appearing in the July 1 issue of the American Journal of Epidemiology, reveal that roughly 10 percent of lymphomas in women could be caused by the use of hair dyes. The data suggest a small increase in risk -- and clearly more research is necessary -- but what researchers have found is that for the women who have dyed their hair more than 12 times, the risk is highest. And those who colored their locks before 1980 have the greatest risk. Since 1980, chemicals thought to be cancer-causing were eliminated from dyes -- although it is still not definite whether or not current hair dyes are risk-free. It is definite, say researchers, that further study of this topic is important. In the meantime, I think I will let my artificial reddish chestnut hues fade away while I enjoy the plain brown hair that covers my once-bald scalp.

I have had many moments in my life where anxiety and panic have filled my mind. But this is normal and necessary really as life delivers all kinds of situations that produce all sorts of emotions.

I can recall vividly anxious feelings before a school exam but this is what motivated me to study and prepare and to pass the exam with flying colors. This anxiety gave me a push, a kick in the pants -- in a good, healthy way.

Without a bit of panic, I may not have cared. I may have been aloof to the importance of doing well in school. But while life has presented me with a good amount of this healthy emotion, it has also tossed an abundance of unhealthy anxiety and panic my way -- the kind that has consumed my mind and twisted my insides. The kind that made peaceful living seem impossible.