Me on my soapbox

Yesterday at the Y I got into a conversation with an acquaintance who'd heard about my situation. She offered sympathy and then asked, "How did you know you had cancer?" Without waiting for much of an answer, she told me that she's been getting a pain in her lung and she's sure it's lung cancer.
She doesn't dare go in and find out. She had a lot of reasons: she has body image problems and is scared to be seen in a johnny, she knows a couple of people at the local hospital and is afraid they'll read her records and find out about a hospitalization years back for mental problems, and most of all, she is afraid that if she has cancer all sorts of terrible things will happen, from chemo, radiation, and/or surgery to death itself.
Of course I went into cheer leading mode and tried to answer her fears. I pointed out that hospitals are used to people who are scared and do everything they can to make patients more comfortable as they go through tests and procedures. I said that if she told them she was unhappy in a johnny they would probably let her wear two. I said that no one except the doctors and nurses can access your records and even in a small town the hospital doesn't want unauthorized staff finding out and spreading information about you.
But mostly I was horrified that she was willing to spend her days worrying about this but wouldn't go in and get the tests to find out what was going on. For me, not knowing is much more frightening than any diagnosis, especially when you know that putting off the tests could be dangerous or fatal.
I may have come on too strong, but at least at the end she said, "Well, yes.... I really should go in. Maybe I will."