I was told I was pregnant. I later discovered it was cancer and was relieved

I had a car accident - a distracted driver passed a red light on a clear, sunny day at 12:15 p.m. I went to the emergency room with minor injuries. I did a CT scan and some X-rays. The doctor discovered the results: concussion, contusion, incision, and a pregnancy.
There must be some error. She looked at me as if she was waiting for me to say something, and I looked at her as if one of us did not know how menopause works.
"But I have seven years in menopause, " I said.
"Do you still have all your organs?" She asked.
"I have all the organs," I told her, and she suggested that I have a blood test at my doctor because the result would be more accurate.
The panic started. I went straight to the pharmacy. I bought two pregnancy tests and went home. Both came out negative.
But I went for a blood test anyway. Because it was not the time to lie to myself.
The next day, the doctor agreed that she could track my menopause seven years ago, and yes, she also said I was "pregnant," so the urine test showed.
Surprisingly, the doctor was not yet 100% ready to declare that I was not pregnant - he gave 99.8%. Even though he was discussing the hormone levels they discovered, I really knew I was not. They were also discussing an option for ovarian cancer.
A wave of relief swept over me. The weight of stress and anxiety I had carried was suddenly lifted from my shoulders.
Yes, cancer was a relief over pregnancy.
For starters this is a great way to get word out.
1. Having a child I can not afford and do not want to raise at this age (spending $ 250,000 to raise him).
2. Mental murder of myself and the children I am giving for adoption (sorry - we can not keep your sister).
3. Abortion (if this is another one).
Instead, I have an easy way forward: to aggressively treat cancer.
Moreover, I do not have to reveal my sex life to anyone, explain how I allowed this to happen or face any social stigma of being a single mother. I do not need to change my clothes, lose control of my body or make my diagnosis for everyone to see and comment on. Pregnancy is public. Cancer is private - no one will know unless I tell them.
I later learned that I was not pregnant, but I was potentially facing ovarian cancer.
Do not misunderstand me: I know my cancer can be fatal. But so can a pregnancy.