My PAP came back abnormal, which meant that my gynie nurse practitioner got to climb back into my cooter and perform a colposcopy. When they told me this was gonna happen they gave me a bunch of pamphlets to read. Believe me I was all over WebMD trying to find out what the hell. Each pastel colored pamphlet was sprinkled with words like HPV and cervical cancer. And WebMD had links to Cervical Cancer and drawings of lady parts and various forms of HPV and Cervical Cancer. This scared the crappadapp out of me so I wasn’t so good on the reading AND comprehending. What I gathered was that the cells were so abnormal that no one thought I just had an infection. Apparently the cells they scraped off my cervix were so f-ed up that they wanted to BIOPSY them. WTF.
So the day of my big colposcopy had come and according to my paper work I was suppose to take some ibuprofen in order to reduce any discomfort. Out of immense fear of the procedure I took a Soma imported from Mexico. FYI – Soma is not a pain killer, it was only a muscle relaxer. Which is probably the only reason my gynie was able to get me fearsome knees apart. I must mention that I love my gynie nurse practitioner because she very calmly and very direct. She doesn’t sugar coat things or try and hug me. I know that we’re intimate, well I haven’t see her cooter, but we’re fairly intimate and she doesn’t try and force a friendship just cuz I let her in my wahyna every now and then. When we got down to business she wrenched my cooter open like a fucking garage door. She shoved a halogen lamp down there and started basting my cervix in vinegar. (No salad tossing comments here). She ended up identifying 4 areas of concern and snipped them out with what I can only imagine were little cuticle scissors! On lucky number 4 she dropped, kinda, but the edge of the specimen cup caught it. Yay! She sent the happy 4 chunks o’cervix to the lab and sent me home walking like I had a cardboard tube shoved up my wahyna . Oh, I forgot to mention the “Band Aid” they put on my cervix. It was described as mustard or Dijon mustard to more accurate looking. It would slough off in the next week. Eeeww. Well not as eeww as what slipped out of me about three days later. It would like Mr. Coffee hocked a brown loogie into the toilet. So a few days later I get the call that all is fine. Phew! Come back in 3 months for a follow up to make sure that everything is still on the up and up. Okey dokey ….see you in November! Wheeeeee!
Oh, it doesn't end there. Why would it end there? Silly.
As the author I have to comment that I understand that the tone of this is pretty flippant but humor is the only way that I know how to handle stressful situations. That or just act like they didn't happen....which might explain the lack of memories from my childhood.
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