Things I say to my cervix
And some other wisdom to get you through tough times.
Today is Thursday, also known as post-pap day for me this week.
Did anyone else have a speculum between their legs yesterday too? (And if you did, does that make us "smear sisters", or "people who pap together"? Let me know your preference and I might be tempted to make us t-shirts!)
More importantly, did anyone else make their doctor laugh while they were swabbing your cervix?
(Raises hand) I did!
You see, it all started right around the time I graduated from university. I returned home from the commencement ceremonies to a message on my answering machine (yeah, I know that ages me) asking me to call my doctor's office as soon as possible because he wanted to see me.
Five weeks before, I had gone in for my annual pap and my doctor told me "no news is good news" in regards to my results. He also said that he usually heard back from the lab in a couple of weeks.
But now there was news. And it wasn't good.
The abnormal cells that were found led to years of more frequent paps, surgery and monitoring that I wasn't expecting as I went out into the full-time workforce and began dating a new guy who I now call "the one who can't be tagged" because my husband isn't a social media kinda guy.
There were many times when I thought I was in the clear, but my doctors and I were disappointed with each test result that came back with more bad news.
But one day, there was good news. No abnormal cells were detected. This meant the vicious cycle of: see a doctor —> take a test —> be disappointed by results —> see another doctor, was finally coming to an end.
And yet, to this day (or rather yesterday) I'm a ball of nerves going in to have a pap smear.
But I'm not as nervous as I used to be about it.
Talking to my cervix helped me immensely. Especially when I talk smack to it.
Years ago while playing video games with my husband, he learned how competitive I can be. He grew up playing these things and I sucked at them. However, I quickly discovered that playfully insulting him surprised and distracted him enough so that I could try to beat him at the game. It often didn't work, but I loved making him laugh by talking shit.
And it made me laugh so hard that my sides, belly, throat and cheeks hurt long after I stopped.
Eventually, I started talking smack about anything that I didn't enjoy because it helped to distract me and get through it while also reminding me to look for the humour in any situation. And I've had a situation or two that have been very trying to get through. Paps included.
So yesterday, I said a smutty little prayer to my cervix while my doctor was down there. She laughed with me (not at me, I checked). And hopefully, I don't have to wait five weeks for the results!
But while I wait, I've got some other practices that I can turn to to help me get through it.
If you're going through a tough time, and want something more than smack talk, perhaps some of these may help:
Don't forget the value of small things. (This is how I'm spending November)
Get curious about who you'll be when you push past your discomfort.
Keep an eye out for a rainbow.
Yes, your past is important. As is your future. But it won't come if you ignore what's happening now.
How to be your biggest cheerleader.
I wasn't kidding when I said that we need to talk about suicide. I know I wrote to you about this last month, but it's still important... especially around the upcoming holidays.
But I highly recommend smack talk if you've never tried it. The dirtier and more vulgar the better. Just keep your audience (yourself included and those within earshot) in mind. You're not aiming to hurt anyone, just a little booster shot of funny to your system.