Tag Archives: cervical screening

A very peculiar Tuesday (and let me remind you again to go for your smear test)

16 Sep

Today was weird. Apologies if a fairly weird post follows.

Today was the follow up from my “abnormal” smear test. I went over to Homerton Hospital for a colposcopy.

The last time I was in Homerton Hospital was just days before the pizza of doom. When I came back from New York, peeing blood with terrible cystitis, and had to haul myself over to ‘accident and emergency’. I remember not feeling that my ex was particularly empathetic. I had no idea he was planning the break up. But that’s another story.

The colposcopy wasn’t nearly as bad as I had worried it would be. Honestly, not even as bad as the smear test itself. Once I was positioned right with my legs up in the air, I relaxed. It felt like a yoga pose. I like yoga. I could do this.

Bonus, I got to watch it all on a big screen and the doctor talked me through what she could see. All was looking fine and dandy ’til she put in the dye. And then my cervix started to resemble my throat when I had tonsillitis. It wasn’t too pretty a sight.

So what does it mean? There are abnormal cells there that could be pre-cancerous. They took a biopsy (which felt quite unpleasant). Those cells will go off to get tested and in four to six weeks I’ll find out what’s going on down there. Then, I might need treatment. Or all might be OK for now.

If this all sounds a little disjointed and unsure, it’s probably because that’s how I feel. Suddenly, a lot of information comes your way. Terms you’ve never heard of. Things you’ve never considered (can I go swimming after my biopsy?). And I have every reason to believe that everything will be fine. But who knows.

I came out of my appointment today, got on the bus, got off outside my flat, came upstairs, and cried for about an hour.

I emailed my friend, who emailed back with words of absolute sense and reassurance.

I went to a restorative yoga class (which mostly involves lying on the floor, relaxing).

I came home, made pasta, watched the news.

And my ex was front-of-mind the entire time. If we were still together, what would he be telling me? What would he be doing? Would he show the same lack of empathy he did back in July last year, that morning that I found myself at the hospital, in agony?

In so many ways I love living on my own. But I’d really like somebody to talk to tonight. Even a cat.

Like I said, it was a weird day.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

All adventurous women do

14 Aug

episode-03-03-1024

Anyone who watches Girls will know exactly what this post is about.

I’ve ummed and ummed some more over whether to post about this at all. Does it cross a line into the too-much-information zone? But it’s certainly been on my mind for the last 24 hours. And frankly the more people who know about this stuff the better. Also, I think I might have jumped over that too-much-information line some time ago.

So. Yesterday I was off work with a migraine. Sick. Sore. Dosed up on painkillers. The whole works.

I went downstairs to get some fresh air and checked my mail. And there were the results of my smear test. I started opening them there and then, fully expecting them to say that everything was normal.

In fact, they were “abnormal”.

That’s quite a scary moment.

When I finally sat down and read everything in full I was less scared, but still worried. Here’s the deal: my results are borderline abnormal, so they tested for HPV and it came back as positive for high-risk HPV. I didn’t know what this meant and was too migrainey to Google anything so I read all the pamphlets the good old NHS had sent through.

For anyone who doesn’t know, HPV is the most common sexually transmitted infection around. 75% of us will get it at some point in our lives. There’s no test for it in men, and no symptoms. With women, certain strains will show up in a smear test. While the HPV itself is not cancer, it is linked to nearly all cervical cancers. Here’s the kicker: condoms cannot fully protect against it. You can read more here.

So what happens now? I wait eight weeks for another letter, which will give me an appointment to go for a colposcopy. Then they’ll decide if I need treatment.

No big deal, really. And great that it’s all been identified and there’s a course of action to sort things out. But – yes – unknown and a bit of a worry.

Also, it’s not a great feeling lying on your sofa in so much pain that you are struggling not to be sick, wondering what on earth HPV is and why you have it (and – let’s face it – whether my ex gave it to me), and having nobody there to tell you it’s going to be OK or to give you a cuddle.

But all adventurous women do.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,