For those who take 21 seconds out of their day to read my garbled nonsense, you will know that I tend to write about things that are reminiscent of conversations you have with your mates… whilst drunk… out of earshot of people who will judge you. Or it’s just attention seeking ranting. Now this is fine. However as a wee challenge, my friend suggested I write something a little more meaningful instead of great works of verbal farting. And it’s not because she thinks I write shite (I do) But because she knows I find it incredibly difficult to do 2 things… focus and be serious. But I like little tasks and I enjoy showing off my prowess and depth with hard hitting global issues (this is all a lie) I figured why the hell not! So here is my first instalment of ‘seriousness’… a subject that I loathe but can’t stress the importance of enough. Smear tests. *feel free to dry heave… NOW!*
Now I’m not gonna beat around the bush (pun most definitely intended) Smear tests are horrendous. There’s no sugar coating the fact that a nurse rummaging in your vaginal canal with a cold blunt item is any fun. At all. Even when a softly spoken nurse whispers ‘just relax’ can you get away from the fact that your legs are akimbo and nobody is getting any sexual pleasure. None. Whilst you try and relax (which for the record you can’t) and pretend that a sterile object is not inside you, the only thoughts that go through your mind are that you are being violated but you’re also too polite to do anything about it. After my first smear test I cried. I’m pretty sure my virginity was taken and to cheer me up I made my mum buy me a pizza… a whole one to myself. I’m a delicate flower damn it!
I was putting off going for a smear test for a couple of years until my mother who is a nurse, found a letter and screamed at me for being an asshole. Her reaction was similar to the reaction I get when I tell people I don’t like The Beatles! Now don’t look at me like that… bitch I didn’t shoot Lennon! I just think the music is pony. But I digress…
It wasn’t until my friend called me when I was travelling in Oz to tell me she had cervical cancer at the age of 25… that shit got real. My initial reaction as always with horrific news was to laugh and then suggest we go wig shopping when I get home if she loses all her hair! Totally thoughtful and appropriate. However immediately after the phone call I returned to my campervan and wept like a baby! It was at the height of the Jade Goody madness and her death, so the only thing running through my head was… shit she’s going to die. Luckily and thankfully she didn’t! However my buddy no longer has a womb as a result of her life saving hysterectomy. But she doesn’t have to have a period ever again… so swings and roundabouts! :)
Ever since this terrible disease touched someone close to me it made me realise how 10 minutes of awkwardness (5 mins of me psyching myself up and refusing to remove my underwear and 5 mins of latex glove rummaging and “Just relax Shem”) is no bother at all if it can potentially save your life. If my friend hadn’t gone for her regular check-up then it wouldn’t have been found and she probably wouldn’t be here today. I have also been told from my ex- cancerous friend that a smear test is nothing compared to her intrusive examination which consisted of TWO people poking around… AT THE SAME TIME!! So in fairness… us girls need to quit our bitching and suck it up!
It’s always those things in life which prove to be a struggle or effort that are usually the most rewarding… and nothing is more rewarding than keeping healthy. I appreciate that I sound like an ad campaign for cervical cancer and if so… then good! It’s incredibly important to get your junk checked out. Yes I joke and yes I’m probably the laziest lady in the universe… but girls we need to get our shit together. And yep even us lady lovers out there! Just because we refrain from using a penis to get our kicks… we are also at risk. Immunity of cervical cancer does not exist… there are no rules if cancer decides to ruin your life. Nothing should never ever be taken for granted just because it’s uncomfortable. Ya dig?!