Ouch....get that thing away from me

One day you’re contemplating what outfit to wear to the races and the next day you’re thinking about whether or not those dodgy cells in your cervix might turn out to be something nasty. Funny how life throws a googly almost to punish you for being stupidly shallow and avoiding facing the real issues in life. I guess that’s what you call, erm, ‘getting real’.

I’m not being dramatic about my little impending hospital appointment (much) but it’s hard not to be a little bit scared when you don’t really know what to expect, apart from some poking and prodding, possible lasering, freezing, cutting and biopsying, depending on what’s erm, ‘up there’. My friend Sam, I’m sure won’t mind me saying, has gone through many a similar procedure in her time. Having had kids, I guess this is somewhat of an inevitability. I knew asking her about this would result in on thing- brutal honesty. There was talk of ‘hot lasers’ ‘hand squeezing’, ‘some bleeding’ and also I’ve heard speculation about ‘nappies’. None of these things fill me with much delight it has to be said.

The classic moment came last night when Steve and I were discussing said hospital appointment and I told him that after a biopsy or lasering or freezing, I was to become a sex free zone for a month whilst my insides sorted themselves out. He repeated the words ‘ a month’ as if it were a truly alien concept- I think he thought being the ‘hand squeezing recepticle’ was as bad as it was going to get…

I’ll keep you posted….29th June is D day if you’re interested so all positive vibes for ‘not too much abnormality’ are happily received. Sam- I know I’m being a massive girl, but godammit it’s my bits, I’m entitled!