Girls in big dressing gowns!

well, the comprehensive results of my biopsies came back: "Pre-Cancerous Cells". Better than I hoped I suppose, thought slightly worrying that my Pre-Op appointment was the following week, and my operation the week after.

At the Pre-Op I was advised that I would be having a Cone Biopsy and quite a bit of cervix removed, but should be back at work after a week. Whether that is a good thing or not I was undecided - I felt like loosing half a body part should warrant more than 5 days leave!

On the morning of the op I was positively pooing myself - I hate needles, am a massive wimp, and was so scared of the findings. In my little bay I sat in paper pants and watched TV from 7am whilst watching every other woman going down to theatre. Every time a Nurse walked past my heart would skip a beat, but still they would walk on by with another anxious lady in a fluffy dressing gown.

I am the most anxious person in the world and, as sods law would have it, was the last woman to go into theatre that day - 4 hours after arriving!!! I was walked into Theatre and confronted by in excess of 20 people - they had failed to mention that as it was a teaching hospital there would be students observing. Now i know they need to learn, but do they really have to be there when I am awake and aware that in ten minutes time they are going to be looking at my lady garden on a huge 10 foot screen!!!! This, combined with the wait, increased my anxiety to a point where the man with the cannula was coming towards me with an evil look on his face. Of course, I again did the adult thing and cried...oh, and threatened to run!

Although one of the Doctors chose to ignore my threat and still started trying to undress me, another Surgeon saw sense and told everyone to clear off. A nurse held my hand (held me down I should say) and it was agreed it would be in everyone's interests to allow me to have gas to knock me out - the threat of running worked!

As the gas mask was placed over my face I felt an all-over numbness develop followed by a high pitched noise until the next thing i know I was trying to rip my breathing tube out in the recovery room.

I didn't feel too bad and had only been in theatre for 30 minutes, but it felt like forever and I really wanted to go home. As soon as I could they let me go in the luxury of a wheelchair. Unfortunately for everybody else the anaesthetic had sent me a bit loony! With my jogging bottoms pulled up to my bust, and my hoody on back to front, I proceeded to leave the hospital crying that all the fat people got seen first. I then cried that I was left until last because my dressing gown was not fluffy enough, and that they didn't even give me any soup and I was poorly and needed soup. Unfortunately for my Mum and Him, I continued like this for about the next 2 hours, including the hour long journey home, until i eventually fell asleep and gave them some peace.

My recovery was going well until one awful day, the day the smell came! It started normal enough, woke up, got showered, and had a Mac Donald's breakfast (it was a few days after and I was luckily able to drive short journeys). On the way home I thought "hmm, that smells strange". I didn't think much of it until I went to see my friend and as I sat there I realised that it wasn't the smell that had followed me, it was me that smelt! Very embarrassing, but luckily having an infected wound gets priority treatment so a dose of super duper antibiotics were quickly surprised - though I think the Doctor was writing the prescription before I even entered the room as she would have smelt me coming!

So, 3 weeks off work (the infection was nasty), half a cervix, and some looniness, I eventually received my results. I had CIN3 pre-cancerous cervical cells, all removed. Yeah!!!!

Blackpool is in a very strange place!

My appointment for the colposcopy arrived about 2 weeks after my evil letter. For those who don't know a colposcopy is where they use a binocular type thing to have a look at your cervix.

My mum came with me to the appointment, proving the old adage that you always need your mum! We were delayed by an hour and the fear was gripping me deeper and deeper. In my head I was counting down the minutes to being told I had cancer. The only light relief was my mum nipping off to the ladies and coming back saying "I know equality is important, but putting urinals in the ladies toilets is going a bit far!". I need to point out that I had been to the ladies already and knew there were no urinals in there...my mum had just been to the Mens!

I got called in to see the consultant and sat in yet another waiting room, this one surrounded by posters about cancer - as if I needed reminding! When I eventually went in to see the consultant he explained they would have a good look and might even try to remove the nasty cells whilst I was there.

Going into the examination room I was met by two rather cheerful nurses who told me to "pop off" my pants, get in the stirrups, and await the Doctors arrival. Unfortunately they did not warn me that the colposcopy camera was already on and I turned and was greeted with a 20inch view of my vagina. Trust me when I say this - no one needs to see that!

When the consultant arrives he faffed around for a while and squirted some solution on my Cervix. When i glanced at the screen the whole thing was lit-up like Blackpool! I took that as a bad sign, made even worse by the Doctor rushing off to get the Consultant and proceeding to whisper, not very quietly, how I had "high-grade" changes that were "all over". Thanks for the compassion Mr Doctor Man! As if its not bad enough being laid legs-akimbo for everyone in a 10 mile radius to see on a big screen, you have to slip that little gem out.

Now, I think my reaction was most mature: I cried! I didn't only cry, but had a full on paddy fit, and when the Nurse told me to calm down and ask me about where I was going on holiday I politely reminded her that she was a Nurse, not a sodding hairdresser!!!!

When it was all over, and the tears mopped-up and me breathing normally, aided by singing the whole of "My Favourite Things" from the Sound of Music, I was ushered back into the Consultants Office. He informed me that a lot of my cervix was affected, but that the biopsies should hopefully confirm that it wasn't cancer, but not to worry as I could have my operation under general anaesthetic as the cells were high and awkward - well I have always been a very awkward person so I expected no less!

And so the blood began

Lets start at the rather bloody beginning.

For most of 2010 I propped up the Tampax shares. I know its gross, and some people may bring up their lunch now, but imagine how I felt. Barely a day went by without me bleeding. I had finished having the Depo injection in an attempt to get up the duff. It was a sensible decision that I easily bullied Him into. We both had good jobs, a mortgage together, a cat, and a healthy joint bank account.

By the August the Tsunami of blood arrived and I couldn't handle it anymore so I went to the Doctors where I have pretty much remained a permanent fixture since!

I had blood test, pelvic exams, swabs, took tablets, and things didn't improve. By December I was at my wits end and was hit by the most violent sickness bug known to man: The Winter Vomiting Virus!

After a few days being friends with the loo I returned to work, only to be returning home again after a few hours. That hour long journey was the worst of my life as I was crippled in absolute agony.

Back to the Doctors and they decided to do a smear test, and some other blood test, just to rule things out before referring me to the Fertility Clinic as we had been trying for a year - and that is very difficult when you are always bleeding!

Between Christmas and New Year I returned back to the Doctor for more painkillers and was happily told my test were clear so we would more the referral along in the New Year.

Then, one night on my first week back to work in January 2011 I returned home to a rather thick letter. "Ah", I thought, "My fertility referral paperwork". Unfortunately that was not to be my first wrong presumption in 2011, and started the year off on a definite depression: They had found abnormal cervical cells that may, or may not be, cancerous and I was to be referred for an urgent Colposcopy!

Any day now...

Well, here I am, hanging out the kitchen door having a "sneaky" cigarette in the rain whilst dear Him thinks I'm washing up. This is an especially bad excuse as I put the dishwasher on an hour ago, but luckily he fell for my deceit. Its quite clear that the water rumbling sound stemming from the kitchen is the washer, honestly...

Anyhoo, aside from my evil lies and bad habits, I am something else that aint pretty either - I am 29 and on the verge of the (hopefully) temporary menopause.

There is a long back-story to this (cervical cancer scare, PCOS, endometriosis, infertility) and I will cover it at some point but for now I will leave it short and not-so-sweet! Besides, other than the cathartic feeling I may get from writing it all down, I doubt anyone will read it and no-one will exactly be on the edge of their seats. Like most of the 99.9% stuff in cyberspace this blog will likely remain only ever read by its writer.