Another Phone Call and Some Worry

I did that thing I know I shouldn’t do and advise people not to do it.  I Googled.  Google can be amazing and helpful and useful and well, it’s how I prove I’m right most of the time.  However it can also be a dark and scary place.

A voicemail.  The hospital.  Unexpected.  No letter in the post.  No warning.  And I’m sure I’m blowing this all out of proportion.  I really hope I am.

I am good.  I look after myself other than a bit of cheeky sugar and some trans-fats.  Yes, my diet could be better, but overall it’s pretty good.  I don’t drink or smoke anymore and haven’t in years.  I stopped smoking 9 years ago and drinking 6 and a half years ago.  Where has the time gone?!

Due to going to University (the first time) in Scotland I started having smear tests younger than I would have done in England.  I was 20.  I got the letter and I went.  Yes there is information out there than 20 is too young and not needed but I look after me, so I went.  And did every time a new letter arrived, which wasn’t very often. I can’t remember.  3 years later or maybe even 5?  Anyway, whenever it did, I booked an appointment and went.

Yes it’s a bit embarrassing a bit uncomfortable but it’s over quickly, and better to be a bit embarrassed and uncomfortable with someone who does that job all day every day for about 5 minutes than not.  After having eggs frozen and having my ovary follicle size measured very regularly for about 3 weeks, I quickly got over the embarrassment stage.  And then at some point, I can’t remember when, maybe 5 years ago, my smear test results became abnormal – very common, nothing to worry about, come every 6 months.  So I did.  And they became more normal again and I think I went a year between appointments.  Ish.  I can’t really remember because I get the letter, I make the appointment, I get the results – abnormal come again in 6 months, or, it’s fine, come again in a year (ish I think) because they were abnormal previously, make the appointment and go.

Then the results became abnormal again and I was back to tests every 6 months.  And then I was referred for a colposcopy, a little biopsy of the cervix, luckily I seem to be superhuman when it comes to pain and it didn’t hurt me.  I can’t remember when I had the first biopsy done.  6 months ago, a year?  Anyways.  A letter arrived about 5 weeks ago for another one to check what the cells are doing.  So I went and had it about 3 weeks ago.  The woman who did it said it looked better than last time, but they took two biopsies from different places.  I didn’t think about it again until yesterday in fact when I thought I should have had a letter around now telling me the results.

A voicemail, I need to make an appointment.  I phoned.  I need to have a cone biopsy. 

Why?

I’ll have a look at your notes – it doesn’t say and I’m not a member of the medical team so I can’t tell you. 

Can you find out so I know before booking my appointment? 

Yes.  I or the colposcopy team will ring on Monday.

I then Googled. 

Fucking idiot.  A cone biopsy is carried out to look for/make sure it isn’t cervical cancer.  I am in that place I have never been.  I have never had the worry of a potential (lets really fucking well hope it isn’t) cancer diagnosis.  Diagnosed in a day has so many benefits, I had no idea what was going on!  Not this time.  It’s just an exploratory test.  The words cervical cancer in the test explanation don’t make it an easy one to wait for.  I’m sure I’m fine. My body was telling me for 6 months that something wasn’t right before my leukaemia diagnosis.  I’m tired, as always, but feel fine.  I’m sure I’m fine.

I look after me.  I will go. I will wait for the results and I will pray to god they are fine.

With love and so much hope,

XXX