disclaimer or something

A mummy-hand holding, (former) biker gang affiliating, hippie influenced semi crunchy granola mom's ramblings and reminisings on an off-kilter life

Friday, April 24, 2015

the new F-word

Fuck the word fuck and all the wussy, wimpy, petty little things that come with it.

Cancer. Cancer is totally the new F-word.

I went in for a pap smear a few months ago and got a call. They found HPV, you know, genital warts. Eww, I thought. I wanted to hide it from my husband, I mea, eww, but told him. I mean, till death do us part, so he took it pretty well, until they said "follow up".

My husband jokes and calls me Misses Followup. Anyone would look at his plumper shape and my jow-the-hell-did-you-give-birth-twice-and-fit-in-your-high-school-clothing self and label him the follow up gug, but it is me.

Well over a month later, I found myself in a clinical surgery room sneering at medical oxygen tanks and scalpels and thinking, BREATHE. It did not help that the surgeon was an hour late, because bad thoughts love these empty room full of surgery equipment moments.

They put a microscope up my lady bits, a bit uncomfortable but hey I gave birth without pain meds, this procedure is my bitch, y'all.


Until, you have HPV 16, that and its bff 18 account for like 80% of cerival CANCER. Suddenly, fuck looses steam. The nurse holds my hand, pets it, gives a look of pity as the doctor does a biopsy (another word to replace fuck). I turn white.

I see a chunk of iodine-blackened flesh floating in a pee cup, and "a week or so for results"  echoes in my brain. "Abnormality, like daggers, invades my thoughts and stops my breath for a moment. I am too young. I have small childrdn Oh Dear God, I think. The doctor lets me sit there "in case I am faint" and says upon results, we will develop a plan, discuss steps. My blood boils. I pray like mad and keep my composure, somehow.

I think of facebook posts , post this if you support cancer research, lost a loved ond to cancer. Cancer was some far off idea. My grandpa died of it when I was four, but he was a chain smoking alcoholic. My other grandpa passed when I was a teen but I had only met him once, also a chain smoking alcholic. Not than anyone deserves cancer, but they kinda had a heavy hand in the roulette game.

But suddenly it was me, a mom and wife, woman in my 30s, nice dorky little Christian stay at home mom with fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Abnormalities, the type that leads to most cancer, CANCER.

I await my results. I am strong. I am  woman hear me roar (while I wipe back tears).

Cancer. It is the new four letter word.

<a href="http://yeahwrite.me/moonshine/"><img src="http://yeahwrite.me/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/moonshine.png"></a>


  1. Wow, so crazy. I am so, so sorry. Please let me know what happens asap.

  2. I do hope the results don't bring ominous rumblings with them ... all the best ...

  3. This happened to me two years ago. What I wish someone had told me was that I would have to undergo a follow-up biopsy after every pap, to the tune of a couple hundred dollars after insurance. And since it's the cancer-causing strain, a pap is recommended every 6 months to a year. They basically want to keep an eye on it since it's slow-growing. I can't even afford to go to my doctor for other things now, because after this third go-round I now owe roughly $600. I make $25 a month payments (what I can afford right now) and there's a 1.5% finance charge on the outstanding amount. HPV is expensive and creates long-term problems, and I want to smack every parent that declares their child won't be getting the vaccine because 1) it'll turn them into a sex-crazed whore, 2) omg autism, 3) if people have sex, cancer is a good punishment so why prevent it?