What a car crash of a day yesterday was… Pun absolutely intended.
I woke up in a bad mood.. Kids were being utterly satanic and I could not wait to drop them to nursery for some peace and quiet. I drove to get coffee and on my way back I was smashed into by some jumped up twonk… Who within minutes sped away from scene. Absolutely not impressed by this situation. But hey that’s life!
Anyway, this blog post isn’t about my crash. It’s about the event that occurred later that day…
Yes you read right in the title… THE SMEAR TEST.
Well put it this way, I’d been egging myself up about it for around 2 weeks. After the mornings events, I wished to cancel the dreaded appointment. But like a trooper I am, I still attended.
I sit in the waiting room worrying.
I then here my name….
Urgh. No. Make it stop, this woman is about to see my bits and I’m cringing looking at her in the eye.
I know what you’re thinking… ‘She’s had two babies, what’s the issue?’.
There is something so different about someone staring at your lady garden when you are completely compos mentis… Instead of them witnessing you mooing like a Daisy cow in labour!
First come the questions… You know, the usual.. First date of your last period, are you on any contraception? When was your last baby etc etc.
Then came my utterly awkward small talk…. All of which was totally instigated by me!
It went something like this.
Me: So how soon will I know if I’m dying…. Cause to be honest I’m a little bit of an ‘Anxious Susan’ and I always think I’m gonna die… Thanks Google.
Nurse: *Stares blankly*
Me: Oh my god, please tell me your name isn’t Susan…. I’m so sorry.
Nurse: *Looks at me like I’m mental* No lovely… My name isn’t Susan. You’ll get the results back within a few weeks, try not to worry. Now if you could just lay on the couch with the modesty sheet over you and we can get going.
… Me being the ‘Anxious Susan’ that I am, had gone over this moment at least 12 times in the last 24 hours. I washed about 3 times and I wore a dress, so not at any point was I feeling awkward with my jeans at my ankles 😂
By the time I’d laid down, the small talk got even worse… Here we go.
Me: I shaved for the occasion…. Oh god, I mean not like I don’t ever shave but you know what Its like with two kids, not a moments peace… Oh sorry do you have kids btw? Oh god, I hope it’s okay. Oh god.
Nurse: Right I’m just having a look…
Me: A look? Oh dear, does it look bad? Oh no, does it look like a mutant vagina? (I cringed then and I’m cringing now, anyone that knows me personally, knows I think out loud)
Nurse: Speculum in, is it feeling okay? Nice and relaxed now lovely, almost over.
Me: Yeah I guess it’s okay, I’m sorry about this? (why I said sorry I haven’t a clue)
Nurse: Right just taking the sample… All done…. You can stop being an Anxious Sally now.
Me: Oh really all done? That was quick (literally had my kackers down for about 3 minutes). Thank goodness thats over.. Oh god I hope the results are okay… Oh… And it’s not actually Sally, it’s Susan 😬. (oh my actual God, my anxiety is making me seem even more crazy than I actually am).
Anyway, let’s hope my results weren’t inadequate so that this poor nurse doesn’t have to see my face again.
I’m not embarrassed by my Vagina, I’m embarrassed by my personality this time 😂😂😂.
The moral of the story ladies, is go and get your smear test. The hype of it is terrifying and awkward, but the reality is its quick and easy. Just try and perhaps play it a little more cool than I did eh?
Now if we could all calm my inner ‘Anxious Susan’ about the results, it would be much appreciated!