At your cervix!

I had my first pap test in three and-a-half years today, not something I had been looking forward to or even anticipating, and so hadn�t bathed before I headed out to the clinic this morning for my appointment to have the spots on my back looked at. The young woman who examined me, a medical student under the supervision of a doctor, upon hearing that I had not seen my regular doctor in all that time, just did it, with my approval of course. She had a really hard time finding my cervix (my uterus is slightly tipped, or so they tell me) and spent more time than I felt was strictly necessary digging around in there looking for it. I told her in advance that I have vulvar vestibulitis and she tried to be gentle, but it was a humiliating and painful experience nonetheless, and the damned speculum pinched! There are times when I so hate being female!

The spots on my back themselves did not ring any alarm bells, either for her or the doctor who came in at the end to examine them himself. He was concerned though that they cause me discomfort, in that they itch, and are constantly being irritated by my bra strap. So he suggested that I have day surgery to have them removed, and the clinic will call me to set that up. I was also given a referral to a dermatologist for some pigmented areas on my face and legs which, I am assured, are not a health problem in themselves but may grow and become rather unsightly. I understand that laser treatments can lighten them.

As for my own doctor, she has been on cong� m�dicale for over two years and the clinic doesn�t know when she will be returning. This is so strange, because when I saw her before Christmas, she spoke as though she were working every day, seeing patients, and I should just call and make an appointment. Perhaps her �holiday� is for psychological reasons?

In any case, I am apparently very healthy, my blood pressure is 110/70, which is perfect, my weight is satisfactory, the doctor didn�t feel a blood test was necessary since I don�t appear to be anemic (I think I�ve got that licked now anyway), and I can go my merry way until I get my letter from the government on my 50th birthday telling me to go have a mammogram. That I am definitely not looking forward to.

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