The H.P.V. Diaries Part 1: L.L.E.T.Z. Do It
White male gynaecologist & my vulva. Img source Unsplash / Daniele d Andreti
CONTENT & TRIGGER WARNINGS
Gynaecology, graphic descriptions of medical procedures, PAP smears, endometriosis is mentioned. Descriptions of medical procedures are marked with *graphic* before and after.
I am aware not all women have vulvas and not all vulva owners are women. I do not wish to upset or offend anyone, I am not comparing my situation or diminishing anyone else’s, I would just like to share my experience.
The following holds no educational information regarding HPV, pap smears or cervical screenings. This is my experience with these, as they happened to me. Information on these topics will be coming soon (promise).
I am passionate about sexual health and education and I love being able to share my knowledge and experiences with anyone who will listen, but some topics are easier for me to broach than others. Please be aware that this has not been an easy story for me to share, this is a topic that borders on triggering for me and while I have tried to uphold my boundaries while writing this, I did start treading murky waters. I can’t help but write with a side of humour and it is ok to laugh in bad situations, but I laugh while respecting my trauma, body and soul.
Without further ado, let’s talk about my vulva.
I remember going into my first pap having no idea what to expect, I didn’t even really know what they were for exactly, I just knew it was something all women had to do. Walking into the doctors office, flicking my hair back like ‘Yes, I am a strong, young woman!’. Then walking out of the appointment like ….wtf just happened.. did she just put her fingers in me? Did she scratch my uterus with a spoolie?
Years and years of paps/screenings, regular STI tests (because I am paranoid AF) and urethral inspections (got some weird deal with UTIs), I really became unbothered by having medical professionals down at my hoo-ha. So almost a year into my second long-term relationship, I really didn’t think much about going in for my screening, making me all the more confused when I got the call saying I needed to come back to discuss results. I didn’t quite understand what abnormal results meant and my doctor was acting weird. Asking me questions about my family history of cancer, asking me who I’d been having sex with, then talking to herself saying that I’d had the cervical cancer shots in school, then saying something about endometriosis. My doctor and I are really close and sometimes she underplays a situation until she has answers because she knows I will anxiety overthink myself into insanity, so her reaction to my results was not ideal. I totally kept my cool (not) and made my appointment with the gynaecologist.
He explained “abnormal results” a bit more and that it’s common for the body to pick up on the HPV and clear it up on its own, but for now we gotta check what’s going on. Keep in mind this was the first time ‘HPV’ had been mentioned to me at all and it was kind of just glossed over. He directs me to the procedure room, I get in the chair and he talks through his routine, speculum, vinegar wash then a swab of iodine that will light up any abnormal cells. The cells are lit and he tells me he wants to take a biopsy, but he’s going to use a numbing spray on my cervix first. Fine, great, whatever, I am a strong, young woman and sometimes procedures like this just have to be done. *graphic* Well, here is when it all went wrong. The numbing spray did not work properly. And the sharp forceps used to snip off a piece of cervix were somehow replaced with what I can only imagine was a pair of eyelash curlers without the rubber pads. I won’t go into any further details but let’s just say I was thoroughly traumatised. *graphic over*
While you digest that let me tell you a one of my fun pap stories..
I was in a deep dark depressed hole, extremely intoxicated and decided to tattoo my ankle. What was meant to be an asterisk turned into a scribbly blob because I was so intoxicated, I was using the tattoo gun like a biro running out of ink, that and I am also not a tattoo artist. My doctor (for some unknown reason) hates it. She was finishing up a pap and must have spotted my “tattoo” out of the corner of her eye, she yanked her hand out of my puss and grabbed my foot exclaiming “what the fuck is that?”. I started laughing and she goes “oh.. it’s your dumb tattoo, I always forget about it, I thought it was a melanoma or something”
maybe it’s mothman? I dunno
The results from the biopsy were “ok”, but now after abnormal results I have to have check ups every 12 months until my body clears the virus. ~ time passes ~ abnormal pap ~ gyno checks, no biopsy needed ~ time passes ~ abnormal pap ~ gyno checks, no biopsy needed ~ time passes ~ abnormal pap ~ gyno checks, no biopsy needed ~ time passes
March this year
I get the call I’m due for my pap, my regular GP is off so I have to see the other doctor, who just so happens to be the doctor I had as a child. I could tell he felt awkward about performing the pap (I’ll leave that tidbit for a little later on..) He says in regards to the results, they’ll call me if something is wrong, otherwise, no news is good news. Then I get news. Gotta go back in. “The virus has gotten worse and I need to go to the gyno ASAP but don’t lose sleep over it.” UMEXCUSEME?! The carefree little girl you once treated grew into fucking psychopath and will 100% lose sleep over this.
9/4/20
I am more anxious than usual going in to see my gyno, if the infection is worse he is definitely going to be taking a biopsy. I ask him lots of questions but don’t pay much attention to the answers because I feel frantic, my energy is not chill af rn. Finally we begin the procedure, he says the area is quite big and he is going to need to take biopsy. I focus on the feelings in my face, my nostrils, my breath. I try to ignore him talking through what he is doing but hear him mention numbing spray. *graphic* It works because I can only feel the “pressure” of him fumbling with my cervix like mr fucking magoo instead of the pinching, scratching, you’re-scraping-my-soul sensation that accompanies an un-numbed cervix. He makes a comment about how the forceps aren’t very sharp – literally, shut the fuck up. I feel the blood drain from my face and get the waves of sensations that herald a black out and fit (yes, I have fitted once or twice or four times) *graphic over*. I manage to keep my head and then he exclaims he is “All done!”. I lay for a little bit longer to gather myself. Grab a panty liner, re dress and head back into his office. He tells me about getting the sample tested, showing me the tiny piece of flesh floating around the container, the results won’t be in until after Easter. If they are bad, he will call me to come in and have the section of my cervix removed. Umm… pardon??
16/4/20
I wake up as the sun is rising, instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, I get up and walk to my window. I watch as the earth is bathed in orange light, her morning ritual. Everything is still and I feel the incredible sense within myself of just being, “what a wonderful day” I think to myself. I feel wide awake but get back in bed, maybe I will meditate or read, I pass the fuck out and the next thing I know my phone is ringing. “Hello Jordan, did I wake you up?”, seeing its 8.30 I lie and say no I’ve just been lazy this morning (?). He tells me the results are in and I need to have a section of my cervix removed. He usually does the procedure in the chair but the area he needs to remove is quite big and knowing how uncomfortable I get, he wants to put me under for surgery, he is sending me through the paperwork now to peruse then he wants me to call back and book in for the 28th. After a short call to my mum and a long cry, I start organising this surprise surgery. The anaesthetist’s receptionist was extremely rude and at the end of our exchange told me to call my insurance and double check the procedure was covered. Smart, but I always have a policy that covers gyno. 45 minutes later, sobbing on the phone to my insurance provider, they tell me I’m not covered.
Lit.
I call the gyno office back and let them know I am going to have to do it in the chair, “Great, he wants you in sooner then.” …great. I spend the rest of the day being a sook. Moping on the couch when mum says “come have a look at this sunset”. I follow her to the back balcony and once again the sky is glowing orange. Never taking the time to watch the sun set or ever being awake to watch it rise, I ponder what the universe is trying to tell me with the coincidences of seeing both today.
This might be a nice time to take another lil break and I will give you my FAVE pap smear story, this is of course the one I mentioned before, provided by my childhood physician. As I said, I could tell he felt awkward, making commentary and random noises “put this here, badum badum, and oooh yep, get the, this boop boop boop”. Like dude, you’re 100, and would have done a million of these, get over it. He continues scatting while he inserts the speculum, as he opens it he exclaims “There she blows!”.
Even though this has given me a low key complex over what my cervix must look like that “there she blows” is the phrase that came to mind, this will never not be funny. There. She. Blows.
22/4/20
Mum left me a drawing on the kitchen bench, she knows where I keep my pens and pencils but she used highlighters to colour it in. That actually means a lot to me because she knows I am very protective over my stationary. My sister drives me and runs up onto the concrete parking marker which is hilarious and typical of my sister. I’ve already taken a Xanax so I can laugh about her parking skills as we argue over my “inaccurate” damage report, this is also when I realise I have forgotten my wallet and have to ask her to pay for the procedure. Once we get inside, I can feel my hands fighting against the muscle relaxant, fiddling with my bag strap. He calls me in and he looks at me with a sympathetic, almost nervous for me, face. He knows how much I freak out during a regular biopsy so he must be concerned over how I will be during this. He starts to explain the procedure (which I have already googled, google imaged, googled “gone wrong”, googled “future side effects”) and then gets his pad of bright pink post it notes and starts to draw, explaining why mine will be so much more difficult and why he would have put me under, note – this is not comforting.
There she blows
*not graphic, but not great*“The cervix is like a donut, usually the effected cells are here around the opening, so we just do a little scrape like this. Your effected cells are like this. So I’ll have to move the speculum around and do two big scrapes. It’s just like cutting off a slice of cheese.”
I’m so glad he used the cheese analogy because nowhere on the internet had a cervix been compared to a block of cheese. *graphic over*
We go into the room and he leaves me to “get situated”, my sister does what she does best, makes me laugh, posing for a photo at the modesty cloth draping my knees, pretending she’s the doctor.
*graphic* He cleans the area and explains he needs to use a bigger speculum than usual. He does 5 needles of local anaesthetic and then he begins. It’s fine, I am in a meditation like state, focusing on my breathing, he and B are whispering things to me but I don’t know what. He moves the speculum to get the edges and that’s when he hits a part of my cervix that wasn’t numbed. I feel brig’s hands on my forehead and arm and hear her tell me to breathe. I didn’t realise I’d stopped. Trying to refocus, I concentrate on the sensation of air going into my nostrils – classic move – but all I can smell is burning flesh. I tried my best, but I am well and truly in my body and aware of everything that is happening. He finishes, cauterises, and then tells me he’s going to pull out the speculum. *graphic over* The speculum was so big, for a split second all I could think about was gape porn.
I lay and B starts to gather my things, this is when I realise I am violently shaking. Brig needs to helps me dress and supports me back into his office. Instructions are simple, no sex or tampons for 4 – 6 weeks. If I feel a bit off and have heavy bleeding in 7-10 days that’s a sign of infection and I need to call him straight away. Spotting and cramping are expected. The HPV should mostly be gone now, my body will react and fight any virus that is there. I have to go 2 years with clear pap smears and then I will be allowed to go onto the 5 year screenings “like everyone else”.
I get home and lay on the couch with an ice pack on my vagina and a heat pack on my abdomen. The cramps have started and they trigger a bout of menstrrhea*… sans mens[tration] and all I can do is flick my hair back and tell myself I am a strong, young woman.
I ultimately wanted to share this story because pap smears & cervical screening exams are so important and have had such a big impact on my life, but I still wouldn’t be able to explain the ins and outs with confidence. Outside of the ‘Sexual Health & Reproduction’ course I am taking, I have only heard of HPV a couple of times. None of them explaining how common or how serious it can be. I will be researching and reporting back on these over the next week or so but always remember, HAVE SAFE SEX! GET CHECK UPS! ASK YOUR DOCTOR QUESTIONS! STAY INFORMED!
*For those of you who don’t know or have never heard me talk about menstrrhea, during menstration your body releases chemicals that make the uterus contract, the contracting is what causes cramps. These chemicals also make the intestines contract, causing the need to shit. Therefore, a lot of women who have strong cramps also experience bowel movements that I like to call menstrrhea.
