Yes ladies, and lads if you’ve managed to stick around, there is a light at the end of my fanny tunnel. Finally people of Gash Gossip, I have some good news to share. Some rather unexpected, good if not slightly ironic news. In short, my pesky CIN 2 cells which were removed a month ago came back from their most recent biopsy as a CIN 1… which technically means I didn’t need to have them removed in the first place. Isn’t in ironic? Don’t you think! I was in the 70%. The 70% of women whose cells will change naturally back to “normal” or “nearly normal”. GO VAGINA!
CIN 1 – it’s unlikely the cells will become cancerous and they may go away on their own; no treatment is needed and you’ll be invited for a cervical screening test in 12 months to check they’ve gone.
CIN 2 – there’s a moderate chance the cells will become cancerous and treatment to remove them is usually recommended.
My little naughty cells must have already changed from a 2 to a 1 whilst I was waiting to have my Loop Excision Treatment so that by the time they were removed during the treatment they didn’t even need to be….. HA HA HA OH LIFE YOU ARE A FUNNY THING!
It may have been the month from the fire-y depths of hell – copious amounts of blood, numerous mental breakdowns, I’m sure my boyfriend wanted to dump me, some small bouts of depression and I didn’t even need the f****** treatment anyway. BUT! Life is good. I’m lucky and I am so grateful for a piece of good news, at last. It is also helping aid the mind. For the past 6 months I have been thinking my body is failing me, I’m going to die, whereas now I am thinking, my body is a miracle healer! Go you cervix! You do your thaaang you nasty lady!
The formal letter from the hospital described how I had 12 millimetres worth of cell-age removed, the biopsy showed they were in the CIN 1 category and all other margins were clear, meaning there were no other suspicious cells lurking about. I did some booty shakin’ in my room. And even though I’m slightly peeved I had the treatment done *side eye*, I’ve got to remember that at the time, I needed it and no one could have known for sure that this would be the outcome. Even though I feel like my brain took a bit of a beating this month, the only thing that did keep me going was knowing that I had done right by my body. It was just the other 86% of my brain that went on a short holiday to crazy town.
However, today, writing this, I feel a lot less crazy. The least cray-cray I have done since this whole debacle started back in October 2017, nearly a year ago… (MAD!) I’ll always bang on about it, but it just shows persistence is key. You know your body, you have the power to get what you want and what your body part in question needs. Even if it takes 10 months. It was so worth it to open that letter and breathe. Breathe properly for the first time in a long time. And also, now I don’t have to completely hate on my fanny. I think we’ll always have a love/hate relationship but now I can get back to loving it rather than crying about it. Crying gets so boring.
I know that a lot of the crying has been my own general anxiety and health anxiety, but I think perhaps we under estimate how our mental health changes in keeping with our physical health. I did a wee bit of reading of other women’s experience with this procedure and a lot of them described feeling depressed, helpless and anxious, some of them were even given anti-depressants as result. It’s true. I fell out of love with myself and my body. I lost my confidence, a sense of myself, I couldn’t be intimate, I felt ugly, bloody, bloated, unworthy, you know, blah blah blah. But now I feel like I can get back to being a bit more me. I can see the light! And I’m hoping all women who are going through this or something similar are able to also find their light at the end of the tunnel.
The other good thing about this result is that rather than going back for another camera up my chuff and biopsy, I shall be attending my smear and HPV test like everyone else in 6 months time just to double check on everything, so need for another hospital trip. Keeping my fingers, toes and everything else crossed that everything comes back the same or completely “normal”, but if it doesn’t, I know what to expect and I’ll be ready for battle, a little older, wiser and stronger (cringe-y but true.)
Hoping all the rest of you who may be facing your own fanny fights are able to keep in good spirits and maintain some positivity. If you’re not, I feel you babe. Be kind to yourself. Take your time. Eat nice food. Listen to funny podcasts. Get all the cuddles you can. You’re going to be okay. Xxx.
And now to end this small chapter, to which I’m sure many more will follow, a small letter to my vagina as a conclusion to the last few months.
Firstly, kudos to you babe. You quite literally have been through the ringer. You’ve had several different people poke, prod, examine and insert foreign objects in to you without putting up a fight. You’ve seen swabs, vegetable peelers, cameras, lights, many a speculum and enough granny pants to sink a battle ship. Yet you remained fairly relaxed and well behaved throughout it all. You also looked as glamorous as you could for all of your appointments and meetings, even when things got tough.
You have been the stronger one out of the both of us, taking your sweet, sweet time to heal but now I understand why. You were making sure that I would be okay. I won’t forget the mornings where I would stare down into the toilet and think I may be having a major internal bleed or the cramps deep in my pelvis that made me want to vomit everywhere. But I know this was your way of mending and so I forgive you. And most importantly, I thank you.
I am forever grateful that you told me there was a problem and you kept letting me know. You were persistent. The driving force. The reason why I started this blog in the first place. And now look, your hard work has paid off and we are out of the woods for a little while.
Lastly, I now wish you the best in your future endeavours. You deserve to be treated, pampered, sexed up and loved. I hope that if we ever face anything else together we will be able to fight it with dignity, humour and lots of extra comfy, slightly scented, sanitary pads.
Forever yours (we are stuck together unfortunately for you),
Now let’s get serious about women’s health.