I think anyone who has ever got a pap smear can agree with me - they're horrid. I avoid going to the doctor unless I absolutely must, I've always been that way. But, my menstrual cycle comes with horrible, crippling pain that only birth control can manage. To get put on birth control, you have to visit a gynecologist. I was 23 years old, and a nomad. I had no intentions of settling down, or being tied down to a single place or person. My pain involved with that lovely time of month was starting to get very out of control, to the point where I was hurting even when it wasn't Shark Week. I tried multiple times to get in to the Health Department to get put back on some form of contraceptive. But every appointment I made was cancelled. It was EXTREMELY frustrating. So finally, I went to an urgent care to get a quick exam needed for birth control.
During my visit, the doctor said she noticed I needed to see a doctor more specialized, because in her words I had "something not right" that she wasn't qualified to treat. She recommended another doctor for me to see, and called for me to make me an appointment. Again, frustrating. Also, kind of scary. But, life had to go on. When the day of the appointment came, I was on time, and convinced I would be dead in a matter of days. (Have I mentioned I have horrible anxiety? It really did not help in this situation at all.)
My first exam with Dr. DeRosa was as pleasant as such an exam can realistically be. He has a wonderful bedside manner, and managed to make even this chicken feel not so cowardly. He told me in office that he agreed, something wasn't right. But he had to send things off to the lab before he could tell me anything with certainty. He did mention, however, that there was a good chance there was something very wrong. He didn't want to scare me, but he also knew I deserved to know things could be complicated. I left his office still without birth control, waiting for a phone call to tell me what the next step would be.
That call came about a week later. Turns out, I had contracted HPV. There's a lot of negative stigma around HPV, but in reality, it's a virus that pretty much everyone gets at some point in their life if they're sexually active. Some people never have any symptoms; it passes through their system and is gone before it could be noticed or even passed on. Some people contract strains that cause simple reproductive discomfort. Other strains can cause genital warts, and there are a few rare strains that can cause cancer. They still weren't sure which strain I had, but they knew that I was officially considered high risk. They scheduled me another appointment, for about a month later. Being the frugal gal I am, I immediately started putting money in savings. Anything that didn't go towards rent or surviving got deposited in the bank, as a "just in case fund". After the next appointment, I was told I had some precancerous cells, and they were able to scrape them off. I was told I was in the clear, and that life could continue as usual. I was told to come back in 6 months for another check up. I kept saving my money.
In May of 2008, I had my next exam. This time, they found more precancerous cells. At least a golf ball sized area of them. So they made my next appointment, for a minor removal surgery, out patient and only slightly invasive. So I worked more hours, and saved more money.
Trey and I started dating June 12, 2008. My first removal surgery was June 19, 2008 - Trey's birthday. And love his heart, he chose to go with me to my surgery, and to spend the whole day with me while I recovered, instead of going out with his friends to celebrate his birthday. I insisted he go and have fun, and he insisted I needed him more. I have dated some very caring men, but that was the first time it really felt like someone actually cared about me. It was also the first time I willingly let someone play nurse for me that wasn't my mother. Little did I know, I was soon to get a big lesson in humility.
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| One of the first pictures of Trey and I :) |
The results came back negative from that surgery as well. In fact, they were very confident that they had removed it all, and that things would be just fine. Trey made me feel very secure and confident as well. So I treated myself, and spent most of the money I'd been saving. Some went towards buying new clothes, and some went towards us taking a lovely vacation, camping at Blacksburg Lake in Virginia with our friends and roommates. It was a dream of a summer. I still had some pain and discomfort, but it was minimal. And I was falling in love. I didn't have time to think about my pain, I was too busy thinking about Trey. I was happy.
I had two more surgeries in 2008. The last one was in the beginning of December. Trey and I were sitting at our apartment on December 23, 2008, when I got a call from the doctor's office.
"Your results are in. You have cancer. We'll get you in the office first thing after the New Year. Merry Christmas."
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| I always call this picture "Cancer Christmas". It's fitting that it appears Trey has a halo. |
Merry Christmas, indeed.
(to be continued)
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