Dear diary,
Today I had to visit the gynaecologist (the clicking sounds you’re hearing now are my male fans who are quickly escaping to blogs about safer subjects like baseball or cars or flower arranging. Anything but gynaecologists.).
My GP found a HUGE polyp (well, she did say “it’s a big one” about ten times, which did worry me a bit) on my cervix and it needs to be removed. I thought the gynaecologist would do that today. He thought so too.
“We’ll have a look”, he said and really meant ‘we’, because a trainee doctor was interested in my internal goings on too. So there I was, not in the most elegant position with two guys taking a close look at the polyp on my cervix.
“This isn’t my idea of a fun afternoon”, I said.
”Haha”, they politely replied from the other end.
“Did your GP show you where the polyp is?”, gynaecologist asked.
”How agile do you think I am?”, I joked.
What else can you do if you’re lying there, legs up in stirrups and someone poking around inside you with all kinds of metal instruments.
”She could have used a mirror to show you”, gynaecologist felt the need to explain how I could have seen the polyp with my own eyes. “I could show you now if you like.”
”No thank you, I believe you on your word that there is one.”
If I would have been interested in polyps on cervixes, I’d have become a gynaecologist.
“It is a big one with a wide stalk”, he mumbled to trainee doctor. “Let’s see if we can remove it by turning it. Otherwise we’ll have to saw it off.”
It would have been so nice if he’d been able to remove the polyp there and then. Unfortunately however, the polyp and I have gotten incredibly attached to each other and it was adamant to stay firmly fixed to my cervix.
So gynaecologist pulled and twisted and I said “ouch” and he said “sorry” a couple of times and then his head appeared again. “I will have to remove it with a thermic saw, so you’ll need to come back another time for an outpatient treatment. We’ll have to use a local anaesthetic.”
Phew.
I love a local anaesthetic. In fact, why stop there? Knock me out completely and wake me up when you’re done.
“Unless you want an epidural or a general anaesthetic?”
“Local anaesthetic is fine by me.” (Stupid me, pretending to be brave.)
So, polyp and I returned home and we will visit gynaecologist again (I can almost type ‘gynaecologist’ fluently now, and ‘anaesthetic’ too) in a few weeks for ‘operation chainsaw’.
Such fun!
photo from rgbstock.com
Ouch! That doesn't sound like a lot of fun. Good luck becoming unattached to each other.
ReplyDeleteI'd have had to say 'Yes please' to having a look!!! If at all possible, I've watched all internal proceeding I've had. The psychedelically coloured screen the pictures come on far surpasses TV!!
ReplyDeleteI've also had a polyp removed from behind a back tooth - they told me it would grow again, and after about 35 years it's now back the same as ever, but somehow, I no longer end up biting it when I chew my food!! You are not the only one who can do gruesome tales... ♥
OH, I agree with you... knock me out and wake me when it's over, please!...
ReplyDeleteMost times polyps are nothing but a nuisance, hope all goes well and let us know!...
You are a trooper, laughing at your comments to the docs.
I am holding myself in check and so far am managing to refrain from leaving an inappropriate comment. My mama raised me right.
ReplyDeleteOh BBFF! You know me and my mood swings. Right now I'm going between thinking good thoughts about your upcoming "thermal sawing", laughing hysterically at your description of your latest visit to the vaginacologist, and crushing my legs together so tightly that my girl parts may never see the light of day again. Remove it by turning it? ARRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!!!
ReplyDeleteSending hugs and looking forward to the next installment.
I hope your seperation goes smoothly, :)
ReplyDeleteI would prefer to be totally knocked out too, you're brave.
Hugs & love,
Mimi
Carolina,
ReplyDeleteOnly YOU do I know could get me laughing about something like this till tears made me blurry.
That crappy p thing should ne shuddering. Thermal saw. I'm sorry, that saw word maybe should not be used - pertaining to the lower regions.
Unless you forgot to mention something...you'll make it through with flying colors and have such a lovely dinner with strong drinks later that day prepared for you!
Keep that humor, don't think another thought direction...with you in my thoughts and everything else!
XO
Kac
"Clidk!"
ReplyDeleteUgh. I'd go the general anaesthetic.
ReplyDeleteOh dear, forgive me, but I laughed all through this post.
ReplyDeleteI know I shouldn't, this is no laughing matter, but, sorry, again, I'm at it again. What kind of chainsaw are they going to use, did you ask?
Sorry.
I'm with Allhorsestuff. The word "saw", in any and all permutations, should not be in the same sentence as anything to do with genital areas. Having said that, though, best of luck and PLEASE do not post any photos of the polyp. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI would have wanted to see, just because I'm so gullible that I have to have proof that I'm not being fooled.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure (almost sure) they'll use a very fine, delicate saw. Anyway, you shouldn't have grown too attached. Those polyps have no loyalty.
Your great sense of humour helps you through quite a bit. Good on ya
ReplyDeleteBy the way you were describing it, it sounds as if you've got a mighty oak tree living inside you! The only thing missing would be the squirrel!!
ReplyDeleteAnyhoo, hope everything will go smoothly with 'operation chainsaw'.
Oh poor you! Ouch, Ouch! Good luck with your upcoming appt! No fun!
ReplyDeleteI have to join with everyone else. Ouch. And the saw and genitals should never be mentioned in the same sentence. That said, I hope the final separation goes well. Do you think that trainee doc would video the process for you?
ReplyDeleteWV:vilephor - and it is vile to have anyone pawing around your intimate bits with surgery in mind.