Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News!

I'm angry. I'm sad. And most of all, I'm scared.

This time last week I had never heard the words colposcopy, acid wash (in reference to anything other than jeans, that is), and low-grade abnormal cells. After a 2-hour visit to the doctor, I am now very educated on the topic. Thanks to tears and an Abnormal Pap Smear pamphlet.

Last Tuesday I was sitting in my classroom eating lunch, as I typically do at 11:40 a.m. when my phone began to vibrate, indicating that I had a voicemail. I checked it, and as the nurse identified herself and her location, I immediately became nervous. After my check up in December, her last words to me were, "No news is good news." I now understand that phrase means simply, "We're lazy and will only call you if we have to." When I listened to the voicemail, the nurse stated as vaguely as she could that I needed to call her back and schedule another appointment. When I tried calling her back she was at lunch and I had a class to teach.

I was walking down the hall, and it must have been apparent that I was upset (even though I had not been crying yet) because one of my dear teacher friends pulled me into her classroom and asked if everything was alright. If you know me, you know that if I am on the brink of tears, asking me what's wrong will only summon them out to play even faster. So, in the solace of a sweet math teacher's classroom I bared all of my emotions and handed my class off to another teacher until I could pull myself together long enough to fake it.

I finally got a call back around 2:00 p.m. and scheduled a colposcopy for the following week.

Thanks to a snow day in our district today, I didn't have to take a personal day to make a trip to Georgetown to visit my doctor for the second time within a month. Since she made it very clear that she was going to be of little help preparing for the procedure, I decided to do a little research of my own online. (Probably not the best idea if you are one who gets nervous easily and start thinking you have all of the symptoms of every possible problem relevant.) Thankfully I was able to talk with a friend and found a few good articles to read that made suggestions on what to do before a colposcopy. So, as I headed out the door to the doctor's office, I popped an ibuprofen and said a prayer.

When I arrived to the doctor's office I was impressed with their efficiency in getting me out of the waiting room and into the doctor's office. However, I do believe I would have rather sat in the waiting area with my pants on than in the doctor's office with my pants off, covered with a sheet for an hour before the doctor even poked her head in. They say I must have to have patience working with special education students - I do not. I was highly aggravated at this point because not only was I worried, scared, confused, and frustrated, the doctor (or a nurse) never even popped in to check on me or to see if they could get me a glass of water. I mean, you're mouth gets pretty parched when your anxiously waiting to see if you have cancerous cells.

Once the doctor entered the room she began to explain what was going to happen. She talked me through the whole procedure. The acid wash would identify the areas with abnormal cells and highlight them white so she would know which area(s) to biopsy. After what seemed like an eternity, which lasted, in actuality, only about 5 minutes, she left the room and I got dressed.

As she was filling out the chart, I asked her the question, "So what could the abnormal cells mean or be?" Seeming a little annoyed, she answered, "It is still unclear." So I used the practice that I use with my students on a daily basis, going back to the basics and rephrasing the question to make it easier to understand. "Why is a colposcopy done? What are you checking for? What could the abnormal cells mean?" Again, she began to shrug off my question until she looked at me and saw tears in my eyes. She looked at me with a "why is this girl crying?" look and said, "Are you worried? Is that why you are crying?" Having lost all patience at this point, I sighed, looked at her and said, "Yes. I am angry, I am sad, and I am most of all worried. I have no clue what these abnormal cells could mean, I don't know how it will affect fertility, and I just want my questions answered by the people who do know."

Advice: When a woman is worried about something you can help her with, health related or not, do not ignore her.

She looked shocked for a second and asked one of the nurses to bring me an Abnormal Pap Smear pamphlet. She said, "This will not tell you exactly what to expect in the future, but it will explain what the cells could mean." So - I paid an outrageous amount of money today to be handed a pamphlet, thank you, doctor.

The pamphlet said abnormal pap smears could range from nothing serious, such as an infection that would clear itself in a few months to a couple years time, to pre-cancerous cells that could lead to cervical cancer. Unfortunately after the whole ordeal is said and done, I still have to wait 10 to 14 days to find out what my abnormality means.

My dear, sweet husband has been so wonderful to me. He has had to deal with crying, talking, listening, and cuddling for the past week, and I predict that he will probably have to do a little more of that over the course of the next two weeks. I pray his patience will not run out on me as mine did with the doctor.

"Don't worry about things you cannot change." Well, I'm trying.