Yesterday, with very little warning, a man with a power-gut and a last name that was Italian sliced out a piece of my cervix and I still don't know where exactly he put it. Of course, this was after he snort/giggled in agreement with me that 'Oh, this should be fun'.
I expected your average pap-scraping when I left the waiting room of screaming children, but what I got was that ordeal x100. I couldn't help but moan and whimper as the clamps used to pry me open began to bruise my insides and various probes had passed through.
'Are you alright?'
'No, it hurts'.
Swish swish, some solution was sprayed into me.
'Hey, do ya wanna see your cervix?'
'No, (whimper) not really', I replied.
I did manage to catch a glimpse though of the mysterious fleshy (odd and indescribable) internal mechanism on video display beside me before the man in green sliced a piece of my fleshy insides. He stuffed some coppery substance inside me before I was allowed to close my legs again and he left before I sat up and was able to tell the nurse, 'Ughhh, uhh, I'ma na feelin' soooo gooooo----". She ran out to get the towels and the juice.
The body is a strange thing. Apparently, it is a natural reaction for one to feel faint, dizzy, weak, nauseous and be in panicked cold sweats for a few hours after experiencing trauma to the cervix. Who knew? Certainly not me. It just doesn't make much sense to me, really.
I'm usually fine with these sorts of things, and so after the nurse let me lay down on the table for a while, drink some juice and take some deep breaths, I was a little embarrassed and ready to get out of there as soon as possible. I didn't expect to have to sit down halfway through putting my pants back on, but I shrugged it off.
The people in green came back to check on me and I cheerfully said my goodbyes and walked out of the office with my nose and chin upward-facing.
I almost made it to the elevator.
The walking somehow brought on the knees weakening and the walls blurring, the cold sweats and the pukes again, and I could no longer sustain my own weight. I found a chair in the hallway outside someone's office and sat/collapsed there for a while panting uncontrollably with my head against the wall, trying to make it go away, not understanding what was going on. A nurse walked by and stopped, aghast, when she saw me.
'Are you alright?'
'Yeah..I, Im fiine, I jus.."
'Do you have an appointment somewhere, or did you just come from one?'
'I jus came fro [points] ova theeeeeere... [arm goes limp]'
'Oh, I see. I'm going to go get someone from over there, but I might need to take you down to Emerg. You really don't look so good.'
The nurses came from down the hall, all remarking on how I 'don't look so good', and assuring me that this is the normal reaction from most women who get the procedure. 'Yeah, most of the time they faint just down the hall, right near these desks here...'
I spent the rest of the afternoon eating their cookies, drinking their juice, and reading their magazines in their Aerodynamics waiting room until I was able to walk more than a few feet on my own again. I biked myself home, wrapped myself in a blanket, and bled on the couch for the rest of the live-long day.
Sometimes, having a cervix really sucks. Like yesterday.
Now pity me, and buy me pretty things.