or a lot even. I have to confess that my 'one' bar of chocolate yesterday has evolved in to another (bigger) one today plus an entire Easter Egg. Yes I have lost it. I am back in binge mode and quite honestly could stuff another seven down my throat, but thankfully my dignity (what last few scraps I have remaining) has pulled me back. Moderation never was my strong point.
Easter always brings back memories of childhood and more specifically eating myself to the point of reflux vomiting. As children we probably got six or seven different eggs and you could almost guarantee that by Sunday Lunchtime I had eaten the majority of mine. Corrinna on the other hand would slowly savour hers, eating a gram at a time for the next six months, which was often more temptation than I could bear. I also remember my Dad coming over one Christmas around midday and me greeting him with something along the lines of "I feel si............." by which time I had covered the carpet in regurgitated Quality Street. What a little piglet. In hinesight this weight issue of mine was pretty inevitable. I have always been a comfort eater.
Which probably explains my need for chocolate just now. Obviously things haven't been going so well relationship wise and to add to that pressure I also have the looming dread of an appointment with the GP's surgery for possibly the nastiest procedure known to woman. During my life I have had many painful and traumatic experiences; breaks, sprains, infections, endoscopies, barium enemas, major surgery, labours and a few fist fights in between but nothing compares to the disgusting, degrading and highly uncomfortable invasion which is the smear test. I could cry just thinking about it.
To make it worse this is a call back. Usually you only have it every three years but in some evil twist of fate I am having it repeated because the results last time were dubious. Quite frankly the whole blinking experience is dubious in my mind. Being asked to undress to the waist, lay down with legs spread, RELAX (yeah like that's ever going to happen), and willingly allow a ferocious looking pair of cold metal prongs in is simply gross. Then comes the spatula to swipe at your cervix and rip a few cells off, all the time with the nurse telling you that it shouldn't hurt. Well shouldn't means nothing if it actually does. Seriously I was sliding so far up the bed last time I nearly reached the ceiling. I can't explain what a nasty, intrusive, abnormal pain it is. Surely if God had wanted my cervix to be looked at he'd have left it hanging out.
Oh my gosh I think I may be sick just thinking about it.
Time for another egg perhaps. x
Not a Binge, just a detour. Done now.
ReplyDeleteAs for the smear, no nurse worth her salt should ever tell another person what will or will not hurt....pain is totally subjective. So Rule One...Tell her that. Rule Two...the pain-gate theory...when I have dental work done I totally focus on the part of me furthest from my mouth, I imagine a foot massage, manicure and nails painted in patterns, all in detail. It does help. I do the same when having a smear. I also remind myself that, horrible as it is, it is NOT as bad as any treatment I would need if I DID have cancer so it is absolutely the best option. That does feel like a kind of relief. I had a cervical biopsy taken years ago, the doctor doing it (unfortunately very young and handsome) said it was a "painless procedure". It FELT like a crocodile had bitten a chunk out ! I told him ,very firmly, never to try to reassure anyone by blagging. He has no cervix, how on earth could he EVER understand ? Cervical smear taking is not pleasant, but it IS bearable. Relax and think of your toes !