Okay, here comes an emotional swing. I have had this stuck in my back pocket since I was diagnosed and haven't taken it out, well in public anyway. I'll get asked in mixed company how I am doing, some won't know about my diagnosis and they will ask, out of curiosity and I am all about sharing information. When you tell people (specially males) that your cancer is cervical cancer, the air gets a little cooler, a little more distance grows and the unspoken definition of how a women gets cervical cancer hangs above waiting to drop like a dirty dirty bomb. Cervical cancer is the Dirty Cancer. You get it from sex. So, me being me I sometimes want to say "Oh, I have that slutty cancer." If you know me, there is so much irony in that sentence. I have only had sex with one man. Ever. And the last time that happened was twelve years ago. You can go and read that sentence again. We lived together, bought a house. Then he left in fabulous douchebag fashion and last September on a routine gynecological visit (meaning I had been having them every year) I was tested positive for HPV and had my first abnormal PAP in those twelve years. How did I never test positive all those years? (I am a freak of nature naturally, so anything goes) My wonderfully kind and sweet gynecologist (who, to my devastation has decided to retire) also informed me that women who take birth control for extended periods of time without ever having children are also likely to have cervical cancer. I had to take birth control for other reasons, say for having such treacherous periods that I couldn't leave the house for weeks at a time, you know those reasons. So, the one two punch. Cancer from ever deigning to have sex, and then from not having enough of it.
Am I mad at ever deciding to be in a relationship, to ever have sex ever? Men don't have a test for HPV so most just go around willy nilly with no signs and we females end up with the majority of the life threatening consequences. Is the best way to just wrap yourself in cellophane and never have sex again? If I ever see Neil again will I punch him in the penis? Or do I just feel rage at the universe for giving me the kind of immune system that would hold onto a virus that any other human would have discarded after three years? Do I hold up my fists and shake shake shake them because my uterus was never a fit candidate for children to start and I had to take medicine to keep me from bleeding so much every month that I could operate as a relatively normal human being?
No. It was how it was. It is how it is. It will be how it will be.
Will there be a penis punch in the future? Anything is possible.