6d
Bright grey clouds woke me and the dread for the day seeped in.
Probably better to get up but pinned down by half thoughts.
I had to wait a month for this day. The day they take chunks out of my ****** to test it for abnormalities.
Yeah, alright I wasn’t dying to get out of bed?
Life and the living did win eventually. I rolled over and after a load of laundry and some grumbling I actually did make it to service first auto.
Walking thru that door made my troubles disappear. Papers piled up. Half a sandwich. Birthday card from 2023. And one eyed Don!
He looked at me, “Subaru?” “Yeah! How are you!?” He didn’t match my morning enthusiasm. “I’m OK.” His mechanic walked in, deadpan, he said, “I’m going to get a coffee.” “Okay.”
What I would give some days to be a blue collar man.
Trying not to look at his glazed over eye, I blabbered about my brief check engine scare. How it could be the head gaskies but I want to try and go longer. Bare minimum please. But yeah it’s burning coolant. Don grumbled, “Yeah, yeah we’ll do what we do and give you a call.” Thanks!
Next stop: Nat’s. My friend going through the same cervical trauma as me offered to join me to my appointment.
We chatted. Made horrific jokes. “Yeah eventually I just came to terms with the fact that I would be that one friend with cancer.” I talked about my Thicc Thighs Save Lives vision. A bike group where the two cs in thicc stood for cervical cancer.
She helped take my mind off the speculum and the pliers and the blood and the stirrups and the silver nitrate of my future.
We discussed the unnecessary shame we felt. Vented about men and how it's some serious ******* HPV doesn't affect them but they can transmit it?
And how they can sleep with whoever they want, but it’s promiscuous when we do? And at the end of the day it’s simply bad luck. Bad luck.
I did finally make it to the room. Waiting in the chair, my eyes traced its edges and fell on the labeled drawers. Loop electrode. Colposcope. Pads. Curette. I wasn’t as scared as I expected to be.
They gave me a hot pad for my ******, opened me up, numbed the area, and at one point I saw a tiny bright red piece of my ****** in between the pliers.
That little speck of precancerous ridden flesh! Why was it kind of cute? I thought fondly of it. Off to testing you go, sweet thing. Make mama proud.
“Nothing in your ****** for 3 days!” “Okay.” Too bad I’m a drug mule. Why don't I just say the intrusive thoughts?
The nurse asked, “What are you going to do to treat yourself after this?” Well it ended up being a 16oz mocha immediately followed by a pint of beer. I mean why not blast myself with my two favorite substances back to back on an empty stomach?
Maybe the caffeine will make the dysplasia dance. Make the lesion listen. Listen when I say: LEAVE. Get out of my body.
Next stop: picking up my car. Don looked at me with the eye that worked, threw the keys at me, and demanded $750 dollars. “Still keep an eye on the coolant and oil.” “Okay.” Just one though.
5 hours in the shop made my car smell like a bowling alley. Stale marlboro coming straight through the vents. It was comforting. I thought: these are the best parts of life.
I was home for a bit and then came the wind. Sideways rain, swinging bird feeders, sirens, wind chimes, branches everywhere and then black. Power out.
I felt revitalized...energized: I breathed the chaos of the storm straight inside me. Gulping each gust in real time.
It felt right. Metaphorical. Storms happen, storms stir **** up, storms pass. Storms pass! Storms stir **** up! They just happen.
My neighbor and I leaned over our balconies and cooed about the storm. He couldn't wait to light ten thousand candles.
With only one singular candle myself, I fled back to Nat’s. We gave each other massages, laughed, and on my drive back there was a man dancing in the middle of the crosswalk.
Stop lights are out, rain still coming down, it’s pitch dark and his hands are in the air.. no care in the world just dancing. I think that man is me. He’s the inner joy I felt today and crave to always feel.
Probably better to get up but pinned down by half thoughts.
I had to wait a month for this day. The day they take chunks out of my ****** to test it for abnormalities.
Yeah, alright I wasn’t dying to get out of bed?
Life and the living did win eventually. I rolled over and after a load of laundry and some grumbling I actually did make it to service first auto.
Walking thru that door made my troubles disappear. Papers piled up. Half a sandwich. Birthday card from 2023. And one eyed Don!
He looked at me, “Subaru?” “Yeah! How are you!?” He didn’t match my morning enthusiasm. “I’m OK.” His mechanic walked in, deadpan, he said, “I’m going to get a coffee.” “Okay.”
What I would give some days to be a blue collar man.
Trying not to look at his glazed over eye, I blabbered about my brief check engine scare. How it could be the head gaskies but I want to try and go longer. Bare minimum please. But yeah it’s burning coolant. Don grumbled, “Yeah, yeah we’ll do what we do and give you a call.” Thanks!
Next stop: Nat’s. My friend going through the same cervical trauma as me offered to join me to my appointment.
We chatted. Made horrific jokes. “Yeah eventually I just came to terms with the fact that I would be that one friend with cancer.” I talked about my Thicc Thighs Save Lives vision. A bike group where the two cs in thicc stood for cervical cancer.
She helped take my mind off the speculum and the pliers and the blood and the stirrups and the silver nitrate of my future.
We discussed the unnecessary shame we felt. Vented about men and how it's some serious ******* HPV doesn't affect them but they can transmit it?
And how they can sleep with whoever they want, but it’s promiscuous when we do? And at the end of the day it’s simply bad luck. Bad luck.
I did finally make it to the room. Waiting in the chair, my eyes traced its edges and fell on the labeled drawers. Loop electrode. Colposcope. Pads. Curette. I wasn’t as scared as I expected to be.
They gave me a hot pad for my ******, opened me up, numbed the area, and at one point I saw a tiny bright red piece of my ****** in between the pliers.
That little speck of precancerous ridden flesh! Why was it kind of cute? I thought fondly of it. Off to testing you go, sweet thing. Make mama proud.
“Nothing in your ****** for 3 days!” “Okay.” Too bad I’m a drug mule. Why don't I just say the intrusive thoughts?
The nurse asked, “What are you going to do to treat yourself after this?” Well it ended up being a 16oz mocha immediately followed by a pint of beer. I mean why not blast myself with my two favorite substances back to back on an empty stomach?
Maybe the caffeine will make the dysplasia dance. Make the lesion listen. Listen when I say: LEAVE. Get out of my body.
Next stop: picking up my car. Don looked at me with the eye that worked, threw the keys at me, and demanded $750 dollars. “Still keep an eye on the coolant and oil.” “Okay.” Just one though.
5 hours in the shop made my car smell like a bowling alley. Stale marlboro coming straight through the vents. It was comforting. I thought: these are the best parts of life.
I was home for a bit and then came the wind. Sideways rain, swinging bird feeders, sirens, wind chimes, branches everywhere and then black. Power out.
I felt revitalized...energized: I breathed the chaos of the storm straight inside me. Gulping each gust in real time.
It felt right. Metaphorical. Storms happen, storms stir **** up, storms pass. Storms pass! Storms stir **** up! They just happen.
My neighbor and I leaned over our balconies and cooed about the storm. He couldn't wait to light ten thousand candles.
With only one singular candle myself, I fled back to Nat’s. We gave each other massages, laughed, and on my drive back there was a man dancing in the middle of the crosswalk.
Stop lights are out, rain still coming down, it’s pitch dark and his hands are in the air.. no care in the world just dancing. I think that man is me. He’s the inner joy I felt today and crave to always feel.
I did give a polite honk at him. A double meaning honk. Like I fully support this living going on but I do want you to continue to live. Hahahaha.
