Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Think I might be a hyperchondriac.
That, or I’m just the most sensible fuckbag in the world.
Thinking, if I’m immigrating, best I arrive there on a clean bill of health. Because I’m a little skeptical of the British NHS system, to be honest.
Either way, have decided to go big. I’m not fucking around, even though the dentist scares the bejesus out of me.
I have five medical appointments this week.
1) GP – all over general check up.
2) Dentist. Won’t be able to sleep tonight out of fear. They DRILL SHIT INTO YOUR MOLARS USING SCARY STEEL FORCEP THINGIES.
3) Podiatrist. For those 50 in-soles for my feet I told you about. I might ALSO join a bingo club.
4) Eye doctor. Screen exposure has left me wondering whether I need night vision goggles. The one’s in Silence Of The Lambs. Have no depth perception and tend to drive towards the light. Much like a moth. So if I need spectacles, best they be sexy librarian insane ones.
5) Boob scan. Terrified of getting cancer in my noombies. Runs on father’s side of family and was told by GP this is less genetically contractable than on my mother’s side.
6) Endometrial scan (June.) With fuck off expensive specialist. Have worried for years that I may have endometriosis. My previous doctor’s have alluded to it. Let’s hope he won’t need me to have an op to find out.
So if that\s not an all over once over to see whether my bits are working, I don’t know what is. Might go for mole test as well, especially Sally, the mole that sits between me tits.
Peas: So. Am a little worried about shit. Can I have a mammogram? [contraption that you whack your boob into to check for cancer.]
Doc: No. They only do this for women over 40.
Peas: Crap, ok, how do we check then?
Doc: Ultra sound.
Peas: On my boobs? Don’t pregnant woman get those? Cos the last I knew, my breasts weren’t giving birth.
Peas: Sorry that was a joke.
Doc: They’ll scan them for you at Sunninghill Hospital.
Peas: Great. So. Is there a machine that can basically test everything in my body for cancer?
Peas: Surely there’s got to be some kind of a scan that you can do where it tests every cell of my body for cancerous cells.
Peas: Blood tests?
Doc: For certain cancers, like leukaemia, not breast cancer.
Peas: OK, so what other tests can I do.
Doc: By the sounds of your list, you’ve got them all covered.
Peas: Will I need an op?
Doc: The lacscopomy [sic] in your uterus is your decision, which is why I’m sending you to an endometrial specialist.
Peas: Well aren’t you going to feel my breasts or something?
Doc: No. You’re getting an ultra-sound, so it wouldn’t make a difference.
peas: this mole thing on my cheek. Is it cancerous?
Peas: How would you know that by looking at it?
Doc: It’s shape, texture and colour tell me so. But by all means visit a dermatologist.
Peas: Should I?
Doc: What moles do you have?
Peas: Sally. In between my boobs.
Doc: er…Sally looks fine.
Doc: You really are checking everything aren’t you.
Peas: Just ensuring my machinery ticks over lady.
Peas: Oh I heard you can get a vaccination to stop cervical cancer. I’ll have one of those please.
Doc: That’s recommended for teenage girls who have never had sex. Because once you’re exposed to human papilloma virus, the vaccine doesn’t work.
Peas: I’ll get it anyway.
Doc: Have you had sex before?
Peas: I’m 29.
Doc: Right open your legs. It’s time for your smear.
I am scared. Shouldn’t have watched Grey’s Anatomy last night either. Fail.
PS: But maybe it’s founded. I am learning a lot about cancer at the moment. Because I know a few people – my age and younger – around me that are battling it. It’s made me much more aware of cancer in general, and frankly I’d rather get tested if I can.
Especially if it does run in my family.
On the plus side, surely if they’ve created a vaccine for HPV, then they must be that much closer to slowly but surely curing one cancer at a time? Surely?
PPS: Are we getting to Paris this weekend? This ah scenario is seriously concerning me.