Today I’m talking about cervical screening checks. Because yesterday, I had mine. (Oh, did I mention that I’m an over-sharer?)

Let’s be honest. No woman ever gets excited about having a cervical screen. At least, no woman I’ve ever met. Maybe if they handed out lollypops at the end, (or something more applicable for the area being screened?), we might get more excited, but as things go, rocking up for our scheduled cervical cancer screening is not really one of those things we anticipate with glee. (Or maybe you do. And if so – good for you!)

My OB/GYN – who is now purely my GYN because the OB part of me has shut up shop for good – called me (well, his receptionist did) while I was in Berlin. The call came at some ridiculous hour of the night, so I ignored it, rolled over and went back to sleep, making a note to return the call when I got back to Australia.

I knew that was I was well overdue for a check-up – I’d been thinking I needed to make an appointment and was also a little confused about the new screening procedure and process. It’s changed since my last screening. I knew that pap smears were a thing of the past and that a new cervical screening check had replaced it.

But I didn’t really understand about the change to timeframes or just what the new check was all about. So, I made, and prepared myself for, the appointment.

I’ve known my gynaecologist for a long time now – about seventeen years. He knows diabetes and pregnancy which was why I started seeing him. He was the one who I went to for all my pre-conception care and then he was my OB each time I was pregnant. He has seen me at my absolutely lowest as I dealt with the heartbreak and trauma of recurrent miscarriages. But he also was the one who handed me our daughter the day she was born, so he has seen me at my most elated, too.

This time, I walked in with absolutely no intention of talking about babies, other than mentioning that mine is now fourteen which obviously makes no sense because surely I am still only 36 and I had her when I was three days shy of 31. (This is a lie. No one believes it.) I was there to talk about how hopeless I was because I’d completely neglected thinking about needing a cervical screening check. And have the said check.

There is a reason that I continue to go back to the same doctors for seventeen years. It’s because they don’t judge, and they treat me as though I have a life outside the body part in which they specialise. (Which is good when seeing this particular doctor, because I am more than my vagina.) Before getting to the reason I was there, he asked me how I was and what I was up to. We spoke about the work I was doing. He asked specific questions about my health and asked me how I found the Dexcom that was clearly visible on my upper arm. We started to talk about DIYAPS, and how that was working for me. He wanted to know about my family and how they were, and what sort of a kid the tiny baby he delivered on that day back in November 1998 had become. (She reads a lot more now. And has more sassy opinions.)

Then I mentioned that I had been a little remiss in organising my cervical screening check and started to say how I was usually a lot better at this and that I always, always make sure my diabetes screening was up to date and that I NEVER miss an appointment with my ophthalmologist, but that this one had slipped through the cracks. He didn’t shake his head and tell me to be better. Instead he said, ’It’s great you’re here today. Life is busy and there is a lot going on.’ It may not be healthy to love your gynaecologist, but after that comment I remembered why I had always been so fond of him.

He then explained how the new screening worked, and why the changes were made. He spoke about what was involved today and how long it would take for me to get the results. ‘We call you whatever the result,’ he said and I realised that was a really useful piece of information. If I had a missed call from his rooms in seven to ten days’ time, not knowing that calling everyone was routine, I would have worried that something was wrong until I’d been able to speak to someone.

He started by taking my blood pressure. ‘Is your blood pressure usually okay when you have it checked?’ he asked. ‘Yep. Always fine. Why? Is it high?’ My heart rate was slightly elevated, and I was anxious. (See point above about no one wanting to have this particular screening check.) ‘A little,’ he said. ‘But I know that you’d be anxious about this. It’s nothing to worry about if you have recently had your BP done and it was okay.’ 

I have always appreciated how this doctor, when asking questions, explains why he is asking them. ‘Any changes to your period, bleeding in the middle of your cycle, or bleeding during or after sex?’ He asked, going through what each of these things could mean.

The rest of the examination took all of about 5 minutes. He explained everything that was going on, and I distracted myself during the bit where I had a piece of cold metal inside me by asking about the HPV vaccination.

I’m not sure if that was necessarily the best time to have a conversation about why it’s important to have this vaccine (there’s more about it here, including who the vaccine is for and when they should have it). He told me it protects against the types of HPV that cause around 70% of cervical cancer, as well as other cancers (vaginal, vulval, anal, throat and penile), and protects against genital warts.

We then both had a lot to say about our frustrations with anti-vax lunatics and their anti-science idiocy, and why Pete Evans should be sent to an island (one other than Australia) and left to his paleo devices where he can’t harm anyone else. (Thankfully the cold metal instrument has been removed, and I was covered up by a sheet again by this stage. We were both getting a little ranty and I was waving my hands around; being completely exposed could have made that awkward…)

When I was dressed and sitting opposite him again, he asked if I had any questions. I had a few, and he answered them clearly. I mentioned again that I would make sure that I had future checks as scheduled and he suggested I be less hard on myself.

He’s right, of course. Diabetes alone puts so much pressure on us – as well as all the screening we need to keep on  top of there is the daily stuff too. (I love that he understands diabetes and realises just what it takes to deal with it.) Add to it the other things we need to stay on top of – such as screening of our lady bits – and it’s no wonder that sometimes something will slip through to the keeper.

And of course, there are a number of other reasons that we delay or postpone having this particular check done. For some women, there can concern or embarrassment. Even if we know that the actual procedure takes only minutes, it’s not especially comfortable. And then there are concerns about the state of our lady garden. According to a 2018 survey by a British cancer charity, a third of women won’t make an appointment for a cervical screening if they haven’t waxed or shaved their pubic area, and are embarrassed about how their vulva looks. I could scoff and say how ridiculously shallow, but you bet that I have had that concern too.

I know that this, as with all screenings, is important because early detection of any changes means early treatment and that is always the best approach. And so, I’m trying to stop beating myself up for the fact that I was overdue getting this done and instead pat myself on the back for actually having made and kept the appointment. I’ve done my bit. I now wait for the results and then take it from there.

More information about cervical cancer screening here.

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