the world does not revolve around you

It doesn't revolve around me either, mind, but at the moment (lack of sleep and drop in positivity likely to blame) it certainly feels like it. In a way, it does. I have no significant other in my life, therefore my life DOES revolve around me.

Follows on from my 1am post. I am still on this train of thought. Please disregard if you like.

Let me tell you a story about how I nearly attacked Control Freak this morning.

After I flipped out at work, Control Freak took me aside for a “quiet chat” in a break out room. She was saying all about how young I am and how healthy and how everything would all be fine. Inside my head my inner voice was working overtime: “blah blah blah, what the hell do you know?! Have you seen my results? Have you taken a microscope and looked up my [insert your own choice of word]? Have you hacked at my donut with a wire loop??! NO!!!!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!!”

Nobody knows. Apart from the (minimum of three) cytologists who examined my cone tissue, the admin staff who printed out the diagnosis letter (well, it wouldn't have been done by a doctor) and possibly my consultant.

I understand what she is trying to do, but trust me, it really doesn't work. I just keep thinking about all the reassurances that I have been given in the past BY QUALIFIED and knowledgeable health practionners (and they got it wrong, so what the hell does Control Freak really know?!). The reassurance thing is really hard to deal with. Part of me feels so angry with the doctors for telling me it was all going to be ok because statistically I am “low risk”. But, by the same token, they do have a duty to not worry patients unduly, and quoting these figures is part of that because the figures are absolutely right - it really is unlikely. For those that it does happen to, it really is just a case of being in the wrong percentage bracket and bad luck. A lot of the time, the doctors probably could not have predicted what the outcome was going to be.

Back to Control Freak. To make matters worse, she then said “if it makes you feel any better, I have abnormal cells and they are thinking of bringing me in for a colposcopy."

I could have battered her to death on the spot!!!! Firstly for taking my fears and turning the topic to be about her when I was the one sitting there picking a tissue to shreds. Secondly, for dismissing it (all she had to do was flick her wrist). Thirdly for saying “they are thinking of taking me in." Either they do get you in for a colposcopy and they get you in quickly, or they don’t!!! I asked her what grade her dyskaryosis was and she just looked at me blankly. It made me so mad! Nearly as mad as when I told her the diagnosis in the first place and her response was "oh, that's terrible. You will be alright." [pause] "My boyfriend and I are rowing loads at the moment over blah blah blah..."