So, I’ve been a bit reluctant to share about this. There are very few people in my life that know the whole story, but I woke up today feeling like I needed to discuss it, so here goes nothing.

In April of ’14, I moved in with B about an hour away from where I grew up. When Fall came around and things had settled down from the move, I decided it was time to get my act together. I needed to get a new set of doctors closer to our new house. I got recommendations, made a  few calls to my insurance, and set up appointments with a dentist, optometrist, and OB/GYN for yearly checkups.

In November of ’14 I had that yearly appointment all ladies look forward to, an ever-so-pleasant pap smear as part of my dreaded annual exam with my new gyno. I remember being caught off guard because my new gyno was male, and there was a female nurse in the room with me (I guess it’s a liability thing). Great, two complete strangers all up in my hoo-hah. Let’s get this over with, I’ve gotta get to work. They did their thing, and off I went to work. They’d call me soon with the results, they say.

If memory serves me, I got a voicemail from that new gyno a week or so later asking me to call back at my earliest convenience. My pap smear results were concerning, he said, in a tone that was somehow simultaneously both calm and urgent. After a very scary subsequent phone call, they explained that the cells they swabbed in the pap smear looked “a little funny”, and they wanted me to come in for a colposcopy ASAP . A colposcopy, I later learned, is when they essentially hole-punch your cervix to take a closer look at the tissue. (I’m actually glad I didn’t find this out until after the procedure). It was super painful, not gonna lie. At this point, my OB explained to me that he was out of his area of expertise, and he was essentially elevating my case to someone who knew more. He referred me to a very nice nurse who became the liaison between my old doctor and my new oncologist. At this point, the “C” word had not ever been mentioned to me, but I knew it was looming.

I was 26 years old. How was this even possible?

The Colposcopy was done just a few weeks after the Pap, and the results concerned the doctors even more. The dysplasia (cell changes) had worsened significantly in that very short amount of time. They wanted to schedule a LEAP procedure after the holidays. The LEAP is an outpatient surgery where, under anesthesia, they burn the cancerous cells, hopefully eliminating their ability to spread. The doctors felt confident that nothing major would happen in the month or so we had to wait for the surgery. So, we scheduled it for Mid January. Christmas and my 27th birthday passed, and, as if the timing could be any worse, B began travelling a lot again for work. He was away for much of that winter. Looking back, I don’t know if I could have gotten through it without my siblings. They were right by my side when I woke up, right there even when others said they were coming and didn’t show, and still others tried to minimize what I was going through by saying it was “just a scare.” (I may still be a tad resentful.)

Anywho, in Mid-January of ’15 I had the LEAP procedure. This was done by my wonderful, original OB, who had first detected the dysplasia. Prior to this, the only times I had ever really seen a doctor were for routine check ups and common illnesses. I had never even broken a bone! It was incredibly scary, to say the least. I remember a very quick-talking anesthesiologist coming in , verifying my identity several times, and then waiting for what seemed like forever. My brother and sister were there with me, and got to witness my (I’m sure) very comical transition to sleepy-time, and wheel-back to the operating room. I woke up what felt like 10 minutes, but was actually a few hours later (so strange) in the recovery room. Looking at the EOB later, I can’t BELIEVE what that cost. For what insurance paid, I should have been spoonfed caviar-encrusted lobster while Beyonce fanned me with palm fronds and Ryan Gosling whispered sweet nothings into my ear until I regained consciousness.

Nevertheless, the very friendly nurse made small talk with me and covered me in one of those crunchy-aluminum blankets runners bundle up with after they finish a marathon. I kept it, those things are pretty sweet.

Recovery from that procedure was about a month from what I remember, and involved some bleeding and other unpleasantness, but was mostly OK. I just wanted my cells to be back to normal. At this point the C word had STILL never been directly said to my face. Somebody dropped the ball, somewhere, I think.

Regardless, about 6 weeks later, I met with my new Oncologist. She was fabulous and smiling and, I later discovered, helped found and run the women’s center at a local hospital. She has won a bunch of awards and has a wait-list to prove it. Somehow, I avoided that list. I was in good hands.

She did a pap smear and asked me what I knew about why I was there. She asked me about my plans for the future, whether I was in a relationship, whether I wanted kids, and THAT’s when she said it. You have Cancer. Stage IA1, which meant it was early and fairly small.  They think they got it all with the LEAP but they wouldn’t call me cancer free until 5 YEARS has gone by. 5 YEARS? That felt like forever. She told me that normally, they’d recommend a hysterectomy, but because I still wanted to try for biological children, they would just keep a close watch on me and we could discuss the hysterectomy whenever I’m done with having kids. This was all too much. I felt like the room was spinning, I got really hot and sweaty, and I burst into tears. I was now 27 years old, how could this be? After feeling sorry for myself for a few minutes, and calling my boss to take the day off work, (I’d explain later, I said). I opened the door, and the doctor and her nurse came back in. They explained that instead of having pap smears every year, I would have them every few months to make sure there wasn’t any further dysplasia and that it hadn’t traveled elsewhere.

Today, it’s been just over a year since the LEAP and (thank God!) all my paps have been normal. 1 year down, 4 to go! Cancer has definitely forced me to think more about how I’m treating my body, and I’ve tried to be more mindful about what I’m putting into it. I’ve also tried  to be more conscious of the chemicals I’m around. Small changes can make a big difference. I now try to clean the house with vinegar and other natural cleaners, when possible. I threw out all those plug-ins I had around the house, and use essential oils to freshen the air, instead. I’ve always exercised, but I now do more yoga and meditation when I’m feeling anxious (often an unfortunate side effect of the c word, I’ve learned).

I have also learned some valuable life lessons in the past year. First off, the people that you thought would or should support you might not be the ones that actually step up. People don’t know how to help or what you need, and some just deal with it by not dealing with it. Don’t be afraid to speak up if and when you need something (this is hard for me).

We can’t expect others to just know how we feel.

If you have time off work and you need to, take it. Pay attention to your body. For a while, I was worried that every little ailment I had was somehow connected to the cancer. It wasn’t, but it was scary. Your mind can and will take you to weird places. Allow yourself to feel every feeling you have. Accept them. They are ALL ok, but try not to dwell. Dwelling does not serve you in any way. Appreciate your life…you only get one. I’m not trying to be dramatic, I’m very fortunate that they caught it early and addressed it, but I can’t pretend I haven’t sat and “what if-ed” for a while. Keep up with your doctor’s appointments, early detection is SO important.

Life is so precious and I feel fortunate for the people I have and the lessons I’ve learned. I have great doctors and a wonderful support system, and I’ve become stronger physically and mentally because of this experience. It never hurts to eat some Superfoods once in awhile, too, which is what I did today. Recipes to follow.