Look after your nunu (or whatever else you call it)
“So, do you do many of these a day?”
There I was, legs akimbo, arse stuck to blue roll, casually trying to make chitter chatter with the nice nurse who was just about to enter me (and she hadn’t even bought me lunch).
I was about to have my first cervical screening at the later age of 31. The NHS advises you start having regular screenings from the age of 25, but like a large percentage of my gender having something inserted into your lady nunu on your lunch break is way down on the “to-do” list.
I’ll put my hands up, and this may come as a shock, but I am no virgin. So the thought of having something speculum shaped placed inside me was not going to come as a shock.
What did come as a shock to me, was why it had taken me 6 years to get here, and became the basis of this piece of writing.
Why do we worry so much?
Well, I haven’t even got my ears pierced, never been tattooed and would moan when taking plasters off. I do not seek it. So was it painful? No. Not at all. To be honest, I imagined it was going to be a lot worse. Uncomfortable, potentially, but pain, no. There is a little pressure, and if like most of us, you are not exactly in the “mood” in a brightly lit bed staring at a wall, it might be a bit, well, difficult to get going.
No matter how many times you think of Jason Momoa and his man bun being down there, your self-lubrication might not kick in as fast as usual when something is wangling its way towards your lady bits.
Is it shame?
I am putting my £10 bet on this one. And I don’t know why. Since time began, us ladies have had to get to know our vaginas pretty darn fast. Whether it be first periods, first lady wanks, first fucks or pushing-a-human-life-through-it, it has been there, we have felt it, and we know what goes on.
We trim it, wax it, grow a full bush on top of it. We let partners touch it, lick it, and we spend £50+ at Ann Summers to give us Funday Sunday. We potter around on the beach with tiny bits of cloth over it.
So, where in society have we got the blushes about a 5 min procedure that could save our lives. The answer is, I don’t know.
I can’t stress enough A) how god damn important it is. B) how, honestly, trust me, it isn’t as bad as you think.
When I see articles like Numbers attending cervical screening hits the lowest level in twelve years, I do a little life cry. It could save your life, and all you are giving in return is a little bit of blue roll stuck to your arse and a nice chat with a nurse.
Please let someone tickle your cervix. It could save your life.
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