Spotting in my knickers turned out to be cervical cancer - at age 22 This is why having that smear test is so vital Megan* was diagnosed with cervical cancer four years ago when she was just 22 – three years before she was due to be invited for her first cervical screening. When she read our 'Face the smear' feature in April's issue, she felt compelled to encourage other Cosmo readers to take the plunge. Here, she tells her story… My symptoms started when I was 18, when I was spotting between periods and after sex. I was diagnosed with cervical erosion – harmless changes in the cells around the opening of the cervix. That, I thought, was that. Then, aged 22, I had a strong feeling something was wrong and went to see my doctor again. I asked for a smear test, even though I was below the recommended age, and was eventually offered a colposcopy, where a microscope is used to look for any abnormal cells on your cervix. At my appointment, the nurse noticed something she said was "a little strange," and took a biopsy. She didn't seem worried, so I wasn't either. Three days later, I had a voicemail from the gynae unit where I'd had my biopsy: "Can you call us back?" "Oh shit," I thought. It had to be bad news, but I couldn't get through until the next morning. "Can you come in today?" they asked. I thought it was serious, but cancer didn't cross my mind. WHY WOULD IT? I WAS ONLY 22. In the waiting room with Mum, I counted down the minutes to my appointment. I was just two weeks out of a six- year relationship, and had been excited about nights out with the girls as a singleton, but now I wondered how different my life was about to become. Eventually, the consultant appeared. When I sat down, leaving Mum outside, he asked me about why I'd wanted to have some tests. I answered his questions, then he shuffled his papers and said softly but firmly, "You have clear-cell cervical cancer." He kept talking, but I didn't hear anything else. I felt like a tonne of bricks had landed on me. Then the tears started – and didn't stop. When Mum walked in I told her, "Mum, I've got cancer." We just held each other and sobbed. I wasn't sure how much time had passed when I stopped crying. But it was like a switch had been flicked, and I went from feeling sorry for myself to thinking, "Right, let's get this thing out of me." I was told I'd need to have the cancer cut from my cervix that same day. If they got it all, I might not need further treatment – such as a hysterectomy or chemo – but they'd only know once the procedure had been done. I wanted to be able to have kids and didn't want to lose my hair – but I didn't want cancer either. After the operation, I had an MRI scan and X-ray, which would show whether the cancer had spread. The week-long wait for my results was horrendous. I wondered if Continue reading VIA http://snowbooks.ml/forum2_theme_112897605.xhtml?tema=7&get-tema=7

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