I had my annual last week. You know, the typical yucky girl stuff. And surprise of all surprises, she said "have you thought about losing weight?". Uh. Yeah. I've thought about it, and have been going to meetings for the better part of two months. Not that she would know this because all she sees is that haven't lost a damn thing in the past year. She didn't see the (slight, 2 pound) gain, or the losses. Just that I'm pretty much the same as last year. At the rate I'm going (about 1/4 pound average in 12 months)... I will be at goal in oh, about 99 years. No, scratch that. I'll be at goal...sometime after never?
Time to get serious. Oh, wait. Already getting there.
I have a few friends who struggle the same way I do, but until I open my mouth and talk about it (or, in this case, write about it), I have no idea that I'm normal. I always think my problems are so unique and special. They're not. A lot of us have the same insecurities and ways of dealing with things. I choose to eat or shop. I don't get many compliments these days, so buying pretty shiny new things is my way of getting some sort of positive attention. I know this. If I'm not getting the positive attention, I think I suck. And when I think I suck, like this past week where I had a glut of epic failures at work, I ate peeps to numb those negative feelings. Peeps are delicious, but they do not have magic powers to fix my problems. Yet, I turn to them every flipping time.
Anyway... The results of my appointment were posted today online. I have hpv. And my husband, when I told him, started bawling. I thought he was kidding, and I was laughing hysterically. He started projectile tears, and I knew he was serious. He thinks he gave me this horrible thing, but in truth, I may have given it to him. I had my first hpv test about 4 years ago, and it was negative. This one came back positive. What does this mean? Right now? Not a heck of a lot. I have to go back to the gyno in 6 months for a followup, and then who knows? So... I now get to worry about both ass and cooch cancer. How lucky am I? Eh... I'm okay with it. I'm not stressed or upset over either, but the husband? He's devastated. Not sure why, because in both cases, we will keep an eye on it and do what we can to keep it from going anywhere. I'm lucky because both types of cancer are very treatable when detected in the early stages, and I actually feel pretty lucky about that.
It's all about perspective. And right now, mine is pretty good, all things considered.
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