Just as I was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, the tunnel called "Worst Cold Slash Sore Throat Thing Ever", Chris started feeling ill. I'm going to be totally honest with you here, at first I just thought he was being a pansy. A day later, I realized that he was legitimately ill; iller than I had been, iller than the grammar in this very sentence. Did I have sympathy for him then? Well, a little. Like, half of a micrometer of sympathy. When he came back from the doctor and said that he had an abscess the size of a golf ball, I felt a twinge of guilt for minimizing his illness. I also felt extremely jealous that he went and upstaged me! Oh yeah? Well, well, I was sick AND pregnant, take that! Oh, you had to have five shots and four people trying to drain your lanced abscess? Well, you didn't have morning sickness!
The same day that Chris had his follow-up appointment, I had my appointment for the dreaded colposcopy. The whole thing was frightening, invasive, and really uncomfortable. I tried turning my head to one side during the procedure, but I could see the reflection of the nurse handing a scary metal medieval torture device to the doctor, so I turned the other way and squeezed my eyes shut. Halfway through the procedure, Dr. Jacome popped his head up over the paper sheet resting over my knees and said to me, "Oh, and no sex after this," as casually as if he were telling me not to wear white after labor day. "No sex for at least a week. Actually, you're going to have to be very careful having sex for the rest of your pregancy. If you're not very careful, you could start bleeding..." and as the doctor kept talking about what complications could arise, I only half-listened. It was really hard to hear the doctor because the voices in my head were screaming at him. WELL, WHAT THE HELL ELSE, DOC? Should I stay away from ice cream? Are you going to tell me that Target is hazardous to my healh, too? ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE AWAY EVERYTHING? And oh my god, I finally started feeling sympathetic for Chris.
As soon as they were done, the doctor told me to sit up. I got about halfway to vertical when I blacked out and went back down. I opened my eyes a second later but I couldn't see straight and Dr. Jacome sounded like he was talking to me underwater. He made sure I was ok, then told me to lie down until the faintness passed. I didn't want to be half-naked in that cold, clinical room any longer than I had to be, so I did my best to pull it together. Admittedly, it took a good five minutes before I could sit up, and I was shaking as I got dressed. I checked my reflection in the mirror- no color in my face whatsoever, and beads of sweat all over my forehead. Thank god Chris was there, he practically had to drag me out to the car. I spent the rest of the day on the couch, feeling extremely naseated, weak, sore, and crampy. Now I just have to wait for the biopsy results.
On the bright side, I think I might have won the sick-off. Yipee. Ah, the Threat Of Cervical Cancer, my Ace in the Hole. (Pun very intended.)