disposable undies are seriously comfortable

Late last year I had my annual physical. During that physical, my doctor inspected me and did the usual 'lady-part' testing. When the results came back, it indicated something funky was going on with my cervix. It happens, but to be sure, she ordered me to come back for another lovely lady-part test. No problem, happens to lots of chicks! Round two results: yep, something funky is definitely happening with my cervix. So I waited about a month for a referral from a specialized clinic in Ottawa to call me with an appointment to get a better picture of what exactly was going on.

(Try not to read too much into it. It's probably nothing. It could be cancer. Cancer? Really? I'm a basically healthy 26 year old. Should I have eaten more spinach? What if I can't have kids? I've never faced myself for that reality before. Cancer can't happen to me. Cancer is not what's going on here. I should probably prepare though just in case. Let's just wait until I get the appointment and stop jumping to conclusions. Oh my god. I'm not invincible.)

These were some of the thoughts that ran through my head almost every day until finally I arrived at the clinic (with my mom of course) to hopefully confirm that it really was nothing at all. We parked, traveled through the maze of hallways in the hospital until I reached the door that read 'Dysplasia Clinic- Patients only' Sorry mom, I'll meet you in the waiting room when I'm done. Thank God I wore my big girl pants today.

I checked in and was given TWO of those beauty hospital gowns to change into (wear one tied at the back then the other one like a robe, so cute).  Also, I got a sweet pair of disposable undies. Really, not being sarcastic, these were probably the most comfortable underwear I've ever worn. Where can I buy a box?

Anyways, I wasn't waiting long when I was called in to the room with the nurse and doctor who would be performing the colposcopy (a very cool procedure where you get to see your cervix on a big screen TV). Deep breath. Omg is that my CERVIX? It looks like a round slimy tongue. Gross. Cool. Hmm I just finished my online Medical Terminology course, I wonder if I can throw out any impressive terms? .... Nah I got nothing. Wait, what's that patch of white?

updating a good friend after the colposcopy

The doctor (who was very down to earth and made me feel super comfortable) poked this white patch of cells with a Q-tip so I could see exactly what was causing my abnormal test results. Luckily, the patch was small, she wouldn't have to biopsy, and she could spot treat it with little to no side effects. At the start of the day I was wearing my big girl pants, then changed into disposable undies but let me tell you, it really didn't matter what I was wearing right then because I was invincible once more! That second hospital gown I was wearing as a robe suddenly looked more like a cape. I may, or may not have, done a super hero pose as I was changing back into my normal clothes.

The point of this story? An article was brought to my attention that everyone in Ontario will have to start paying for their annual physicals, saving Ontario about $29 million. Starting January 2013. Ya, two months ago. You can read the article in the Ottawa Sun here.

Now, I know I had a little close call that turned out to be nothing but I think about the people who can't afford an annual physical or those who are just plain discouraged and don't want to pay to sit and wait for an hour in their doctors offices just to be told, 'you're fine'. To me, having peace of mind is something I'm willing to pay for but I'm pretty sure I already was in my taxes? I thought preventative measures are people's best chance at living a longer, healthier life? (thus paying more in taxes)

I wanted to share my story with you to bring attention on what could affect decisions about your health in Ontario. I hope you take the time to vote, the time to take your health seriously even if you're young and invincible, and the time to eat more spinach.

Stay cozy,

Alyssa

What's your TRUE Canadian Name?

I decided to create this little chart to help you figure out your Canadian name. Combine your birth month and the date you were born to get your true Canuck colours.
Share with friends and comment below so we can all enjoy the cheese!
P.s. I'm a Moonshine Goose!

sad is bad but plaid is badass

This past week I got pelted in the face during our rec-league dodgeball game. Thankfully, I had already been hit out by another ball so I had the luxury of sauntering off to the sidelines until I could see out of my right eyeball. This is not the first time it's happened, and anyone who's played the sport knows that it's what you sign up for. I also managed to slip on ice while walking the dog warranting a pretty blue bruise I wear like a ribbon on my knee. And that cut you see on my lip is not herpes, it's from biting it during a violent dream. Seriously, in my sleep.

Lately it also seems I've been emotionally drained. Just when I think I've finally gained control of my mood, some small 'crisis' happens and I have a meltdown as if they just canceled all current and future seasons of The Bachelor. yikes. And no, gentlemen, I'm not PMSing.

Mavis is angry

I'm a klutz on any normal day but I honestly feel like my inside is matching my outside. Battered and bruised. C'mon though, I know I'm not alone.

Now, living in Ottawa during the winter is going to come with it's own set of obstacles, frozen fingers and toes, cars that don't start and a Facebook newsfeed reminding you how cold it is and to also shut up about how cold it is. These things are shitty. Shitty, but bearable. What's a little harder to navigate is something called the 'winter blues', medically known as S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder). Basically, in an acorn shell, you get damn depressed. That's it, I'm self-diagnosing this.

So how does one overcome such sadness?

I google'd this and wasn't surprised by the 'home remedies' suggested to cure S.A.D. Eat better, exercise, take a vacation blah blah bloppity blah. ah boom blop bah boom ah blop boom bah!

Sorry, got carried away there. But honestly, how boring. Let's go drink Earl Grey tea and sit in the parlor cracking algebra jokes.

Why can't there be any fun cures? You never read 'roll down a hill with your friends then have a cheese curd eating contest (RIP St. Alberts) in the treatment section of WebMD.  Or rotisserie a pie over an open fire then share stories with the hobos who let you borrow their flaming trash can to begin with. I'm pretty sure that would cure my winter blues.

Point being, I think those boring 'cures' (or routines) for some, are what might have landed us in this gosh diggly mess in the first place. It may take some time for my cuts to heal but I'm already feeling better thinking about which one of my friends would win the cheese eating contest, or which story I would tell to try and shock a hobo.

And since I'm already life's personal punching bag this week:
Slap me with some crazy and creative ideas of what you would do to get out of your winter tire rut. And it better not involve tea.