Let's talk about Sex..

Let’s talk about sex...

Ha..always a good one. Now, once upon a time my sister was desperate to get the “Now 20” tape for Christmas. Remember those? I do. So of course her wish was granted and Santa measured up to expectations. Joy! Music in the car on the way down South from the annual Christmas gathering in Leeds that wasn’t an random combo of Cream and Kylie (no offence). No. We had Now 20! And all was jolly and good until we got to tape 2 side 2. (for the young, we had tapes, one was obliged to eject and change sides, especially in a Ford). I digress…. 

Tape 2 was a revelation- two songs with the “s” word in them that instantly turned my farther into a spluttering madness who had to stop the car at Fleet Service stations and put on a bit of Peter Gabriel for safety. Oh yes..

However, the fuel gauge was an excuse that was never going to last and thus he couldn’t stop off when the time suited and so he had to let the music play on to not give the impression that he was terribly embarrassed by “Let’s talk about Sex” and the god awful “I wanna sex you up”. Bless him! All that gripping of the wheel and coughing in all the right places! To forgive him his blushes, I hadn’t a clue what the songs were about. At all. But I was intrigued.. 

What the hell is SEX? I asked myself…

 To be honest, dear reader, I had NO IDEA. Then, I was so impressed by the various shades of purple that flowed over my dear parents’ facial expressions, that I was damned to be kept in the dark and I wanted to know more. Ha. “Knowing more” in an all-girls boarding school was a tough call. But I soon got the idea.

GROSS. 

So here I am, years later, being told by a team of medical staff that the time has come to have sex. Lots of it. The more the better, they say. “All the time!” quipped the nurse, as if one does not have anything else to do all day. 

What! I hear you say..let me explain. So, I had cervical cancer. I hope I don’t need to point out to you all where the cervix is? Really? However, many of you may not know exactly what radiotherapy is and what it does to ones insides.

At the very beginning of the whole cancer affair I was terrified about chemotherapy. Will I be sick (yes)? Will I lose my hair? (no I didn’t..) Will I be shattered?(yes).

But nobody prepared me for the devastation of radiotherapy. What is it? Well. Radiotherapy has been around for over 100 years and so it is surprising that not a great deal is known about it. Unless one goes through it… we have all heard of Marie Curie, and thanks to her I can still write this now. Radium is used to kill cancer cells. Back in the days, it was applied directly into the tumor… now it is different. Civil almost! Everyday I went down to the hospital, whipped my trousers down and was laid on a plank whilst this thing whizzed around me. It was a bit like being courted by R2-D2 on speed..yet..NO PAIN! I didn’t feel a thing! “just you wait..” said the nurse. Umm. And she was right.. after three weeks the radio kicked in. Cramps, bleeding, cramps, tiredness, sickness and OH don’t even talk to me about having a pee..It was hell. It was impossible..therapy only took five minutes but I was in agony..and the best was yet to come.

After 30 sessions of external radio, I had to do INTERNAL radio.

Disclaimer: those of a weak disposition please skip ahead…

I was called in just before Christmas to do internal radio. I had a drip of tranquilizers fitted into my arm and a shot of cortisone. Then I was taken in to the theater and my legs were hoisted up and strapped down. This should have set alarm bells ringing..

Then three long probes were inserted into me that went to the top of my uterus and beside my cervix, breaking through the hard membrane of the tumor. Now, I have given birth and gone through Brazilian waxing guys, which was a PIC NIC compared to this. I saw stars. Then I had to be scanned to make sure it was all in place properly and I had to wait for FIVE HOURS with this thing inside me. With a pee bag… I mean really! So I kissed dignity goodbye and embraced the situation. And after all this rubbish, three little wires were hooked up to my long suffering vagina and buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz that’s it. I actually fell asleep. All that pain and faff for 20 minutes of humming! Little did I know that the humming was pelting my body with enough radiation to keep the Christmas lights on Oxford Street going for a year. This repeated three times and I finished on Christmas eve 2014. I was on my knees. The pain was immense. I dreaded going to the bathroom.. I hated eating. My skin from my navel to my mid-thigh had turned black. Here, my hair fell out. Then my skin started to peel.. it came away like silk on a loom. Shards of it. How can I ever go back to being normal?

It takes a year. At least. It takes love and patience and bravery. The last thing I wanted to do on this earth was have a normal sexual relationship with my husband. NO WAY. But, who refuses a doctors order? I had to. UGG. 

So I did.

If anyone can remember what it was like to lose your virginity do spare a thought.. this was much worse. And now with my body in full menopause (thanks radiotherapy!) it is one hundred times more awful. My mind is where it is, I am 32, but my body has regressed to a 12 year olds in some ways and to a 50 year olds in others.. I have to be very careful. I still don’t know my after cancer self. I am different. I am fragile yet so much stronger. Aside from the constant hot flushes, the mood swings, the anger, the tears, the lack of comfort, the UNFAIRNESS of it all. Apart from that I am fine…

I have been waltzing with R2-D2.. give me a while to come back to earth..

xxx  Riggy