A treasured friend asked me to hold her hand for a cervical biopsy yesterday. We sat in the room semi-nudie (she not me) for about a half hour waiting for her gynie, reviewing the instruments of torture left out for us to peruse and noticed not a drop of xylocaine. This was both perplexing and dismaying. I did my best to get her to cut and run..that I'd sneak her out a side door and we'd drive and drive and never look back, but to her credit, she wanted this over with. Finally her young dr arrived, questioned her knowledge of the upcoming procedure and allowed us both to watch some true reality tv of her entire cervix in living color. Oh, there'd be no anesthetic...seems it's more painful than the procedure, or he must've read somewhere, not having a cervix of his own to experiment on. And then the miracle...there was nothing to biopsy! There we were holding hands, being nervous, and hoping for a commercial on the tv (me not she), and were told to come back in four months (she not me). It was amazing. All of that anxiety (both of us) and then a happy dance to the parking lot. These were the only non x-rated photos I could take of the day's event.
