Not fibroids - something worse?

WARNING: this entry describes female anatomy - men of a sensitive disposition may prefer not to read on. 

I had a scan today - there is not  a sign of fibroids... my womb is totally healthy... hurray.  But what is causing the bleeding?  After an uncomfortable encounter with a speculum (to think those women's health feminists used to use them for self-examination apparently quite cheerfully) the gynaecologist declared that I had abrasion at the top of my vagina.  "There is bruising there".  Once upon a time I had a long-standing sexual partner who seemed to think that size WAS everything - and used, unwittingly, to subject my interior to a considerable amount of bashing about.  I was young, I protested a bit, but not enough, because I didn't want to hurt his feelings.  I tried to encourage him to do things properly...rather unsuccessfully on the whole -  but that was twenty odd years ago now, so I don't think that was where the bruising came from.  Mr O - who seems older and more grizzled than when I met him last (as I would too, were it not for my hair appointment yesterday) said he would give me another seeing to with the speculum with a fortnight, but this time he would use a microscope to examine the cells in this abraded area.  He said this sort of thing usually happened to women who used vaginal pessaries (not guilty) or after an hysterectomy (ditto).  He expected he might do a biopsy with a local anaesthetic next time.   Did he have any idea?  "It's definitely not fibroids."  "It hasn't bled for several days" I said  "It's bleeding now"  he replied - true, he'd shown me a rusty red swab prior to shoving into its plastic test tube and sending to the Path Lab.

In the car on the way home I was upset.  I allowed a tear or two to escape from my stern countenance. They hadn't said cancer, but that was clearly on their agenda.  I had a quick prayer, told God I was willing to die, if time was up - said it really didn't matter about the books.  Said at least I'd had a few years since the last horror.  I realised that all my stuff about coming from a non-cancer family was just bravado, why should I be safe, just because there was no genetic tendency? - lots of cancer (most?) is environmental.    Then I told myself to stop being melodramatic - they hadn't said anything about cancer - this was all my imagination, I was channelling La Dame aux Camellias - hoping I would be able to retire to a chaise lounge while all my former lovers arrived to have poignant conversations with me (ou sont les neiges d'antan....)

When I got home at 11.00 I realised the reason my legs were shaking was probably low blood sugar, so I treated myself to a beetroot and herring wrap - since I need to stay healthy I suppose (or should I just give in now and take up a gin,pork scratchings and cake diet?).   Then I went to Google "vaginal abrasion" - and discovered it can probably be treated with cider vinegar and/or yoghurt (wrong website) - I hunted for a long time to find anything about it that was not about abrasion caused by rough sex.  I found it eventually, by searching for "cervical abrasion" - and bingo - a lovely BMA website - full of technical language which mercifully a classical education allows one to understand (I knew it would come in useful one day).  And that was where I discovered vaginal carcinoma.  

Cancer of the fanny - it's not exactly dinner party conversation is it?  This will be the kind of disease, if I prove to have it, which will be a bit hard to talk about without frightening the horses.  And you don't hear much about it because it's the most uncommon of the gynaecological cancers (so at least it's exclusive - in a way).  There are two kinds, a pretty unpleasant kind that kills people quickly, usually young girls, peak age 17-21.  So I probably don't have that sort, and the other kind - squamous cell carcinoma - better known in its manifestation as a common skin cancer - the slow-growing kind that you can have for years which metastatizes in the lungs or liver.  Well, I think we know what happens to people with liver cancer - but let's just wait.  

There is another slight possibility - skin thinning as a result of the menopause and lack of oestrogen.   But given that I was awarded the Queens Award for Industry for Services to Oestrogen production only 2 years ago that doesn't sound very probable..  despite being the proud possessor of a Mirena coil which is manfully pumping progestogen into me.

Fortunately although rare, the common form of VC (yes, I may be getting the VC for courage in the face of quotidian dreariness) is very treatable - but in any case I don't know it's that - it's just that I can't find any other condition where this abrasion occurs.  The good news is that if it is VC then there is actually a cream - can you believe it? - that works in the majority of cases.  Failing that internal and external radiotherapy (side effects - "burning sensations" - don't they just mean burning?).  At the last resort there is our old chum the radical hysterectomy (abeste profanes!) - but at the moment I'm telling myself "it will all be over by Christmas!".   I guess if they get going swiftly and I do need radiotherapy it could be complete by Christmas... 

Anyway, that's just the worst case scenario - perhaps this abrasion was the result of the hysteroscopy in December 2011? I was thinking of taking to my bed for the next few weeks after reading all this, but then I decided it would be a shame to spoil my energetic mood, so I ate some chocolate and carried on!