Pap Smear: Why Do We Have To Be A Thing?

I am going to divulge something personal, something that exists quietly within the confines of my mind: I am petrified of getting pap smears. I mean panic attack, hyperventilating, fear-induced anxiety. From the age of 19, I attempted, time and time again, to get a pap smear: "Oh my God! Oh my God! No! No! No! No! No! Wait! Wait! Wait! IT'S HURTS!!! STOOOOOP!!!! I can't do it!!! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be this way. I was molested my whole childhood. I'm so sorry." And the doctor responses were as follows: "I am not hurting you." "Be still!" "I can't work this way." "You are not being molested now!" I felt ashamed of myself. I felt like a freak. I had self-judgmental thoughts of why I could barely put a tampon in me and why I couldn't withstand a pap smear like every other adult woman in the world. Finally, at the age of 35, with my sister-friend Jasmine holding my hand, I had my first pap smear. That day, with tears pouring from my eyes, I thanked my sister and the nurse practitioner who was patient and gentle enough to perform that initial pap smear. Thank you.

Back in January of 2014, I was diagnosed with Uterine cancer and subsequently had to have a full abdominal hysterectomy (I am still paying the hot flash price to this day. Sucks.). Since the hysterectomy, I have had two pap smears, but I have not had one since 2015. And I am afraid, once again, to have a metal clamp unceremoniously pushed up my vagina. If my finger accidentally hits the hole during masturbation, I scream in pain. It's a whole Thing. But I do eventually need to get that Pap smear...

I don't want to go backwards within my pap smear narrative... But...I genuinely have great anxiety about the whole affair. No longer so quietly within the confines of my mind.