Actually, just as I type the title of this blog I am asking myself: “Is it weird that I have enough stories about Pap Smears to fill a whole blog?” And while I am sure the answer to that question is “Yes,” I am going to do it anyway.
Pap Smear Story #1:
When my daughter was around 16 years old, I went to the doctor to have my annual pap smear. And came home all whiny and pissy because of it. Always willing to share, I sat her down to talk about pap smears. I started this conversation by saying, “When you become sexually active, this is what you will have to do on an annual basis” and then went into extreme detail on the process making it sound much, much worse than it is. Well, probably not – after all it is pretty much as bad as one would describe. My hope was that this conversation would be one more reason to discourage her from having future sex.
Follow Up Pap SmearStory #2:
In follow up to Story #1, my daughter was quick to bring this subject up at dinner the same week. She turned to her 14ish old brother and asked: “Do you know what a ‘Pap Smear’ is?”
His response: “It has the words ‘Pap’ and ‘Smear,’ in it; does it sound like I want to know what it is?”
Pap Smear Story #3:
When we first moved to Kentucky, I attended the adult Sunday school class in my new church. I met some real nice folks (everyone in Kentucky is so nice, bless their hearts) and started making some new friendships.
Shortly thereafter, I had a dental issue and randomly picked a dentist from the 15 page local phone book. I showed up for my appointment and to my surprise I discovered that the dentist was someone from my Sunday class!
“Wow, I didn’t know you were a dentist.” I told him.
“Yes, this happens in a small town sometimes,” he replied.
“Well, all I can say is thank heavens I am not here for a pap smear.”