The morning arrived as always and I groggily got ready for my appointment. For those of you not familiar with a LEEP procedure, it's when the doctor, as a result of abnormal paps, goes into the cervix with an electrical device called a LEEP and "burns away and cauterizes" the area that's "questionable". In my case, there were no signs of cervical cancer at all, but just enough abnormalities in my pap results to warrant it.

Better safe than sorry.

I agreed with my doctor's philosophy. "Why not just do this so that your mind can be at ease and you'll get normal paps?"

My fiancé and I arrived on time. Thank God he was there for moral support. I'm the type who says, "Oh, no. You don't have to go. I'll be just fine." But, inside, I wasn't "just fine" and I was grateful to have him with me. Although I knew what to expect because I knew someone who'd had this done, it still was MY body and ME. It's not the same until you go through it yourself.

It's then that sympathy turns to empathy.

My doctor, who is wonderful, and he also delivers babies. My last two visits she ran far behind because of that. This time, she was an hour off schedule so we had to leave and come back.

I can't tell you what a number that does on your psyche. Here I was, finally there ready to face my demons and get this over with and my built up brevity would have to wait another hour.

We drove around, made a few stops and returned. The moment I walked in Lynda, (a woman who works there and has a great sense of humor), said, "Don't sit down Ellen, follow me."

What? No time to get my bearings? Okay. I looked briefly at my fiancé, feeling better knowing that he'd be there when I came out, and wandered off into the unknown.

I wore a two piece outfit because I wanted to be able to remain dressed from the waist up. Kind of a security blanket. When I said this, Lynda laughed. "Of course! What do you think, we're taking your tonsils out?"

I thank her for making me laugh. They've really got a knack in that office for helping ease the tension.

As I waited in the room staring at my black socks against my sheet white legs, I wondered what this would feel like and how long it would take. Being a sufferer of anxiety already, I felt my heart beating a millions times a minute. (That's what it felt like...)

I had to calm myself down and I knew how to do it.

One of the best things that works for me has little to do with medicine and all to do with faith. So, I repeated this affirmation many times: "I can do all through Christ which strengthens me." I said it until the door opened and found that my body and mind had calmed down quite a bit. I knew that God was with me and that "We" would get through this, together.

As Lynda grounded me, and yes, I mean that in the electrical sense of the word, I felt myself begin to race with panic again. I decided to make a joke of it and asked if I should remove my jewelry -- just in case. Everyone laughed including me.

I was being given the strength I needed.

The doctor came in and just her bedside manner is enough to make you more comfortable. She is wonderful.

I asked her a several questions as Lynda and a student in training watched her get "ready".

"Lay back now, Ellen. Okay, scoot down. Nope, a little further."

I can do all through Christ, which strengthens me. I can do all through Christ, which strengthens me.

"This is going to feel like a mosquito bite."

"How BIG of a mosquito?" I asked.

WOW. That was a HUGE mosquito!

I heard the equipment turn on and suddenly felt my heart race madly as the doctor began the procedure. My legs began to shake like they were out of control. It felt like more than a panic attack.

Thinking it was panic, I repeated, again, my affirmation. It helped my mind but not the shaking.

I had to ask.

"Why is my heart racing so much and why are my legs shaking so badly?"

"Oh, that's normal. You got a shot of a drug, which makes the heart race. It helps the numbing agent work faster and will wear off in about fifteen minutes."

Whew, I thought. It's not just me.

All I remember is being there and repeating that affirmation until the procedure was done, which really didn't take too long. Actually, before I knew it, it was over and the only pain I'd felt was the initial needle.

"Okay, you're all set and we'll see you in a month. Everything went fine and it was still just that one small area on the outside. Nothing on the inside."

Thank you God, I said to myself.

"Just lay back for a minute before you get up."

"Okay. Thanks."

As I lay in the silence of the room, staring at the ceiling, I repeated the affirmation: "I can do all through Christ, which strengthens me." I took in a deep, calming breath and rose to get dressed.

My fiancé was right there waiting to drive me home.

© Ellen M. DuBois