Give me Back MY Annual....since it's called a f-ing Annual for a Reason

I went to planned parenthood today to make my annual appointment. I have had several mishaps regarding this appointment in the last year. One being that I thought I was supposed to have it in January, thus I set it up, I went, I got naked, I laid on the table with a paper-sheet across me and then the doctor comes in and tells me we got the date wrong. Since I have the pink card I can only have 1 a year and my last one was in March. So it’s March. It’s the END of March. I go in today to make my appointment and get more pills.

She tells me that since FEBRUARY the plan has changed and that women 21-30 who have never had an abnormal pap only have to get them every 2 years. And since I had one last year I don’t have to lay naked on a table with a paper sheet across me and have a doctor insert those metal clamp things into my vagina. Fine.

Well, not really. I am actually pretty pissed off that this “theory” has become a practice. I remember hearing the controversy on the news and I thought it was all “talk,” but no, of course, when it comes to fucking over women’s health they’ll go ahead and implement those theories as soon as possible. I can’t wait until next year when they change their minds again because half of the women who skipped a year end up having major problems—like anyone really cares (except the women who actually have to deal with the issues…which is what, half of the population). In any case. In my theory it’s better to be safe than sorry. And I want it to go back to once a year. That is what I know. That is what I feel comfortable with. That is really the only way to get me to the doctor to begin with, because granted, it’s awkward, but as a woman I’d rather have one awkward moment a year, than years of awkward moments.

So FUCK YOU medical theorists. And FUCK all the people who want to control MY body. You can’t have it. It is MINE (whether you want to check it for cancer once a year, every two years, whenever you fucking feel like it, or whether you just want to see me curl up in a ball and die, you can't have it (whether you think you can or not). Rarhar!