98% of donuts rock

I saw my consultant this morning at 9am. The Mechanic sat out in the waiting area, worry etched on his face. The lady consultant said “your boyfriend can come in too if you like?”

“No!” I said somewhat loudly for the quiet hospital. “No, it’s ok. He doesn’t need to see this undignified event.”

The lady consultant was lovely, really reassuring and we had a bit of a giggle with the equally lovely nurse. The Mechanic commented later that we were making an awful racket that he could hear while he was waiting.

Anyway, I’ll spare you the details, but it all looks good. I saw a still of my donut on screen afterwards and it’s all pink and smooth and looks really healthy (apart from the gaping hole in the middle where most women have a pin prick! but even that is healing well). So, my 6 month follow up smear was taken and is off in the lab now. Just have to wait, but it looks like I am one of the 98% of women who are able to breathe a big old sigh of relief after treatment and hopefully this is the end of it all, never to trouble me again.

I came squealing out of the consultation room and danced up the corridor waving my follow up sheet in the air and pirouetting. I am back in 6 months.

Well, The Mechanic and I decided that this super news (and all before 9.30am) called for some serious celebrating… so we stopped at Fulham Broadway station to get some treats.

And guess what we decided to go with?

A dozen box of Krispy Kreme DONUTS!

Hurrah for donuts! Donuts rock, maaaan! (My donut is the best ever).