Surprise Pap

I just had a consultation with a doctor.  I have had a few this year; I am almost used to the awkward silences and fluorescent lighting. Some involved nudity, one left me a bit angry and confused. Today's was awkward (but not silent) and definitely flourescently lit. As we all know from encounters in clothing shop fitting rooms, there can only be truth under flourescent lights.

The first thing I did when I arrived in my new doctor's office is to take a furtive picture of a book on his desk (the book shown above). It set the scene for our consultation (which, by the way, had nothing to do with the topic of the book... or so I thought when I made the appointment).

I don't want to go into details about our encounter (maybe I will later, when I have processed).  Right now, I just want to tell you that if you are a homo man you should probably get the HPV vaccine. What I will share about my consultation is this unexpected pamphlet I got at the end.

You Have Just Had an Anal Pap Smear 

Introduction - Over the last decade, medical providers have become more aware of the risk of infection with the human papillomavirus (HPV) in the anus. Doctors have long known how HPV affects the cervix in women and we now know that it can affect the anus in a very similar fashion.  The surface of the anus is made up of the same tissue as the cervix. When HPV infects a cell it can occasionally cause the cell to develop changes in its DNA called mutations. As more and more mutations occur there is a chance that a normal cell will become a cancer cell.  In the cervix we perform Pap smear to check for abnormal cells which can then be easily treated to prevent cancer. In fact, forty years of cervical Pap smears have reduced cervical cancer rates in this country [U.S.] by 500%. In recent years rates of anal cancer in gay and bisexual men have been rising dramatically.  In an effort to combat this problem we recommend the same kinds of preventative screening in the anus to prevent cancer as we do in the cervix.  And that is why you've just had an anal Pap smear.

Stephen E. Goldstone, M.D. 

Brazen and lewd as I am, I don't know whether I would have been able to talk about my last sex, bottoming and topping, condom use and sexual partners in the clinic if it all frightened or disgusted my doctor. I can only imagine how much more unpleasant a pap smear could have been. When I have energy, I will write about the time a doctor tried to ask me all of those things without making eye contact and without speaking in full sentences... Or the time a nurse asked me with deer-in-headlights-eyes if I was ok with her looking "down there". I would have been ok if I knew that she knew her way around "down there". Anger, confusion, flourescent lighting and awkwardness.

What I am thankful for, this thankstaking holiday, is medical providers that recognize my life as a gay boy, and are well prepared to take care of all of my health needs, not only the polite ones.

*Read this New York Times article about the neglect of LGBT health by the medical profession. The comments are especially entertaining (but in a distressing way).

speak now

"What are the words you do not yet have? What do you need to say? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence?"

Mansplanations

Mansplain. v. To explain in a patronizing manner, assuming total ignorance on the part of those listening. The mansplainer is often shocked and hurt when their mansplanation is not taken as absolute fact, criticized or even rejected altogether.

A friend of mine fell victim to a hip-intellectual's mansplanation tonight. The scene of the crime - a house party in my favourite brownstone in gentrified Brooklyn. I had encountered the manalyst myself a few moments earlier - he seemed to enjoy saying obvious things using unnecessary words and hand-gestures - many of them. I had wanted to excuse myself for another drink, but my cup was full. Also, I had premium real estate right by the food table - it was too scrumptious. I resigned to a few minutes of his mansplaining the importance of clean drinking water while stuffing my mouth - making sure to always have just enough food in it to make it impossible to respond to anything.

I wasn't too bothered really; after all, a few moments earlier a well-intentioned lady had asked me which South African Tribal Languages I speak, and which Tribe I belong to. She asked me not really to know what languages (because that’s what I call them) I speak, she had already prepared to forget the answer. It was to confirm her knowledge of Tribal Africa. This kind of thing bothers me sometimes - on another day I might have said something snarky about her blouse or started a shouting match. But today I wasn’t moved. I was drinking something sweet and surprisingly potent out of a red plastic cup. Now, my friend was angry about her mansplaining situation - so three of us pulled off to the side to say to each other some very unkind things about the manalyst. (We rubbished everything from his poor posture to his occupation). It was therapeutic.

When I first arrived here in New York, and at my school, it took me a while to get used to how people speak sometimes. Self-assured, assertive, and confrontational on a really thin knowledge base about the topic at hand. I remember one conversation with a school mate in which he impressed upon me that The Economist is really not a good publication to read. It is so UK-centric. Unless I feel beholden to my former colonizer, I should really switch to the New York Times or something like that. I was not ready for that, I was floored.

I almost duelled with a lawyer the other day who proclaimed that he had never discovered culture as patriarchal as African culture. People know more about us than we know about each other, it seems. Africa has over 2000 languages and just over 50 countries. Who can talk about African culture? Certainly not me.

When I first arrived, conversation seemed at times like mental arm-wrestling - it was suddenly possible to win or lose them. I tend(ed) to lose them. Manalysts and their mansplanations really crept under my skin. They don't so much anymore. I don't know why. I think I have given up, or turned into one. Ok, I don't really think I have turned into one. I hope not. 

But if you think I have, feel free to pull two friends to the side and say unkind things about me to each other. 

Applications (again)

Its time to apply for things again. Of course, the plans I had made before are before-plans, and now I need to make now-plans.

I attended a career fair the other day. It was slightly depressing because nothing there grabbed me. There was only the possibility of good money or prestige and the safety of a resume that can be warped into the right lie for just about any of the employers there.

I almost applied to a consulting company. (I had already bled out a disingenuous letter of motivation). Their online app system kept on rejecting my transcript from UCT (the pdf file was probably too big or corrupt or something). So I just ditched the application because I probably didn't want it enough, and they would probably sniff that out down the line.

I should probably just keep on lurching from one interesting project to another until it all comes together.  On the upside, I (cross fingers) have my next interesting project at a really exciting agency which does really amazing work but they are not going to pay me.

But you can't eat passion - not forever anyways.