The Spring Clean Challenge


Spring has truly sprung around these parts, and it heralds some crazy spring cleaning gene in me, where I sort through stuff, pull everything out of the linen cupboard and go through my wardrobe. I tackle the tupperware cupboard for the annual MATCH THE LID TO THE CONTAINER game. I take a garbage bag into the bathroom and ditch dead toiletries. Oh, my middle name is PURGE.

And every two years my Spring Clean includes a trip to the quack, to meet with a duck-bill.

That day was yesterday.

FACT – No one on the planet likes getting a pap smear.

FACT – I had put it off for far to long and my Dr. was NOT going to let sleeping flaps lie.

FACT – I was frightened that one day the door bell would ring, and my GP would be standing there, arms crossed, speculum in hand.

I sat in the waiting room yesterday with a sense of impending doom, when an elderly man came in. He had been rear ended in a fender bender, and his kids were insisting that he come in and get checked out. He sat next to me, and in an effort to get my mind off my appointment, we went through all the scenarios which may have led to the lady running up the back of his car. His brand new car, may I add. Was the sun in her face? Was she on her phone? Did she have a little nanna nap? Talking, talking, talking until I heard my name called out.


A quick word about my GP. Imagine if Lee Lin Chin was in medicine. THAT is my doctor. Her bedside manner is not charming, she does not get my sense of humour whatsoever but she is very thorough and very smart. Hence why I keep going back.

My nerves, at this point, take over and manifests itself with witty quips and humorous banter, which is completely ignored while she pulls up my file. Her silence doesn’t stop me, as I continue my one woman stand up routine which is only stopped when she asked me to disrobe from the waist down.


I give her a compliment, telling her that out of all the smears I have had, she does the most superior in all the land.

“You don’t much around…” I tell her, smoothly, as if I am on a date or something. Dr. Chin talks me through every step of the procedure which is both reassuring, and just a tad alarming. In and out in 30 seconds.


She then pokes and prods around my armpits (freshly shaved because STANDARDS LADIES) before she embarks on a journey around my chesticals. She locates my old mate Fibroadenoma and they spend some time catching up with each other. The rest is all clear although she tells me that because my breasts are dense, (boobs immediately offended) she would like me to have a mammogram anyway. Or as I like to call it, a tit sandwich press.

“You may get dressed…” and with that, the curtain closes. On my examination and on my stand up show.

As I leave the surgery, the spring sunshine beats down on my face, and my mood changes, from one of nervousness, to pure, pure joy and relief. I DID IT! I BLOODY DID IT!

I go to the cafe and order cake and coffee. Spring clean? DONE.

If you are over 40, please click here to find out how you can get a free mammogram! FREE!


Do you take the SPRING CLEAN PLEDGE?

Please, as a favour to me, make that appointment today. And then, eat the cake. xxxx