Menu 
Opinion Queer in Translation Getting the all clear
Opinion Queer in Translation Getting the all clear
| Getting the all clear |
 |
 |
 |
| Saturday, 12 July 2008 02:36 |
 There’s this tremendous sense, as if a huge weight has been lifted of my shoulders, when I hear I’m given the all clear.
 There’s this tremendous sense, as if a huge weight has been lifted of my shoulders, when I hear I’m given the all clear.Not that I had anything to really worry about. But I’m sure a lot of people can relate with me on that nervous feeling one gets when they get their STD checks. It’s just plain nerve wracking. No matter how many I go for, it’s always the same thing. The waiting room walls are lined with posters of STD warnings. I sit looking around slightly nervous waiting for the inevitable appointment. To take my mind of the matter at hand I browse through the magazine rack. It's no surprise that they’re all outdated. Cunningly using the disguise of one of the outdated magazines, I proceed to read up on some STD brochures. My heart begins to race as I read over some symptoms of STDs and gulp heavily noticing a red blemish on my arm. Is it a pimple or something else? I begin to wonder. I quickly close the magazine and continue to wait nervously not wanting to add to any further paranoia. So I just sit in silence waiting to be called in. The check-up always starts with a blur of questions such as: ‘How many sexual partners have you had in the last six months?" I swiftly count the number inside my head, relieved I can also count them on one hand. I proceed to tell the examiner, still hoping I don’t come across as slut. Then there are the other questions, like how many times have you had oral, anal, etc. As I answer, I find all my previous relationships and sexual escapades flicker through my head like an old film. The examiner asks if I have any questions and I show her the red blemish on my arm. To my huge relief she explains it is just a run-of-the-mill pimple. After the questions, the full body examination and blood tests. The only needle I like in my arm is one injecting ink, not ones that are sucking my blood out like a mosquito. While I feel the needle press in, inside my head I’ve teleported myself to a happy place to ignore that pain. No STD check up is complete without the talk. As I sit on my seat patiently listening, I feel like I’m back in Grade 7 in Sex Ed having the fear of STDs thrown at me. There's always that split second where I consider a life of celibacy, but that is quickly crushed when I remember the great pleasure that comes with sex. I’ll leave the celibate life for the priest and nuns. I leave the check-up with a little show bag in the form of a brown paper bag full of condoms and sachets of lube. Now to wait for the 6-7 day period before the results are in. Don’t get me wrong, I believe STD checks are extremely important, especially when we live a lifestyle where monogamy isn’t always the priority. For me it's more the fact that I hate sitting in a room answering personal details about my sex life and having a pair of latex gloved hands examining every inch of my body. The gloved thing is not a fetish I’ve gotten into. But at the same time I admire the nurses and doctors. I mean, it can’t be the most enjoyable job where on a daily basis you’re touching a stranger’s genitals and probing arseholes. But worse than that is being the bearer of bad news. But it’s just like the people who clean the toilets you drunkenly pee over... someone's got to do it. I wait for the days to pass. The eve of result day I always struggle to get a good night’s sleep. Soon as the clinic doors are open I’m there. Once again I’m given the all clear. Deep down inside I knew I’d be fine. But you can never be too sure. I believe STD checks aren’t just for me, but also for the people I’m sleeping with. The last thing I want to be doing is passing on something that could be prevented. Because I do believe there are things in life more important then just finding your next orgasm, and if you’re both taking care, there should be no need for a scare. - QIT |