Five years ago on July 3, I sat down in an examining room with shaking knees, a sober-faced doctor and biopsy results. The news was not good.
That Independence Day, my fiercest wish was for freedom from cervical cancer. I hoped for the liberty to see my babies grow up, to reach for unfulfilled dreams, to live to see 40.
It was a freedom I once owned and — like 22 percent of women in Colorado last year — gave away in a careless moment, a missed screening, a worry for another day.
If only, if only, if only . . . the chorus drummed in my head over and over again, an anchoring beat for the chirping fears and incessant what-ifs that flew through my head like scattered birdsong.
Sure, I’d missed a yearly Pap smear, but I was young and, I thought, healthy. When they called me back in to biopsy some irregular cells, the sickening realization came that I’d waited too long.
There are moments that change your life forever. This was one of them. I was diagnosed with cervical cancer, a young mother and wife, happily married nearly 10 years. I’ll never feel invulnerable again.
Regret is wasteful and useless and empty; it deters action and voids hope. But that was all I could feel at first, knowing a simple screening could have changed my life.
If only, if only, if only . . . the regrets vibrated to the rhythm of my pounding heart.
Cervical cancer is the second most common cancer among women worldwide. It’s also incredibly preventable: Ninety-two percent of women diagnosed with cervical cancer will survive if it’s found early. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommend an annual Pap smear once women turn 21, or within three years of becoming sexually active.
Yet, cervical cancer screenings across the United States are declining more than any other preventive health measure for women. Forty-seven states reported a drop in the number of women receiving Pap smears last year, according to a 2010 national report from the National Women’s Law Center.
Colorado received a failing grade on cervical cancer screenings: Just 78 percent of women here had a Pap test within the past three years, down from 88 percent in 2007.
And, despite its preventability, one-third of the 12,000 U.S. women diagnosed with cervical cancer in 2007 died from this disease, says the CDC. Had I waited even one more year for a screening, I would have been one of them.
Cervical cancer occurs more frequently in women who are poor or without health insurance — increasing populations, thanks to the recent recession.
Somehow, Pap smears have become an acceptable budget cut, both for poor women cutting corners and for government officials doing the same. Colorado’s legislature cut more than 40 percent of funding for free breast and cervical cancer screenings for uninsured women in its 2011 budget. Colorado also doesn’t require insurance providers to cover cervical cancer screenings, according to the 2010 report.
The cost of seeing a doctor without insurance is high. The cost of neglecting a Pap test is higher. Even for those who survive, there’s still an awful lot to lose.
Irregular pre-cancerous cells are easily removed. Once cancer develops, however, a common treatment is to cut off part of the cervix, putting future pregnancies at risk. I traded a piece of my cervix for a chance at survival. It was painful and I was scared, but they cut out all the cancer.
It was then that I met cancer’s sinister shadow. You can get cancer — and it can come back. I was paroled, but not free: Without a hysterectomy, there was a 20 percent chance the cancer would return. I hadn’t yet closed the door on more children, but cancer slammed it shut.
If only, if only, if only . . . the regrets took wing once more.
I had to choose between having more children and living to see the children I have grow up. Put that way, it’s an easy decision. But the truth is there’s nothing easy about cancer. No woman should have to lose her life, or her fertility, to such a preventable disease.
I had a hysterectomy. In return, I celebrated a 10th wedding anniversary, a 40th birthday, and just last week, saw my daughter graduate sixth grade. I lost, but I gained; I survived.
In 2006, the year I was diagnosed, a vaccine was approved to fight the human papillomavirus (HPV), which causes most cases of cervical cancer. There are no signs or symptoms of the virus. Although spread by sexual contact, HPV is so common that eight in 10 women will have it by the time they turn 50.
The best time for the vaccine is when girls are between 9 and 13 years old, before any possibility of sexual contact, says the CDC. Many parents hesitate to get the vaccine for their daughters at this age, sure there is still time.
I have an 11-year-old and, yes, it feels too early. But that’s exactly why the time is right. Vaccines are lifetime protections, not contraception. We give babies vaccines for chicken pox even though they’re most likely to get it in elementary school. The earlier our daughters get protected, the safer they’ll be.
If a young girl contracts even one of the four strains of HPV most likely to cause cervical cancer, the vaccine will be less effective. Studies also show that younger girls given the vaccine actually produce more antibodies to attack and kill the real HPV virus than older teens.
This Independence Day, we can give all women freedom from cervical cancer by restoring funding for screenings, mandating insurance coverage of Pap smears, and giving vaccines to our daughters. And we can honor those freedoms by getting regular screenings.
If only, if only, if only . . . don’t let the beat go on.
Lisa Wirthman is a freelance writer who lives in Highlands Ranch.
Colorado’s failing grade
Because it’s so preventable, cervical cancer is strongly linked to women who live in poverty and lack health insurance.
78% Percentage of the state’s female population over the age of 18 that had a Pap test in the last three years. State rank: 25th
17.8% Percent of women who are uninsured. State rank: 29th
11.9% Percent of women 18 and older who live in poverty. State rank : 22nd
Source: National Women’s Law Center
