College is a lifestyle like no other. Parties and study sessions coexist in a world where all the rules of adolescent life are flipped. We are now older and hopefully more mature. We focus on social functions, but also on school duties. Tests are a huge part of our lives. How do we prepare? When do we take it? What will the outcome be? All these questions weight on us, until finally the test is taken, the results are in and our college future is decided.
Then there are the other, extracurricular tests we must face. We test our relationships, our happiness and even our lives. The results are crucial, with the outcomes also deciding our futures. Some of these tests are never easy to take. Some are. And some can be put off, but at what risk to ourselves and the ones we care about?
This week I faced that music, and took the most important test of my life to date. I went to the doctor and was tested for sexually transmitted diseases. Why? Because I am an adult? Because I should be responsible? Maybe so. Or maybe the fear of not knowing finally overrode my fears of getting tested. Regardless of my reason, I went where so many people are too afraid to go.
The first step was calling for an appointment at the Longest Student Health Center on campus. I would be lying if I said that picking up the phone wasn’t a scary moment. But I did it anyway. I told myself that I shouldn’t be embarrassed to make that call. Thankfully the attendants at the front desk never said anything to make me uncomfortable. In fact, they acted as if the procedure was as normal as getting checked for a cold.
I went in Wednesday through those front doors, still keeping my head up and mind off of what was to come. I checked in for my appointment, filled out insurance forms and then started the hardest part of the process. Waiting. I sat there with horrible ideas and scenarios running through my mind. Common sense told me to be calm, but my fears got the best of me at some points while I was sitting there. I could never get the question out of my mind. The “What if?” kept repeating over and over.
It was almost surreal at times, out there in the waiting room. The normalcy of the atmosphere, the standard hospital mode of operations continuing on in the back while I sat there waiting to get this over with, to be done, to calm my fears.
I suddenly thought to myself, “When my name is called, it’s going to be real. I’m actually going through with this.”
The door opened. A smiling nurse came through, calling my name as she walked through the doorway. Jodi Stone, my doctor’s registered nurse, greeted me with a smile and without any judgments. As I followed her to a small, curtained area she explained the process of what was going on, partly I think to help me with my article, but also partly to help calm my fears.
In the cubicle, she asked me some general medical questions and took my vital statistics. My elevated blood pressure gave me away. She said she could tell I was nervous. But Stone quickly explained that my reaction was common.
After a few minutes of medical questions, I was led to an examining room for privacy. My doctor, Robert Collins, already sat in the room waiting for me. After an introduction and explanation of what he was going to do, Collins began asking me the personal questions that I expected earlier.
Do you have any concerns about any of your sexual partners? How many have you had? Are you sexually active? How old were you when you first became sexually active? How many partners have you had in the last year? What’s your sexual preference? What are your sexual practices? Do you use protection?
“There are reasons for these questions,” Collins explained. “They help to ascertain the true risks you may be in.”
Collins said honesty was the most important aspect of taking the test, and then explained what would happen when I received my test results next week.
My fears had dropped after talking to Collins and Stone, mostly because I was no longer afraid of being judged or embarrassed.
Then came the moment of truth, or what Collins called the main reason why most males would not come in for testing. The swab.
Never before in my life has the word swab scared me quite so much. But it had to be done. I knew this. I knew it going into the test, just as I knew that the actual act of being “swabbed” would not be the worst experience of my life.
Awkward? A little. Uncomfortable? Definitely. There are some places in male anatomy where Q-Tips should never go. But I kept telling myself that I was being socially responsible, that I was an adult and that this was what I had to do.
But the swab process was over before I really thought it had started. Again, an atmosphere of professionalism and common courtesy was all I could detect.
That was the hard part. And then it was over. I left that office with my dignity still intact and no regrets.
After the testing with the doctor, I gave two vials of blood for testing and was out of there. Since it was my first time it took a little longer, but I was done with the entire process in a little over 20 minutes.
I said earlier that the waiting could be difficult. And it seems that most of the testing process involves waiting.
Now I have to wait again for a week before I get the results back. Those few minutes in the waiting room are nothing compared to the fears I’ve been facing since leaving the office.
I am afraid. Afraid that I may have my worst fears realized next week, that my life will inevitably be changed forever in just a matter of days.
I decided to get tested with the knowledge that I would put my process in the paper. I’m hoping it encourages others to do the right thing and go in themselves. But if you were to ask me now if I regret my decision, I can truly say that I have no idea.
I don’t know what’s going to happen or how I am going to deal with my results. I keep telling myself that millions of people have gone through this process. They all say the waiting for the answers is the worst part. I can now agree with them.
This isn’t fun. This is scary. It’s not just another article. It’s my life on the line. There is no way I’d thought I’d be facing these fears. But no one says being an adult is fun, or that it’s free of worries. My comfort comes from knowing that I am being responsible, that I’m doing the right thing. And regardless of the outcome, I am going to have a family that loves me and friends that support me.