Three Little...Dildo's?

DISCLAIMER: Not to be read if you are faint of heart, prudish, embarrass easily.

It's been 5 weeks (today) since Radiation has ended. I have legitimately been thanking my "lucky" stars that this nightmare has finally come to a close. My vag has basically completely healed (Hallelujah) and aside from the few weeks of looking (and feeling...ohhhhh the itching...) as if I contracted the Herp, it's been a hell of a lot easier then when I was actually going through treatment.

My most recent CT/PET's came out fine - there was no new disease and no change in existing lung masses. For the next few months until my next round of scans, I can hopefully try to live as happily and distant from this stupid fucking disease as possible.

I am now able to be with my boyfriend full time. I have been able to help out with our new house as much as possible (although I'm waiting for the fun parts like decorating...). I have been taking walks around our new and incredibly scenic and relaxing neighborhood, which has included the befriending of some fuzzy characters down the street:

 

All in all, I think things are moving in a much more positive direction. Everything except for my new and arguably unimproved vagina. To be blunt, I have the vag of a 12 year old again. Nothing is getting in that thing - especially not my boyfriend.

Radiation apparently tightens and shrinks your vag canal as well as causes scar tissue to form up in there. In order for you to be able to stretch yourself out again, you get the pleasure of having your doctor and nurses give you a "dilator" (or 3). It's a hard, plastic dildo. I refuse to call it a "dilator".

Due to privacy and shame no longer being words used in my vocabulary, I asked for all three sizes. You have to start somewhere, right?

My doctor came back with a nicely packaged bag with these guys in there:

They look harmless until you take them out and notice the size differences.

I think it'll take quite some time to increase from small to medium to large. In the meantime, lucky me gets to use this for at least 10 minutes every day until I can somewhat feel like myself again. You even get an instructional manual of sorts to explain "Home Care Instructions for the Insertion and Care of Your Vaginal Dilator".

Really.

Honestly, it's a damn good thing I've always been so vocally open and willing to talk about sex and poop and foreplay and embarrassing life stories and everything else under the sun. I can't even imagine living in this world I've come to know as my own if I wasn't so blasé about everything.

With that, I'll leave you with an embarrassing story that I can now laugh about (that doesn't include my vagina - for once) and wish it were only still things like this that I had to go through.

A few years back my mother and I took a lovely trip to Greece for two weeks. On one of the islands we had some free time and decided to get up early and hit the beach. Of course, Europeans are quite comfortable with strutting around topless and in banana hammocks. Because I loathe tan lines, I bravely exclaimed to my mom that I was going to go topless. We chose an umbrella covered spot with two chairs waaay down the beach where not a soul was in sight and I disrobed.

After a few minutes I decided that this was actually quite freeing in a way and I was excited that my tan would extend past the restraints of my bathing suit top. I closed my eyes and started to feel comfortable with my decision to let The Girls go rogue...until I was startled not two moments later when an old Greek man was hovering over me smiling, stating in his broken English that he had left his sunglasses under that very umbrella the day before. Horrified and grabbing my boobs I looked up. Low and behold a pair of sunglasses hung from the peak under the umbrella. Out of all the umbrella's on that beach, those sunglasses were hanging from mine. This is my life, people. I should probably just accept it by now.