In January, like most bitches, I decided to go back to the gym. I was really quite proud of myself. Finally, after months and years of being completely sedentary, I found the strength within myself to get back to my former athletic and fit self. At first, it was difficult to fight through the carbs and alcohol that I had exclusively consumed for so long, but after the first couple weeks, the errand of the gym became a habit, and even something I looked forward to. I lost weight and gained more energy. And also picked myself up an STD.
After a month or so at the gym, I noticed a few bumps on the inside of my leg. I brushed them off as razor burn at first, but they weren’t going away. I made my roommates look at them (we are very close), and they also brushed it off as nothing. But as time went on, the bumps got bigger. I tried popping one, but it made more appear. They grew overtime and suddenly they had taken over my whole crotch, for a lack of a better term. That’s when I started to panic. I started running a list through my head of all the scummy guys I had been with recently, but it didn’t make sense for them to show up now. It was too long of a time gap. I pushed the question of who aside and focused on the question of what. As in what the fucking fuck is on my leg???
I locked myself in my room and spent hours on the internet trying to figure out what it was. I couldn’t bare the thought of going to a doctor and looking them in the face and having them tell me what was going on, so I figured the best way to find out was from strangers on the internet. I immediately googled herpes and clicked images, then shielded my eyes in terror. Luckily, it did not match what I had going on downstairs. Then I searched genital warts images and, again, shuddered at what I saw. It was similar to what I had, but not exactly. Then I searched a string of words that described my symptoms, which were nothing but visible bumps, and narrowed it down to HPV or something called molluscum contagiosum. Both awful, but molluscum was treatable. The bad news was I had to go to a doctor to get anything fixed.
I hyperventilated thinking about having genital warts. I got that Gardisil shot so how could this be possible? How will I deal with breakouts? When do I have to tell people about this? Does this make me a skank? Instead of sitting in my cloud of despair, my roommates convinced me to go to a doctor. Thankfully, I had molluscum contagiosum and the dermatologist was able to cut them out. But I still was in disbelief that someone gave me an STD.
I looked into it more, just so I could better understand what was going on. It’s a virus related to pox and it transferred by skin to skin contact or sharing things like towels or clothes. Since I knew in my heart it wasn’t from sex, I had to understand why this happened to me. Then, by some divine intervention, I stumbled upon a website that stated that molluscum is often found in “women who frequently used gym bikes.” That was me! I frequently use gym bikes! I’m not totally disgusting! A wave of relief rushed over me as I was resolved of the guilt of fucking around too much.
The moral of the story here is to believe in yourself. If you know that something isn’t right, go to a doctor and find a solution. And never, under any circumstances, go to the fucking gym..