The number of young women diagnosed with cervical cancer is slowly on the rise as an increasing number choose to skip their smear tests. In January figures revealed that more than one million failed to attend screenings in the previous year. Worryingly this trend seems to be emerging in the younger generation, with the most no-shows falling in the 25-29 age bracket, according to Grazia - and it seems this lack of attendance is beginning to make its mark. There's barely a day that goes by that I don't read about another girl in her early twenties calling for the age that women are called in for a smear test to be lowered. I live in a region in which girls are asked to come in for a smear from 20 years old. I've received many letters and haven't acted upon this. This is after hearing about the low cervical cancer survival rates due to late diagnosis. I retweet cervical cancer awareness groups on Twitter. Yet, I've never been for a smear. When the letters arrive at my home, I open them, barely glance them and put them straight in the bin. I don't give them a second thought. High profile cases like Jade Goody have not made me think about it. I have a 'it won't happen to me' attitude. I know the symptoms, and I think I would at that point go and visit a GP. I don't like hospitals, doctors' surgeries or anything related to illness. I have suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder for as long as I have known. With my OCD, I have a fear of contamination. My anxiety heightens greatly if I am in situations where I am exposed to someone who is ill and GP surgeries aren't exactly full of healthy people. I have been trying to get over this fear as I had to get vaccinations for my travels last year to Southeast Asia. This meant numerous trips to the surgery. I need to get a booster jab and I haven't made an appointment for this. My OCD means that, to stop feeling the terrible anxiety I get around contamination, I avoid the situation completely. Clearly, in this situation, avoidance may be a life or death situation. I don't fear having an uncomfortable procedure. I have no issues. I know this is different for a lot of other people. Talking to my peers, going for a smear is a 'hassle'. Source: www.dailymail.co.uk
When Arnold ("You've got to help me remembuh. ") Schwarzenegger confronts his altered memories in the 1990 movie "Total Recall," what he thinks about his wife, his job, even his name, is wildly off-base. Most of you like to think you have total recall of your daily events, including how much you eat. think again. Self-reported dietary info turns out to be slipshod, particularly if you're overweight, as 70 percent of North American adults are. Source: www.houstonchronicle.com
Just because you’re ready to do grown-up things doesn’t mean you’re mature enough to handle the consequences. That’s the dilemma Minnie Goetze (Bel Powley) finds herself in when she falls for and sleeps with her mother’s (Kristen Wiig) boyfriend, Monroe (Alexander Skarsgård). But he’s only a part of her story. Minnie, like most kids her age, struggles with acceptance and finding her identity. Her open need for love and belonging is boldly laid bare in The Diary of a Teenage Girl. It’s only with great sensitivity on Powley’s part that the audience empathizes with the self-absorbed whims of a 15-year-old. Minnie jumps at the chance to be loved, all the more so since her mom and stepfather withheld affection. She’s also just coming into her own and discovering she likes sex. The film makes no harsh judgments for her actions. Instead, it lets Minnie find her sense of worth on her own, sans a life-altering event like a pregnancy. Likewise, The Diary of a Teenage Girl allows viewers to form their own opinions about Minnie’s character. Minnie’s immaturity isn’t rooted in any sort of malicious character flaw, but a general lack of experience. She’s convinced Monroe loves her more than her mother. We get a sense of her childlike naiveté mix and mingle with sexual fantasies through animated sequences of Minnie’s wacky inner world. She’s no saintly protagonist, but rather a refreshingly complex one who’s full of flaws, desires, needs and dreams. Likewise, her mother Charlotte will win no parenting awards this or any year. Expertly played by Wiig, she walks a fine line between cartoonish villain and a vessel for the audience’s sympathy. The single mother of two is in search of her own identity, leaving little capacity to support her daughters. Charlotte flounders much like Minnie, but with a neglectful air of rejected responsibilities. She too has been through her share of romantic mishaps, but none as large as the one Monroe carries on behind her back. Which brings us to the slimy boyfriend, who exploits Minnie’s insecurities and manipulates Charlotte. Monroe is a foul character, yet he’s played not for laughs or with exaggerated mustache-twirling, but as a stealthy creeper who seems to have a damaged past of his own. Skarsgård underplays his part so convincingly it’s easy to forget Monroe is a predator. His is perhaps the most ruinous role of the bunch, but director Marielle Heller gives Minnie agency as to how. Source: www.pastemagazine.com
The study was published June 27 in the journal Hypertension. "Our findings underscore an important issue that has been long ignored in clinical practice -- the fact that criteria for hypertension in pregnancy are derived from the general population," said ...
Short story, in diary form, about a woman who cooks grapefruit jam for her sister during her sister's pregnancy… December 29: My sister went to the M…