December 8th, I'm 40. For some reason, I expected this to be a traumatic experience but it isn't. Just another birthday; I don't feel any different (and why should I, really?) The biggest thing about 40 is that it means now I have to go get a mammogram and golly, I can just hardly wait. I suppose when school is out for the summer, I'll get that little chore taken care of along with my annual ick (need I elaborate?) We'll just make the month of June a superfun time of year...
Well, here I am lending new meaning to the phrase, "Summer Fun". Not. Had my annual checkup last week and passed with flying colors; one down, one to go before I can finally relax and enjoy my summer. Sitting in the waiting room at the Women's Clinic, I seem to be the only one under the age of 80. Why? Do I really need a mammogram? I mean, I do the whole self-check deal every month in the shower and just had my annual checkup. Surely if anything was there that shouldn't be my gyn would have found it, right?
Oh, goody it's my turn - hope it doesn't hurt...
Tech seems nice; here's a gown, put this on with the opening to the front (well, duh - kinda makes you wonder how many people would put it on the other way, though, doesn't it?) You're not wearing any deodorant, are you? Is she kidding? Lady, this is the South and it's JUNE - of course I'm wearing deodorant! A box of baby wipes was given to me to correct this heinous error on my part, and then we were ready. Well, she was anyway (I had my doubts).
I'm just over 5'8" and most of it is legs (I spent a large number of years closely resembling a stork before I finally grew into them : ) Ordinarily, being somewhat tall is irrelevant with the exception of wardrobe issues (ever try to find a 6 long in pants??) and the ability to pull things from top shelves without a ladder. So why am I telling you this? Because it's relevant. The tech (who was about 5 feet nothing) leads me to the mammogram machine and explains how I'm to lay "it" on the little shelf, which will be a little cold - and why don't they just say it will feel like a slab of ice? If you've already had a mammogram, you know the drill. If you haven't, picture yourself hunched forward - chest out - boob on an icy slab - one arm up in the air - the other shoulder dropped down - and don't move. If I can actually achieve and hold this position, I wonder if it means I'm now eligible to join the circus as a contortionist?
Have you ever seen one of those pressing machines at the cleaners? They look sort of like two small ironing boards that you squish together and in a whoosh of steam, your pants are pressed perfectly flat with a nice deep crease. As the tech began to lower the top part down on my breast, that was the image that popped into my head (except for the steam). How is it that the top part is even colder than the bottom? Can you get frostbite doing this? HEY! Can you stop now? Geez lady, I'm going to have to install brackets underneath the paper thin shelf you're making there. Wow (and ow!) my boob is seriously flat; I think to myself were it not attached I could probably slide it under a door someplace...
Remember the height difference? Well, this put my freshly-flattened breast just above eye level for the technician. So there I stood, waiting, completely contorted, as the tech stood on her tiptoes periodically making a little bit of a jump to see better. mumbling about fibrous tissue and density as she squished it even further. Who are you calling dense, short stuff? I'm thinking you're not too bright yourself, or you would go get a stool to stand on. Twit. It's awfully hard to be diplomatic sometimes. Of course my thought process segued from the dry cleaner's to the eye doctors as she bounced up and down to see what she was doing...Better 1? Better 2? Better 1?... Finally, we were through. They'll let me know the results in a few days by letter, thank you ma'am and have a nice afternoon.
Thank goodness I only have to do this once a year...
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