Fun with the Girls
This week I had my first mammogram. It was an experience I was putting off as long as I could.
It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It was like going to a spa with a plush warm robe and relaxing music until the unnaturally squashing of things that like gentle caresses and the awkward way you contort your face and stomach presses against a cold machine or the handle naturally held with a death grip then there is the stranger manipulating your boob so it can say "Cheese". Besides all that, it was cake.
The waiting area was busy. There were kids, a man and an old lady waiting for some unfortunate soul. "Hey, Grandma, you want to get mammograms the same day?" No thanks. And what's up with bringing the kids or husband? How do you explain that one: "Don't worry, Johnny, Mommy is just having her fun bags squished and photographed by the doctor."
The receptionist called my name and I went to fill out the paper work. Not a clip board fill-in-the-blank paper to work on in the waiting room but I got my own latrine sized room with a door for privacy. Fancy. Not quite sure why the privacy, seeing that everyone unfortunate enough to venture to the second floor suite was there to get their boobies manhandled.
If I was a cat I'd be dead by now because my curiosity would get the better of me. Have you ever been curious to see what the doctors see? As soon as boob number one had the picture snapped with its acting debut I asked, "Can I see?" The technician graciously acquiesced.
What a strange sight to see inside the body. The semi-circle in shades of gray reminded me of a solar flare. Boy, I am hot. The next step was to switch sides and boobs. "Don't be shy, girl. It's your turn to shine. Blind us with your solar flare brightness. Now that's star quality!"
They have a separate exit that doesn't lead through the waiting room. Are they afraid someone is going to run through and scare potential victims, I mean, clients? "That machine froze my nipple off! I can't feel my mammaries!" If I had the opportunity, I would skip through because I'd be as happy as a hippie at bra burning: "I'm free!"
All awkwardness aside it was a quick visit. The staff was pleasant. Hey, they get to work with a bunch boobs all day. I was in and out in less than a half hour. In fact, I exited to the hallway where I stood for the moment and thought "WTH. Did that just happen?" Totally surreal.