joy in the Mornings

I had a mammogram done this past week due to some suspicious lumps that had been found. The doctor’s order was that if the
radiologist saw anything that he felt needed further exploration, an
ultrasound would be done while I was still there.
I’m 36 and I know that most people would say that’s too young to be concerned with mammograms or breast cancer, but my first mammogram was done when I was 34 - for the same reasons. I don’t take chances and I take it seriously. I do regular self-exams and am willing to take the necessary time and effort to make sure things are okey-dokey.

So my appointment came and the tech squished and squashed my boobs until they were begging for mercy and felt like pancakes. The tech took the pictures to the
radiologist then came back to tell me I would be undergoing ultrasounds in a few minutes but first the radiologist wanted her to take a compression shot of my right breast.

This required her to take this spatula-looking thing, put it onto the machine, yank my book onto the picture field then proceed to press the spatula against my boob until it was completely flat.

During each mammogram photo (there were five total) I had to hold completely still and not breathe while standing somewhat awkwardly against the machine.

When I was allowed to breathe and could remove my bosoms from the machine, they now flopped around on my waist while I waited for them to reinflate and reorient themselves where they belonged up on my chest.

They then ushered me into a room where the ultrasound would be performed on both of the little puppies. The tech was very nice and she was young (at least she looked it to me).

I was relaxed and comfortable while I lay on the hospital bed. She finished the ultrasounds and told me to stay put, she was going to show them to the radiologist while I was still there. She came back a minute later and said the radiologist - a he - wanted to come in and have a look for himself.

Then she left for a bit and I had waaaaaay too much time to think.

I was first thinking that it made me nervous that now the radiologist wanted to come in and see for himself. I took that as a bad omen.

Then I began to chew on the fact that the radiologist was a man and would be looking over my bosoms. That started making me more nervous. Then I started thinking about who I knew that worked at the hospital.
I realized I didn’t know anyone who worked in radiology. My next thought moved to “Oh, please let this guy be an old ugly man.” It’s bad enough some strange guy’s going to be fiddling around on my boobs, but it’ll make me really nervous and disconcerted (not to mention self-conscious!) if he’s a young, good-looking guy.

Wouldn’t you know it? The guy walks in, shakes my hand and introduces himself and he’s around my age and kinda cute.

Crap - I’m really out of sorts now. Not that I’m making moves on some strange guy, but if he’d been an ugly toad I don’t think I would have been as nervous.

They should only hire ugly people to work in hospitals - you won’t be nearly as
embarrassed or uncomfortable if you have to get naked (even partially
so) in front of them.

Finally, he said everything looked fine - fibroids, cysts and an inflamed milk duct, but nothing that looked suspicious or needed concern.

So everything is fine and according to Mr. Radiologist, I’m good to go with my boobs until next year.

I have so much to look forward to!

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