My Fight with Breast Cancer

I had my first mammogram today.  It wasn’t all that unpleasant.  I don’t know why, but for some reason, I really dressed for the occasion.  Not that putting on a nice outfit would sway the results in any way, but it just felt right (at least for the brief time until I had to take my clothes off and put on a very unflattering hospital gown.)  “Make sure it’s opens in the front” the nurse said.  What am I, an amateur?  Of course I know to have it open in the front!

I wasn’t disappointed.  Her hands were warm.  The technician guided me into the room and was very sweet and talkative.  I didn’t catch her name, which is a shame since I like to be able to recall the names of all the people who grope me.  Grope me?  More like mauled me.  She and that dreadful machine. 

Ms. Warm Hands had me stand before the machine while she prepared the film and made some adjustments.  Then I gracefully unveiled my offending orb and placed her delicately on the shelf of the x-ray machine.  Ms. Warm hands pushed me further into the machine (hey! No rough housing!) and then placed her hand on my boob to hold it in place while she mercilessly lowered the top panel.  Then she gave it a few sadistic hand cranks for good measure and told me to “hold still”.  Where else was I going to go?  She had my tit trapped in a vise grip.  I felt as helpless as an animal caught in a trap, although chewing it off wasn’t an option at that point.

After I was finished with the mammogram machine, I was guided into another room to have a proper ultrasound performed.  A new technician squirted some lubricant on my breast and began to move the wand back and forth.  It kind of tickled. 

When that was done, I wiped the excess goo off of my chest and stepped back into my nice clothes.  What a waste of a good outfit.