I know breast cancer awareness month is in October, but I always pride myself on being early for things. And I know there have probably been numerous articles about how horrible a mammogram is, but Scott didn’t understand the horror I went through yesterday, so I am reaching out to you, my readers with boobies, and maybe even my male readers who have boobies.
I had my yearly yesterday. A mammogram is an exercise that even though performed numerous times, is still shocking every time you do it. –Please insert your own dirty joke here-
So I go in for my 2:00pm appointment, wait in the depressing looking room with old magazines, a room that looks like it’s the one they put you in to tell you they found something. There really should be research done as to why every doctor’s office, no matter the type of doctor, has the ugliest wallpaper ever! Why can’t the office be pretty so at least you can remember the pretty paper if you get bad news. Anyways, I am reading a magazine so old that Tom and Katie look happy, and by 2:50 they call me to get changed into my robe. I then proceed to sit in the room with said robe that I can’t make look fashionable with my outfit. I am in there for so long, at least another 40 minutes, that I fall asleep; and when the doctor comes in, my boob is already hanging out, ready for its close-up.
She feels all around and tells me it feels good, (I think that means they are healthy), then walks me down to another section where I wait again to get the actual mammogram. Fifteen minutes later a woman calls me in. “Remove your robe and walk towards me.” Now if I had a nickel for every time I heard that, I would have at least $2.25. “No, hello?” I say to myself. “I see you have saline implants. Turn to the right,” Was she judging me? Isn’t she going to ask why I have the implants? Maybe I have a good reason. Like, after kids they looked like deflated ski slopes and I developed a condition called CANT FILL OUT CUTE TOPS. Why doesn’t she care? The fun thing about a mammogram with implants is that they pull the skin in front of the implant and smush it under the machine as you are ordered to grab onto a handle bar. I imagine this is what a Fifty Shades of Grey mammogram would be like.
So eight pictures later and no sense of intimacy with my technician, I go back to wait for the doctor to review my film. I have now been there for two hours!! In this horrible robe!
Finally, I see the film of my healthy boobies. “Let’s do an ultrasound in six months,” she says. “Can’t wait! Can I bring my own robe?”
*Helpful tip: I am sure you now want to make your own mammogram appointment. I always make my important appointments around my birthday so I won’t forget. Unpleasant, but so important!!