I got my first mammogram twenty years ago when I was preparing for breast reduction surgery. I was a EE cup back then. I have distinct memories of that mammogram -- so with a B cup now, they're not so bad. Does that mean I sought them out just for giggles? Hell no! In fact, I made a face at my gynecologist last year when she said, "You're 40! That means you get to start having annual mammograms!" She was cheerful and stuff about it. I was like, "Eh."
So this was my second annual. I had scheduled it at a different clinic than I went to last year because they had the earliest available date. I was cursing that a bit because the clinic is five miles away and it took twenty minutes to get there with morning traffic that was trying to navigate new snow and people that still don't understand they are supposed to YIELD when traffic is coming from your left in the roundabout.
Anyway, I was expecting the same kind of set up as the other clinic because they're all within the same system. I was prepared for a dressing room with brighter florescent lighting than a department store dressing room so that I know I definitely do not want to look in the mirror.
Instead, my radiologist led me to her room with dim lighting and a burbling zen fountain in the counter. I chuckled to myself. I know the mood lighting is standard, but I appreciated the 'calming' noise of the fountain. I also noted the heating pad that was placed on the paddles with the robe I would wear thoughtfully placed on top so that I didn't get chilly.
She sat me down and asked me all the history questions they ask every single time -- which baffles me. Some of that stuff doesn't change. Whatever. When I answered yes to "Have you ever had surgery on one or both breasts?" and said "breast reduction", that opened up a whole new topic as my young radiologist shared that she, too, had a breast reduction and she proceeded to ask me about the technique they used in the olden days 20 years ago.
I wasn't offended, she is a health professional after all. But I really didn't need the chit chat in order to take my shirt off for her. If she felt that she needed to 'warm me up' in order to get some under the shirt action, I would have preferred a cosmo. The bottom line is that my insurance company is paying her a lot of money to fondle my breasts, so I'm going to get the most I can out of it.
She then stepped out while I changed into my robe and put the markers on my nipples. I really don't understand the robe, however. I mean, she's going to be tugging and pulling and manipulating my breasts. Isn't that way more intimate than just looking at them? So when she told me it was time, I just slipped out of the robe.
RT: Uhm. Okay. You only needed to take out the right breast.
SS: [looking at her]
RT: You're right. It only falls off anyway.
At that, we started to get down to business. That was when I remembered I hadn't shaved under my arms. Somehow, I was more self conscious about THAT. I decided to address the flinging off of the robe:
SS: I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just figured that you see breasts all day every day, I'm not showing you something you haven't seen before.
RT: [laughing] You're right! My husband is in the Service and he often brings guys home for dinner that have recently been stationed at the base. Inevitably they will ask me what I do for a living. He likes to answer for me, "She has the best job in the world! She gets to play with boobies all day long!"
SS: Yeah ... And you don't even have to get the women drunk first.
On a serious note: Go get it done. My boobies hurt for two days and that sucked. Better to have sore boobies once a year than not catching something that can be stopped before it goes too far.
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