Just the Facts, Mammogram

That mammogram, that mammogram,I do not like that mammogram.

I do not like it on my tit,

I do not like it, not one bit.
Sorry. Obviously you know what I did today. My OB-GYN has been on me for a while to get my baseline, but fortunately I’ve been nursing. Now that the old milk factory has been shuttered for 15 months, there was no further stalling.  

I know it’s stupid, but I was totally stressing this. You hear stories, and while not all of them were horrible, many did not leave a girl feeling confident. And while I was sure that my enormous sense of dread was unfounded, I felt it anyway. I imagined what this would look and feel like: taking a fist-sized chunk of your body and slamming it- very very slowly- in the refrigerator door. I had Shark Week footage running through my mind: the slo-mo scenes of the great white’s gaping maw about to slam down on a sea lion. Only in this episode it wasn’t a sea lion.

This is probably why my blood pressure was like 974/365 when they took it before I saw my OB-GYN. She and I even laughed about it. She said she’d much rather get a mammogram than a Pap smear. And while getting a Pap smear isn’t the most pleasant way to while away a morning, once you forget to feel embarrassed it’s really no big deal. 

And what’s the deal with the damn nature murals on the walls in the exam rooms? “Oh. I was feeling nervous and uncomfortable until I saw this oversized photo of a babbling brook.”

 So from my OB’s office, I went straight to the imaging center to face the music. All the staff were quite good. But the experience? I liked it not.

I didn’t think it would really hurt, per se. I also didn’t think it would be pleasurable.  

So how would I describe it? It’s like playing three-dimensional Twister  with an Easter Island head. “Left boob green,” followed by a massive pile-on. The pressure is pretty damn intense. Meanwhile your body is held in a strange position with your face mashed against a plexiglass box. And the actual positioning of the boob itself is just off-putting. Pretend your boob is a tub of icing and the imaging plate is a chest-level chocolate cake. The technician sort of tries to spread your boob on this plate. But since your boob is waaaaaay more viscous than icing – and contained within a sac of skin, of course- it just doesn’t work out so well.

I survived, obviously. But I didn’t like it. And now I get to worry until I get my results, even though I’ve never actively worried about this before.

Philosophically I’m glad this type of testing exists. The summer I graduated with my bachelor’s degree, I found a lump on the left side between the boob and my armpit during a self-exam. I ended up having it removed, which was scary as hell at the time. It was benign- just an inflamed lymph node, but it could have been something and the fact that I caught it myself while it was small would have gone a long way. My boobs are now about 6 times bigger than they were then. I may not feel something if/when there’s a next time. But I must say I’m not excited about the idea of doing this once a year.


About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Just the Facts, Mammogram

  1. Cookie says:

    “I do not like it on my tit, I do not like it one bit”…..this had me cry laughing, seriously. Sorry to laugh at your misery, friend.

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