LOVE THOSE MAMMOGRAMS!

I had my yearly MAMMO scheduled for this past March.  Turned out it was during Spring Break.  I cancelled it.

When I told my doctor a few weeks ago that, no, I hadn't had my yearly MAMMO,  she said, WHYTHEHELLNOT?

So, I scheduled the MAMMO immediately, feeling like I had failed my doctor's expectations of me.  That she would no longer want me for a patient if I couldn't follow her instructions.  She's been my doctor for 18 years, and she knows that I know I should have obeyed.

I was able to get an appointment quickly, and I showed up 5 hours early to make sure I made my doctor proud.

All went well, or so I thought.  I exposed myself as requested.  I didn't fuss or complain when the technician said I'm just going to flatten this baby a little bit more, you might feel a little discomfort.  And when I was told DON'T BREATHE.  I did NOT breathe.  Who would?

Then, five days later, I get the "call back", saying that there was "just a little something they needed to look at", and I was to go to another, super-duper, MAMMO place to have it done.  And I was to go THAT day, and they had already scheduled my appointment.  I think I just said, Huh?

DAUGHTER went with me, for fun, and in case they asked if I had an adult with me.  Yes I did.

"They", the super-duper MAMMO people, were very, very nice.  They talked in soft voices, said thank-you-so-much a lot, and told me what to take off and what to put on.  And they made sure that I knew how the little pink flowered cape was supposed to work (it opens in the front!). Then, I had another, different, sort of  MAMMO, in a dimly lit room.  Again, I was told to face this way, look this way, suck this in, flop this here, move this there, tilt your chin up, move your shoulder here, hold on to this, smile, and DON'T BREATHE.  Got it.

After that, I was escorted to a "holding pen" with light blue walls and Dr. Phil playing on the flat-screen.  Other women in my same state of amusement, stress, frustration were there.  And as my friend, B, pointed out, WHY is it that some women feel compelled to talk to everyone else in the little "holding pen".  Do we really have anything to say to each other at that point?  We're all naked under our little pink flowered capes.  We all have our clothes with us, waiting for "the word".

However, some women had put their clothes on hangers, I noticed.  I just wadded mine up in a ball and used them as a prop for my book.  Considering where I was, I wasn't too worried about wrinkles, plus they provided coverage for any little gaps in my little pink flowered cape.  A 700 year old woman sitting beside me reminded me that there were hangers available.  I just smiled and said thanks but I thought it was too late.

So after about six more hours, one of the soft-speaking people called me out of the "holding pen" and told me that, once again, "there was just a little something they needed to look at", and that someone would come get me soon for a sonogram.  Annnnndddddd, another soft-speaker, LIM came to get me, told me to grab my wadded up ball of clothes and follow her.  And I did.  She asked me how I was doing as we walked.  I said, oh just fine thanks.

This time, I got to lay down.  And I exposed myself again, only one breast this time.  LIM asked me if I was cold.  I said yes can I cover back up?  She thought that was really funny.  She squirted way too much ice-cold sonogram gel on my one exposed breast, said oops, and asked if it had gotten on my face.  Trying not to complain, I said oh that's ok, I'll just rub it in.

During, the fifteen minutes of her moving the magic wand around on my cold, now gooey, naked boob, she kept making "hum" sounds.  I finally asked LIM if something was going on.  She said well I need to get somebody else to help.  SERIOUSLY.  THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID.  So she opened the door and shouted into the hallway, HEY DEBRA, CAN YOU COME IN HERE AND LOOK AT THIS?

I assumed DEBRA was called in to look at some strange deformity or growth on my cold, exposed breast.  I wondered how I had missed it.  I finally asked LIM and DEBRA to fill me in please.  They thought that was funny too.  Debra, apparently, was called in to look at some computer glitch that had been causing problems all day.  LIM could have told me that ahead of time, don't you think?

I was eventually told that nothing was cause for IMMEDIATE concern and my doctor would receive the reports and contact me.  And I got the all-clear-go-ahead-and-get-dressed-in-your-wadded-up-wrinkled-clothes directive.

It was the strangest experience, and I've had a few strange experiences.  I was glad I had a broad, warped sense of humor.

So, sisters, get your MAMMO!  You might have just as much fun!