Yesterday was my one year anniversary of my blog…and I forgot! I had more important things to do, actually, but still. Happy Anniversary to Me!
This is going to be one of those posts that you wonder if you should write…and you think maybe not, but then…somebody has to be the one to warn others! And so, if you're a guy, you may want to skip this post. Ladies, read on!
Two weeks ago, I went in for my yearlies. You know, all of the yearly things that women have to do to make sure they are maintaining their health? Part of me is thinking maybe I shouldn't have, but…
Part of my *yearlies* is to now get a mammogram. Apparently, once you're over 40, you just have to have it done. I remember having one at 21 and thinking it wasn't so bad. At 21, I hadn't read all of the horror stories about what a woman goes through for one of these tests and I stayed *innocent* for years.
I remember reading comical stories about what women go through and laughed.
So, last week, I went for my turn. While I was baring myself and good-naturedly complaining, I was reminded by the lovely technician to think of this test as a good thing; it's good to know that there is nothing wrong when there isn't; and if there is, well, at least they will find it. Yeah, OK. I went on to be pinched and pulled, flattened and stretched, hold your breath and all of that good stuff, but it really wasn't near as bad as the stories would have you to think.
Until they call you until you that something is there. But don't worry, they're not saying it's this and they're not saying it's that, they're just saying it's something that needs to be looked at closer.
Notice the word: closer.
For all of you ladies who have escaped having a *closer look,* you may now stop complaining. Because closer look means just that.
This time, it meant going into an ICE COLD room. The machine looks the same; is, in fact, the same machine. So I ask the lovely technician, "What is it going to see this time that it couldn't see the last time?…and why is the room so much colder this time around?"
She replies that they will magnify the image in a certain spot this time. That's all she says.
And then, she makes you stand even closer. And you gasp, because the machine is F-R-E-E-Z-I-N-G.
And she pulls and stretches and flattens you. Like a pancake.
And then, she flattens you more. Like a piece of paper!
And you can not possibly breathe. She tells you to hold your breath. Hello? I'm already doing that! And you keep holding it. And keep holding it. Until you think you're going to pass out.
Finally, she lets you loose.
And as you're gasping for air, she turns the machine to a different angle, and starts all over again.
"I don't remember it being this painful the last time."
"Oh, well, that's because this time, we need to get a really close look. It does hurt a bit."
Well, no, you don't get to think, because by this time, she's grabbed you again and has started the mauling process all over again.
You stop breathing again, but you're afraid to swoon, because, if you pass out, you might fall, and that would be really bad since you're still connected to the machine.
Finally, after three of these episodes, she informed me that she was done. I was ecstatic! I was outta there!
Because, you see, when you have to go back the second time, they lead you back out to a little freezing cold waiting room, where you sit with other freezing cold women. And you have to stay there until the radiologist looks at the images and decides if you have to go back in for an even closer look or if you'll be allowed to escape go home.
I haven't prayed quite so hard in a while.
It worked, though. Because after 15 more minutes of waiting, I was given my freedom. I don't think I've ever dressed so fast or left a building so quickly! I'm still sore!
All I have to say is this:
Regular mammograms are nothing compared to the *closer look* mammograms! That's where the real stories are!