Soooooooo…..had my first mammogram today.
I’ve heard the rumors about it being like slamming your boob between the lip of the toilet bowl and the seat. Yeah, it was worse. Good thing I wasn’t on my period and am kinda into S&M, ’cause that wasn’t cute. It’s not enough to put a floral Band-Aid pastie (complete with this weird metal nipple thingie) on me and put my breast JUST SO on the glass to squeeze it between two glass plates–there’s a HAND CRANK to squeeze it even tighter. AND I’m not supposed to move. So I’m standing there for what feels like a full minute with my breast squeezed tighter than Roseanne Barr’s ass in a pair of size 6 jeans, listening to this machine hum and beep while I just stand there praying for this to be done. Naturally, I have this open-faced robe on–which I was given the “courtesy” of a curtain to change behind. Defeating the purpose, much? I stand behind a curtain to change into something you’re gonna open up anyway.
That nurse thinks I’m kidding, but there had better be at least a Croissan’wich and an iris blossom waiting for me next year.