Tuesday, October 23, 2012

October is breast cancer awareness month!

I had my very first ever mammogram today. I have been sweating this day for the past several years and actually avoided the script written by my doctor last year. Why you ask? Well, I didn't want my titties squished in a cold vise to the point of splitting like a delicate grape. No, no, no. My girls have been a very large part of my life (and extension of my personality) for a great many years and did not want to stick them in a machine that could possibly mash them to a pulp. I have always been a supporter of breast cancer awareness and saw an add for Broward Medical promoting the annual Mammopoluza. This is how I arrived to this day, this morning, at the Women's Center getting my boobies pinched in a vise. 

I drove right to the building and parked the car. I didn't see many other cars there but then it was the ass crack of dawn since I had to do this before work. This observation, the very few cars in the lot one, immediately made me think, "Oh goodie! I am in the wrong place. Oops! Now I have to reschedule to never." Well my guilt and horrible thoughts of my boobies being taken from me forced me out of the car and into the building. Up the elevator I went and right to the door. Deep breath. Turn the handle. 

The office was decorated in pink flowers, pink balloons, pink gift bags, pink everything! I was instantly in love with all the pink!!! The receptionist was even dressed in a gorgeous pink patterned dress and had a brilliant hot pink smile. Wow! I signed in, yadda yadda, and sat to wait for my turn in the knocker torture device. Then my name was called. I almost bolted for the exit. But the xray tech was a sweet older lady that didn't seem to have a mean bone in her body. She smiled at the horror on my face and said, "First time?" I nodded and she patted my arm reassuringly. I changed in to the robe and timidly entered the screening room not sure what to do. This sweet lady yanked open the robe, placed a couple band-aid thingys with metal nubs on my nipples, then steered me towards the machine. The machine. Oh my goodness I am standing in front of the machine. 

I blurted out, "Ok I am kinda freaked out this is going to hurt!" She was sweet enough to explain it's not anything near as bad as a root canal. Not helping...never had one! Then she asked if I have kids...yes is my reply and it was friggin' nearly 20 years ago! Ok, that's not good. Bam! She saw the tat on tit and said...not nearly as bad as the ink. Now I am starting to relax a bit. She grabs boob number one and maneuvers me into place then the vise descends. Holy crap! Here it comes...squished split grapes...no...I'm not ready. The machine stops, she turns a little dial, and tells me to hold my breath for a few seconds. Ok, I either have a high tolerance for discomfort or she didn't mash me hard enough. Three images for each girl and I am done. That wasn't bad at all. I think I'll do it again next year. As a matter of fact I know I will. Why? During mammopoluza at Broward Health you get gifts! 

Grandma's chocolate chip cookies (nom nom nom), a guide to self breast exam (ok whatever), a lipstick pen (cute), and the sweetest little Vera Bradley coin purse that I immediately put to use. On the flip side of the coin purse there is an ID window so I stuffed my work badge in there...no you can't see it! On the key ring I fastened the key to my file cabinet and the blue tassel I got as a marketing gimmick a year or two ago. I like the color so I kept it. 


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