I tend to just put myself out there when I write. Sometimes it works for me, other times it doesn’t. Today I’m going to put myself WAY out there, so if you’re the type who gets uncomfortable reading about “woman things” then just move on to another blog.
When I turned 35, I had a very special rite of passage. You see, when every woman on your mother’s side of the family has either had breast cancer or a lumpectomy, doctors recommend that at 35 you have a baseline mammogram done. A baseline mammogram is basically a picture of your girls while they’re still good (if you know what I mean).
So “the girls” and I mustered up our nerve and strode into the radiology department dreading what would come next. (My mother and grandmother were both too modest to discuss this with me before I went in. That’s why I’m going to give you the benefit of knowing what I didn’t!)
So it was standard doctor’s office stuff. They showed me to a chilly room. I can’t criticize them for it though. After all, they did have a small space heater running to warm up the joint. (I know my sisters out there all know about the cold doctor’s offices!) I was given one of those gowns that we all love and wish we could buy at Victoria’s Secret.
You know the one, where you’re either flashing or mooning and there are no strings to tie that baby together. I was instructed to strip from the waist up and put on the gown with the opening in the front. No problem. The girls and I are a little more nervous though because we can see the mammo-monster, a large machine made of metal and glass that just looks like it would be cold on a hot day.
Then we wait for the person who will administer this torture that women dare not discuss.
Finally, a nurse walks in. She seems a little nervous. I can understand. Even if she is happy to be there, the last thing she wants to do is smile and say to a patient:
“Good morning! I’m the person who is going to treat your girls the way they were never meant to be treated and press them between glass plates!”
I mean, really! Who would respond positively to that?
So I try to let her off the hook and put on my cheerful face. We make small talk while she fires up the mammo-monster. What happens next is not at all what I’m expecting. I never expected anything so positively funny in all my life!
I have to stand on a line on the floor, put one of the girls on a glass plate, lean into it, then stand on one foot and breathe normally as another glass plate sandwiches my girl! Mind you, I have to hold up the gown which is hanging off one shoulder now. I had to choose between balancing with my free arm and modestly holding the gown over the non-sandwiched girl.
Ladies, when somebody has your left girl in a death grip between two glass plates, you can pretty much forget about modesty! I basically said the same to the nurse and dropped the gown altogether. We had a good chuckle over the futility of the gown. Then we moved on to the next position. You see, they’ll want to look at your girls from the top, bottom and sides and all of this takes some interesting dance steps. From the time I dropped my gown, I laughed, giggled, chuckled and laughed some more. It wasn’t embarrassing, demeaning, insulting or painful. (OK, it isn’t painful but you will wince a little. There is some uncomfortable pressure at times.) But it was just a group of pictures that needed to be taken so that a fatal disease can be detected early and, hopefully, avoided.
The time passed very quickly with all the balancing, leaning and laughing. When the nurse left the room to let me get dressed, I’d realized why so many women are afraid of having mammograms: nobody will talk about it!
Well, sisters, it is high time we threw modesty aside and talked about something that can save our lives! A mammogram isn’t “that unspeakable procedure”. If you’ve ever had a child, a mammogram is a piece of cake! Heck! If you’ve ever had a pelvic exam, a mammogram is a piece of cake! Don’t be afraid of it. Talk to your mothers, daughters, sisters and friends about it. It could save your life or even theirs.
No fear, sisters! NO FEAR! And just keep laughing!