Wednesday, February 24, 2010

The Big Squeeze (Redux)

[In honor of my recent visit to the local IHOP mammography facility, I decided to post this rerun today. Re-posting, I've heard, is a giant blogger no-no, and I understand why. It's the same reason people are bored with episodes of Gilligan's Island; there are just so many times a person can watch the Skipper and Gilligan sail for help on a raft, only to wind up back on the same island. However, in the wake of my recent blogging absence, I decided that something is better than nothing. And having a body part flattened to the thickness of a pancake is most definitely something, even if it is a re-dux. For the record, I'm pretty sure that you are better off re-reading this recycled post about my mammography experience than reading a brand new post about my recent colonoscopy--trust me. You and your Wheaties will be much happier. Apologies to those who may have seen this episode before. Signed, Cathy, aka Mary Ann.]

I had my annual mammogram this week. It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever done, but I would have preferred a root canal or maybe car trouble instead. In all fairness, the hospital does try to make everything as comfortable as possible, and they have a lovely waiting room with a soothing fountain and current magazines. They also issue you a luxurious robe to wear instead of the conventional hospital gown. But, the comfortable part ends there. After a few probing questions, the real fun starts when the technician positions the machine, hits the "squeeze 'til you cry" button, then ratchets it up one more notch. And then she says, "Now, hold right there." Ummm, at that moment, I'm fairly certain that I had no other choice--I have on no top, my clothes are in a room with a soothing fountain, and I'm being held hostage by the jaws of life. I did have to laugh though when the tech told me to relax; I told her that I thought she was really in more of a position for relaxing, and that I was taking care of the grimacing. All was over in about 10 minutes and then I was on my way.

Honestly, it's not that terrible. I have an aunt who is a breast cancer survivor, and have several friends who have been diagnosed recently. I know that early detection is the key. So I suppose it's a necessary part of life, and my husband says that it sounds way better than what they do at his annual exam, where he says that they do much more than ask probing questions.

Thursday, February 11, 2010