This was no day at the spa.
I turned 40 last month and had my first mammogram to celebrate.
(I prefer a big fuck-off piece of cake and maybe some sparkling to go with it. Silly, I know.)
As much as it SUCKED, or SQUISHED, it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought, even with the added worry that this monstrous piece of machinery would cause my implants to explode.
(They didn't, as far as I can tell.)
The technician was very informative, and sensitive to my status as a Mammo-Virgin. She explained what would happen BEFORE she started kneading, pulling and molding my Girls into shapes breasts should NEVER be molded into.
As much as I would like to have expounded with witty prose about the rest of the experience from the mole and nipple markers that dotted my chest to the fact that I had the extreme pleasure of getting four scans of each boob (two in front of the implants and two behind them) all I can say is that I am glad it's over.
My results came back normal.
And while I personally like to think of them as spectacular, I will accept "normal" just this once.
3 comments:
Glad everything came back normal. I realize these hospitals are using decor to try and make an unpleasant situation better but enough with the pink and girly colors. (Can you imagine if you're the rare GUY who has breast cancer?)
I hate to tell you this but contact me in ten years. I'll tell you about the prep for what I called "The Fantastic Voyage: Down Under." With that, you also get a complimentary invitation to join AARP.
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Thanks for poosting this
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