A few weeks ago I had my annual physical and examination of all things girly. I am happy to report that so far, I am a picture of health.
BUT, because my paternal grandmother died way too young of breast cancer, and I have fibrocystic, or "dense tissue" breasts (more than you wanted to know, huh?), my doctor wanted me to get a baseline mammogram.
Yesterday was the day that I finally arranged childcare for the four young men (an ordeal worse than the mammogram itself) and made my way to the hospital for a full digital image mammogram.
This was what I feared might face me:
Wait, is that my husband? No, but I'm surprised he didn't think of that first.
Let me put some of the rumors that you might have heard to rest:
Yes, the machine squeezes the mammies into a shape closely resembling a pancake, but it DID NOT hurt. (I didn't personally see much change in mine thanks to nursing four babies!)
The machine does NOT use cold metal plates.
The plastic components were warmer and more comfortable than I thought they would be. Other than awkward positions that made me feel like the preparation should be a couple of yoga classes, it really wasn't bad.
Also, I must mention the wonderful technician... who was sensitive to the fact that I was standing half naked in the middle of a room, AND acted so casually about handling my personal body parts, it was like an elbow to her - no big deal (which made me feel as comfortable as possible).
One down - hopefully it will be another six years before I have many, many more uneventful whammies.