Boobie Trap

I hesitated talking about this.  Some things may be too personal for this here blog.  However, I'm running with a group of friends who are about my age.  I thought I would take the plunge and get that first mammogram.  I wanted to reassure my friends that this was a necessary milestone to go through.  Myself, I about fell off the table at my yearly exam last summer, when my woman doctor told me it was time for my first mammogram this summer.  It made me feel old. 

Some hospitals offer an incentive, like a limo ride for your trip to your mammogram.  Not my hospital. I rolled up classy in the Nugget Wagon with my entourage.  Frick was still dressed in her pajamas and bathrobe and refused to have her picture taken.  Sometimes, you pick the battles, and pjs and robe were fine, just GET IN THE CAR. 

If you know me, you know that I can be very quiet.  Unless, I'm nervous.  Then I chitter-chatter non-stop, asking dumb questions and saying ignorant, rambling things.  I must have been more nervous than I realized.  Before I know it, I had broken the ice with the tech, and I was taking pictures of my first boob smashing.  I'm not really sure there is ice to break because you can't help but talk to the person manhandling your girls onto a cold plate. 

The boobie trap.

The tech walked me through the entire process, gave me a stylish pink paper vest, and started the festivities.  I was a little timid about letting everything hang out, but since the tech is a professional, she didn't have time for shyness.  She placed, stretched, rolled, positioned me in a blink of an eye.  It was uncomfortable but it didn't last long.  She was kind enough to let me see the screen and explain what was being seen.  We had to repeat the process on the other side, and then in a slanted position for each side again.

Miss Photogenic, right side.  (Impressive, isn't it?)

It took a total of twenty minutes which included me taking pictures and asking questions.  Afterwards, I did ask for a sticker.  I feel it is important to make it rewarding in some manner.  There isn't any intrinsic value to be had for smooshing your boobies with a total stranger.  You need something tangible.  Even a picture of Daniel Craig to look at would be some kind of reward.  Instead of peaceful sheep in a meadow, you could at least imagine a scene where you are saying, "Oh, Daniel, you are being too rough.  I'm a gentle flower."  At least, that is how my thoughts run.

Peaceful scene to focus on.



What we need to focus on.
(Is he tall?  I hope not.  I really prefer shortness.)



Have you had your mammogram, yet?  I don't have a limo, but I will roll you up in the Nugget Wagon if you want to schedule an appointment.