Mammogram

For those of you who have not had the pleasure of a mammogram.. just wait, for those of you who have, I'm sure you can relate.

As I am not 40 yet I had not really thought about the actual act of the mammogram until early this week, when my doctor suggested I have one due to some lumps I had found. I have fiber cystic breasts and have felt lumps since 1999, however; they seemed to be spreading and I found some new ones and was concerned. So on Monday my doctor in a very enthusiastic tone, said "YAY, you are over 30 I can order a mammogram for you." *joy*

I didn't sleep much Monday night, not so much nervous about the test itself, I was nervous about the fact I couldn't wear deodorant for the day, or perfume, or powder, or lotion, or anything to cover any potential body odor I may drudge up during the course of my day since my appointment wasn't until 1:45. Any lotions, deodorants, or powders can show up on the x-ray. I'm a big a woman, I sweat sometimes, I was scared for whoever had to perform my mammogram I may knock them out with a stench unknown to man! So I made sure to put my deodorant in my purse, wore a shirt and sweater so I could spray my sweater with perfume and it wouldn't touch my skin, and also made sure I extra scrubbed my pits in the shower that morning.

As I arrive at my appointment they tell you to put on this little half gown that barely covers the girls, let alone my ample figure, and wait for them to call you back. So I wait, now not only self conscious of my body odor (which I didn't notice any but was still nervous) but also self-conscious about my fat rolls hanging out everywhere, and starting to get nervous about the mammogram itself. So this very sweet technician (thank GOD she was nice) calls me back and proceeds to explain what she is going to do. Take x-rays of the breasts using this innocuous looking machine. OK, no problem, I can handle this. So she tells me to untie my shirt, which I do and then she puts band aids over my nipples. I wasn't expecting that, no one tells you they are going to put band aids over your nipples. However, the band aids have little metal dots on them. This is to give the doctor looking at your x-ray an idea of the shape of your breast.

So she tells me to stand in front of the machine facing forward left arm up as we are working on the left girl and this is when I realize, OMG I really need to lose, weight, or have a reduction, or an augmentation, or something, well actually I realized it somewhat when she put the band aids on as she had to look down to find them. ANYWHO, she handles my mammies like a ball of dough, pliable, moving it whichever way necessary to get it to lay on the shelf the way needed them to, molding, kneading, I had to laugh to myself, "Welp, I'll never handle bread dough the same way again." She gets me all lined up, and then the horror begins. This flat, flat, did I mention flat panel comes down on top of your tender part and well flattens it out onto the shelf. Oh did I mention I was well endowed? And well the machine presses down so far and you think, "Oh this isn't so bad." Until you notice the little knob on the side to which she starts turning, and your mammies get flatter, and flatter, and the skin pulls a little tighter, and you think "Well this stings a little." AND THEN she says "OK, don't move, don't breath. Hold your breath." and walks behind her little wall to press the button. "DON'T BREATH?????" "REALLY!!!" OK, so usually you breath through pain, but nope, no breathing. Really though that part isn't so bad. So the left one gets smashed three times, the right one twice. She says "Wait here while I develop these and you need to have a sonogram done on your arm pits since you found lumps there."

So I go have the sonogram done on my armpits. This time a very nice gentleman who asks if I would like a chaperon. In my mind I'm thinking, "Really? I'm sure there are much hotter woman you would rather molest than me." So I say "No I'm good." And 15 minutes and slimy armpits later I'm done.

So the very sweet mammy kneading torture queen comes to find me to say the doctor found an area on the left side he is concerned about and would like another picture done. I say "OK" and walk back to the mammography room. She proceeds to take the flat panel off the machine and puts on one that looks like the underside of a cup holder for in your car. Like I could have put my cup of coffee in the top, only it wasn't the top that was going to be smashing my breast, it was the bottom part. She looks at me and says, " This one has the paddle on it to spread the tissue out further to get a better look." I looked at her and said "Ya, that one looks a little more dangerous." She laughed and proceeded to position the breast on the shelf like before. I was actually a little more nervous this time. That "paddle", "cup holder of death" whatever you want to call it, was a little intimidating. So she gets me all lined up and then the smashing begins. No, not smashing, imagine a ball of dough, take the bottom of a glass and smash it against that ball of dough, then make sure to press just a little harder in one area of the ball of dough to ensure you have it smashed out correctly, and proceed to tell the ball of dough to not move or breath while you run to your little wall to take a picture of that ball of dough. Ya, it was something like that..

So after that she says "Let me run this to the doc for another look." So I've decided to walk it off and not "have a seat" as she suggested, and walk around the room. Waiting... Waiting.... Waiting... She comes back, with a sinister look on her face, SINISTER I TELL YOU, and says, "I'm sorry but the doctor sees another area he would like a shot of." REALLY!!! With the "cone of death" you mean? So I pony up to the shelf yet again this time it's a little closer to the end of the breast. She proceeds to knead, I mean position my now tender and fragile mammy, and then the decent of the "paddle of doom" onto my already sore and probably never going to be the same breast..... again. Then comes the knob, then hold your breath, don't move. I have to say by this point that did pinch a little. And done! Whew, I think by now the worry about sweating and having body odor had gone out the window because, my brow was a bit moist, my muscles a bit tense, and my underarms could care less.

So we go through the same wait game, this time, I sit, there was no "walking off the pain" and for what seems like an eternity, she comes in to say that he still sees a dense area, and would like a sonogram done on that area. So we go back to the sonogram room with the male technician who this time does not ask if I need a chaperon as the "wicked breast torture queen" stayed anyway, and proceeds to perform the sonogram on my breast. Never thought a sonogram could hurt before. But my already tender, tortured, flattened, and had decided to give up breast, hurt a little in all this moving of the probe around it. And let me just say that warm sonogram gel, on sore, does not equal pleasant.

So finally the doctor evaluates all the information and sees that there is nothing wrong. Praise the Lord for that. 2 hours, 7 x-rays and 2 sonograms later, and I do not have Breast Cancer. Which is a good thing. I do however, 2 days later have tender breasts, but a higher appreciation for those who have to do this yearly, and for those fighting and surviving breast cancer. I am thankful the doctors did all that work to ensure that I was OK. Though funny and painful, it is a great blessing. And I decided to share this for those of you who have not quite had the pleasure of a mammogram and to remind you all to do your monthly breast examinations. If you find anything you are unsure about, contact your doctor immediately! Only you can catch it first, be proactive in your health care and mark my words, WATCH OUT FOR THE PADDLE!!!!!