Mammary all alone in the moonlight...from Cats the musical - kind of

Touch me
It's so easy to leave me
All alone with the mammary
Of my boob in the press
If you touch me
You'll understand what misery is 

Look
A new pain has begun

Since it is Breast Cancer Awareness month I thought I would follow Beth's boob babble to encourage everyone to get their mammogram. If I did this right this link should take you to her post if you haven't read it yet. http://realfriendsrealfoodreallife.blogspot.com/2013/10/its-october.html

THE MAMMOGRAM

Ah, the mammogram...nothing quite like it. I remember women telling me that it hurt... a lot. Eh, pain and I are very intimate - I can handle it. Really, how bad can it be?

So, I get there and change into the lovely hospital gown. Why you wear a gown is beyond me. I guess they think it preserves some of your modesty. No. Not really because in mere moments your gown will be most of the way off and your boob will be served up on a platter.

The technician physically takes your boob and ever so gently places it on the press. Then she adjusts the boob on the press until she's satisfied that it is in the right place. Then she hits the crank. Your boob is now in a vice. Here's how the conversation goes from there:

Tech: OK, you are going to feel some discomfort.

Me: I'm already feeling discomfort so I think we're good.

Tech now working the crank again.

Me in my head (MIMH): Oh my gawd, Oh my gawd, Oh my gawd,Oh my gawd!

Tech: OK, almost there, a few more cranks should do it.

MIMH: A few more cranks and you will have my lung in the press.

Tech: OK, I'm going to take the image now. I need you to hold your breath and don't move.

MIMH: If I moved which clearly I can't do, my boob will tear off.

A side note: In medieval times they had an instrument of torture called the breast ripper. I believe the device used today for mammograms was based on this instrument. Look it up, I'm sure I'm almost right about that.

Tech takes the image and then magically releases the press.

I cannot describe the sheer bliss that overcomes you when she releases that press. But then it hits you, "Oh my gawd I have 2 boobs!"

Tech: OK, we need to get another angle.

Me: We what?

Tech: Yes, we need another image but from a different angle.

MIMH: Of course we do.

Tech has you go through several contortions and then gently places boob on the ripper, I mean plate. Why she is being gentle, I don't know.

Tech: You will feel some discomfort.

MIMH: "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

Discomfort: an inconvenience, distress, or mild pain. She is definitely not using the proper word. Inconceivable!

Tech cranks, and cranks, and cranks, and cranks. Breathing becomes difficult. Tech takes image.

MIMH: "Oh my gawd I have 2 boobs!"

Me: You know, my boobs are practically similar - I think just the one should be sufficient.

Apparently not.

Tech: OK, let me just look at these images to make sure they turned out right and then you can go.

Me; What? They might not have turned out? Should I have smiled? Please, please, please tell me they are OK.

Tech: We're good! See you next year!

So, the moral of the story: Mammograms are a bitch but breast cancer is worse. Git 'er done! Or should I say, "Git 'em done!"