We all have to do it.......that is, if we want to be proactive about our health. A monthly thorough self breast exam and getting a yearly mammogram are a must in today's way. Last week was my time to be checked as all of us need to do. It's our duty for our families, our kids and for ourselves. None of us looks forward to getting a mammogram, but it's one of those trials that are necessary. It doesn't matter whether breast cancer is or isn't in your family. The beast extends its reach to all facets of life - rich, poor, African American, Caucasian, Hispanic, Asian, mature women, young women, full-figured and slender ones, too. There is no discrimination to who this disease touches. Please make those appointments!
I found myself in sort of a weepy mood as all these routines seemed somewhat familiar as I entered the new doors of a breast cancer center only a few minutes from my home. The serene piano was playing, friendly faces greeting me as I entered the door, feelings of awkwardness.....it was an all too familiar scene.....one that brought me back to those visits with Chrissy and her chemo treatments. All sorts of thoughts played through my mind. Thinking about my sissy, her appointments, the waiting, the blood draws.......all that went with our journey was reminiscent in my mind with each part of the process. I sat there patiently as they asked all the same questions that I answered on the phone. Perhaps going over the details with a fine tooth comb is the process, but it was making me more anxious with each question. There has to be an easier, a more efficient, subtle way, other than asking the same questions repeatedly.
As I was being directed to that place, the room with the closet where you put on the hospital gown so that they can prop and pose your breasts in all sorts of directions, my heart began to race. "Oh please, get this over quickly", I whispered to myself. My heart is beating through my chest as I exchange my shirt for the gown with the open tied front. I try to think of a funny joke so that I don't let the tears that I'm holding in my throat begin to burst forward. "Take a deep breath"......."Be a big girl" (Chrissy's phrase)........"Focus on right here in the moment" I tell myself. After five minutes or so, which seemed like half an hour, here walks out a smiling, friendly sort of woman. She directs me to the dungeon and asks a "How are you today? Come right through here." As she situates herself behind the lens, she begins to ask me a few more questions and then IT IS asked, "Has anyone in your family had breast cancer?" She said it....that question.....and now the lump is in my throat, but I hold it together. "Yes, my sister." She busies herself with the equiptment but is talking casually with such a friendly demeanor. She then asks the next dreaded question as she prepares my breast for the pancake fest. "How is your sister doing??"
I prayed for strength, and it came, without a tear I said, "She passed," I whispered. The technician replied with, "I'm so sorry, she must have been very young." Serenely I answered back with, "Yes, she was only forty-one." She continued with the pancake fest moving my puppies every which way but down to the ground. For me, it doesn't hurt as it might for some other women. It's just an awkward feeling, and I think it's different for each and every person depending on their breast size. Chrissy and I had this conversation many times because being the more endowed breast lady, I would have to say it's a bit uncomfortable because a strange woman is pressing, pulling, touching and moving your breasts every which way and then you hold your breath. How fun is that?! For my smaller breasted women friends, they have said that it hurts......perhaps smaller the size, the more painful?? Now this story gets a bit lighter......it is classic......and I know my sissy was rolling over laughing when she heard the final question from this "breast specialist" if you will. I thought our session was finished as she did her thing on both sides of my breasts, when she asked, "Can I ask you something???" My heart sank because for a split second, I thought she saw something on the photos or mammogram. She assured me that all the photos were taken okay, but she had something to ask me.
Here comes the punchline:
"Since our equipment is newer, we are trying to adjust them with just the right measurements and accuracy, and well, if you're okay with it, could I take a couple more photos because your breasts are perfect; they're perfect for making adjustments to our equipment."
Well, my friends, for those of you who have read my previous entries about breasts, you may have caught the one story when Chrissy was trying to choose a size for her new breasts, and you may have an idea of my body image regarding these 46 year old puppies. I've always wanted to get a breast reduction, and when those words passed her lips, I about lost it......but in a funny way. A smile creeped its way upon my shocked face. Who would have thought that I had the perfect boobs for mammogram photography. I replied by saying, "Are you serious......really?" She was serious and I joked that perhaps.......perhaps I could make some money by donating photos of my breasts for science research or for the cause. I truly felt like Goldilocks testing the bears' porridge, except we were talking about my.....well.....my breasts. Too big? Too small?? They're just right!
Remember to get your annual mammogram......don't put it off.
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