Extra Squished

If you have a Y chromosome, stop reading NOW!

On Wednesday I had to get a mammogram. I was not expecting to be sent for one, which is likely a good thing because I would have dreaded it for days and days.  When I got there, the lady was very nice, but as I'm standing there baring it all, she's chatting. She finally told me that she was chatting because the images are computerized now, and the computer takes a minute to reload after each image.  Well, isn't that great.  Doesn't everyone love to stand there half naked chatting?

All in all the mammogram wasn't as awful as I expected. It certainly wasn't pleasant, but I was expecting worse.  

BUT, then I was sent for an ultrasound too.  While I had to wait for my ultrasound, I had to sit in this small room. They don't let you get dressed while you wait, so there were several ladies in there with only paper sheets draped over their shoulders (no arm holes, just short drapes).  Lovely, huh?  This is one of those situations that you really just want to blend into the wall and not make any eye contact.  Somehow though, I'm never quite that lucky.  A sweet (and very scared) little older lady began chatting with me in all of my semi-nakedness.  I willed myself to disappear, but it didn't happen.  Then this lady began to tell me how scared she was.  Truly, she was a very sweet lady and I do understand that she was scared.  I wanted to reassure her, but I also wanted to crawl under my seat. I thought momentarily about hiding in one of the dressing rooms too.  Anyway, as this lady began to explain the reason for her fear, she OPENED HER DRAPE to show me her scar that ran the entire length OF HER CHEST!  HELLO???  YOU HAVE NOTHING ON, Lady!  So, then I'm debating whether to look quickly in that direction so I can agree with her about how awful it is, or if it would be too rude to just ignore it entirely.  

Unfortunately it didn't end there.  Then she began telling me that her gynecologist had done a breast exam and decided to send her for a mammogram. But was telling me enough?  Oh heck no! She began to SHOW me.  To quote her, "He rolled my breasts around feeling them up and down." She said this while DOING exactly what the doctor did.  

Like I said, she truly was just scared and looking for reassurance.  And I really did feel bad for her because you could see the fear on her face and hear it in her voice.  Had it been my grandmother (who by the way would have NEVER shown her goods), I would have hoped somebody would have listened to her and helped ease her fears rather than ignore her.  But at the same time, I didn't want to see what she had!  

Funny thing is, when they called her back, she held her drape down as low as she could in the back (which was only about 1/2 was down---those drapes are short!), so people couldn't see her naked back! 

But does my day end there? Oh heck no!  

I get called back for my ultrasound BY A MAN!!!!!  Here's the thing, I don't want a female doing an ultrasound on me, but I sure enough don't want a man fondling my breast with an ultrasound wand. Ever.  And keep in mind I've done the whole fertility thing, which involves more ultrasounds in the southern region than you could ever imagine possible, so I'm quite used to them.  

And yet again, it doesn't end there.

When I got back there, I find out that there is a student who will be watching the whole procedure.  Lovely. So now about half of my city has seen my boobs.

Still not over.

The guy tells me to remove my drape from my left side.  While I was in the waiting room, I was freezing, so one of the techs took mercy on me and got me a robe-ish thing that you stick your right arm through an armhole, drape it around your back, put your left arm through, then drape it around the front and back around your right arm again.  In order to take it off your left arm, you must first remove it from your right.  As I began removing it, the guy said, "No, your left arm."  I told him I had one of the RLR robes, and I couldn't figure how to take it off my left arm without taking it off my right arm first.  He tried to figure it out, but he couldn't figure a way either, so he said just take the whole thing off. Lovely.  Then it GOT STUCK ON ME!  Apparently I twisted it some putting it on, and I couldn't for the life of me get it off.  He watch the whole freaking time as I struggled with something that should be so simple.  I think it was my subconscious not wanting to literally disrobe right there.  I finally got it off, and he tells me to get on the table, which is of course a thousand feet in the air. I'm short, so I can't easily hike my hip up on most doctor's tables.  He looks for the stool as I'm trying to figure how to gracefully attempt to climb up while half naked.  Then he announces, "I can't find the stool. If you don't mind, I'll just pick you up."  Um, I DO MIND! Don't touch me anymore than you already have to.  I ended up doing the little maneuver that you do when you're getting out on the side of a pool without a ladder--I put my hands on the table/bed, which was about boob level, hoisted myself up, and did a half turn so I was sitting on the bed.  You'd think he'd keep his mouth shut, but no! He said, "Nice move.  Sorry I can't find the stool, but I've got to say, you sure don't act act like you're as old as you are."  And now I officially hate him, even if he did tell me exactly what to expect the entire time. 

Nice, huh?

Unfortunately, this isn't my most embarrassing experience with an ultrasound.  Boy am I a lucky girl!