Think Pinker

Breast cancer is such a serious issue that it cannot be neglected. In all the articles we read online or in forums, all we hear about is that serious side of the disease. Sometimes, it helps to take a look at the situation with a sense of humor. That’s why I wanted to write this article to share the sillier side of mammograms.

I had long passed that magic age marker of 35 when my doctor insisted that I schedule myself for the all-important test that I had long avoided. He cautioned that self exams do not always detect lumps in dense breasts like mine. I really wanted to point out to him that they wouldn’t be dense anymore if I went through with this test. He insisted that I was at that age and I caved in.
It may sound hilarious to some people that I was scared as I set up the dreaded appointment. The thought of getting my girls smashed between two pieces of equipment didn’t really excite me. I also hoped that the room wouldn’t be too cold.

When I made the call, the receptionist sounded entirely too cheerful. I wondered how she could be so cheerful when “sisters” were getting tortured every day. After she finished with her greeting, I gave my information and she came back with an appointment time that was only two days away. It was a little closer than I had hoped. At least, I thought gleefully, I wouldn’t have to leave the sample in a cup.

The day arrived quickly. I checked in and was taken to the dressing area. They gave me a paper gown. I was ready to walk. Not only did I have to expose my breast to an uncomfortable procedure, but now I also had to freeze in a tiny  disposable paper wrap.

The next step was getting the test. Not only did they squeeze on the top and bottom, but then they switched the plates around and smashed from side to side. Then I had to do the other side. The technician tried to comfort me by explaining that it would not hurt. Well I had news for her. It did hurt and I let her know it.

After going through the fear and the pain, I realized it was just a necessary thing that we face as women. Finding out that I was cancer free was worth it all. Now I hear there is a blood test with 80% accuracy. I think the next time I need to test, I’ll beg my doctor to sample my blood rather than go back to the “crusher.”