No, not THAT kind of smashed… Friday was my annual mammogram. Seriously ladies… you do go regularly – unless you’re a darling youngster who doesn’t have THAT on her annual radar yet – right? It’s no big deal. Truly… it’s easier than the other annual STUFF.
Let’s dispell a few myths. If you have a good technician, it doesn’t hurt. It’s like playing Twister on a vertical plane with said mammaries, but it’s not like shutting your finger in a car door or anything. I got a paper cut Friday morning, and it was much, MUCH worse – I promise. And if you don’t get a good technician? Complain. Refuse to see her again. I’ve had the same gem two years running, and this year, shared my new dentist’s name with her.
You CAN wear deodorant before your appointment. They provide little wipes, and you wipe, wipe, and then if you don’t remember to pack your own toiletries, they have more wipes that supposedly offer deodorant protection for your getting dressed again use.
It doesn’t take long. I’m lucky that the new hospital is literally two stoplights from work, but check-in takes longer than the actual procedure. Well, okay… so we got in trouble because the lady registering me went to high school with my inlaws and has a basset grand-dog… But even if we hadn’t shared basset photos and she hadn’t given me the name of her daugther’s dog’s breeder, it would have taken longer to confirm that none of my information had changed since last year than to do the four awkward but not painful poses with the machine.
So, what did you do for fun over the weekend?