I stressed myself out. I’m actually really, really gifted in that area. No one, and I mean no one, can build a bigger mountain out of a mole hill than I can. Trust me. Besides the anxiety riddled stomach issues that usually accompany such thoughts, I can usually work up a good cry to top it all off. It’s life in the fast lane with idiot girl speeding down life’s highway at incredible speeds.
They’ll be no pit stops on this journey.
I had my first mammogram today. Yeah, I know, I know, I know, I’m forty-one, shoulda had it done last year. Talk to the hand people, talk to the hand.
Regardless, it’s done. I made the appointment on Monday and had three days to worry over it. I usually build the foundation of the mole hill to mountain by laying a good old fashioned layer of prickling fear. It’s cancer. I know it.
I then carefully arrange a thick coating of pity party. Why isn’t anyone else worried about this? Shouldn’t everyone be nice to me. I’ve got cancer for pity’s sake!.
A nice layer of scared is most carefully applied. It gives my mountain an ominous look and adds weight to its bulk. Man! I’m such an idiot girl! What if I do something wrong? What if it’s a man taking the picture…eeeewww! Don’t touch me!
Finally the pinnacle on my mountain of fret is the apprehension of the actual event or procedure. Mammograms hurt you know. You’ve heard the jokes, read the articles, and seen the bruises. It’s going to hurt and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Thus I arrived at the imaging center, mountain in tow, resigned to my dreadful fate.
Only…It wasn’t painful. It wasn’t scary. There wasn’t a man in sight and the young (what was she? Twelve?) woman who took the mammogram was really sweet.
A lot of things have changed in the world of body imaging and I’m really proud of the fact that I didn’t cry. Course, I didn’t have time, the entire thing took about five minutes.
I’ll admit that I held my breath (just a little) when she told me I’d either receive a package (complete with letter of explanation and cd-rom) if there were no problems OR my doctor would be in touch by next week.
If there are no problems…
First a layer of prickling fear…
But wait, a cd-rom? I get to see it? What then? Do I put it in the photo album and pass it along to future generations?
“Grandma, what’s this here?”
“Why, sweetheart, that’s a photo image of your granny’s squashed boob.”
Do I show it to the neighbors when they come over for dinner and a movie?
”And here you’ll see a slight abnormality. We’re not sure, but we think it might be Al Capone.”
As neighbor pulls on her coat, “Oh my! Would you look at the time?”
Do I post it on my blog?
Too much information! Too much information!
A cd-rom of my mammogram. What will they think of next? Can’t I just have a sticker or maybe a piece of chocolate?