I Got My Mammogram. Have You? Let Me Walk You Through It.

I write about what I live. My life. I write about being a stay at home mother because that is what I do every day.

I write about how much I love my kids. Almost to the point that you probably want to barf.

I write about how I feel insane most days.

I write about what it is like to be 40.

And because of that last one sometimes I have to write about mammograms.

Just like the Pap post, men here is your warning. Women get mammograms. And I’m about to give details.

Boobies. The girls. The ladies. The tatas. Even though they shouldn’t, oftentimes they define us. They are part of what makes us women.

Whether small and athletic, bountiful and voluptuous or anything in between, they are our lady lumps.

When you turn forty you must have them photographed once a year. And I am not talking about for your hubby’s birthday. Your have to get a mammogram.

I had a baseline at 36. This is where they get images of your breast tissue that will be used to make comparisons to future mammograms. They will look for changes in the breast tissue.

At 36 for some reason it was no big deal. It was just a procedure that my doctor wanted me to do for her. Done.

But now I am 40. Now a mammogram is something that I must do yearly. To stay abreast of my breast health.

I said aBREAST. (hehe)

I won’t lie. Aging is strange. And sometimes hard. When I was 20 and women would talk about getting mammograms I felt like that was so far into the future. It didn’t even concern me.

Then I blinked. And I was one of those women.

So I did it. I made the appointment. I was hoping it would take a month for them to work me in. Maybe two. The nurse said, “We can get you in this Friday.”

Wait let’s talk about this first. What is the rush?

I took the appointment. Better to get it over with so I could put it behind me. Except this time it would not be for four years. I would have to do the same thing next November.

The day arrived and I reported with my paperwork. I was asked a few routine questions. Did I had a history of breast cancer in my family? Do I do self-examines? Do I still have periods?

Do I still have periods? Ouch. Aging is hard.

I waited for someone to come get me and take me to the back.

Then an angel came. She made me feel at ease from the very start. SHE may do this several times a day but she knew that I did not. This was very personal to me.

She took me to a changing room and asked me to undress from the waist up and put on a robe. Unlike the paper robe that I wear for the gynecological exam, this was an actual robe. Like one you would get hanging on the bathroom door at a luxurious hotel. That was a nice touch. I pretended I was getting ready for a spa treatment.

Next my angel took me to THE room. Where the action would take place. It didn’t seem so bad. There was a computer station. And there was a machine. It didn’t look TOO scary.

My angel was very personable. We discussed our pregnancies. Our children. It was as though we could be friends in real life. Real life where I was not about to place my naked breasts on top of some plexiglass.

She told me step by step what was going to happen. She needed four images. Once we (and by WE I mean me and my girls) got in position, she needed me to hold my breath and stand very still so she cold get a clear image.

As if I could move with my breast in a vice.

I was ready. I untied my robe and placed my right breast on the machine. She apologized in advance for her cold hands, for she had to make sure that I was positioned correctly. Then she pressed the button that set the vice in motion. And just like that I was squished. Except it wasn’t so bad.

She walked to her computer, told me to hold my breath, and just like that, the first image was done.

Next she needed a side to side picture. This one was a little more uncomfortable as I had to put my arm up over the machine. Still it wasn’t too bad. She captured image two.

Next it was time for the left breast. Two pictures. Done. The whole procedure only took about two minutes. It was not the most pleasant thing in the world to do but honestly it wasn’t too bad.

She escorted me back to my changing room. As I got dressed I thought about my angel. She comes to work every day knowing that this could be the day that she helps save a life. Her perfect images could detect a change in someone’s breast tissue. Maybe even a tumor. A tumor that left undetected could possibly end a life.

For most though, her perfect images offer peace of mind. For another year. A clear mammogram feels pretty good.

I actually just got my results call. All I heard was “Mammogram results normal. Follow up in one year.”

Thank you my angel. You did your job with such compassion. You captured four perfect images of MY breasts and allowed me to have peace of mind for another year.

To those of you in the medical profession, never take for granted how much your life’s work impacts some. Not only do you help save lives by detecting dangerous tumors, but for some of us, the luckiest ones of all, you allow us to exhale. And smile. For another whole year.

Are you 40? Get your mammogram. It is that important.

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