The Mammogram

So....Not to freak any of you out, but my Dr. found a lump in my breast at my annual exam. Was I worried????
No,
Do I know of ANY relative who has had breast cancer? Besides My father's brother's wife's paternal father, who isn't even related by blood.
And besides...quite frankly, I'm not dead by the trials life has dealt me yet, so why should the thought of breast cancer scare me.
Chop it off if you must. Just leave me one to nurse future children.
But seriously I had no idea what I was in for when I went to my appointment at "THE BREAST CENTER" oooooo.....I think it gives most people the shivers.

I have heard stories of the "Boobie munch"
Not all are pleasant, so....I did not know what to expect.
I arrived at the hospital and searched for this breast center for over 15 minutes. Luckily I was early, because I had no idea where it was. Finally I decided to park in one of the parking towers, and just to my luck someone was pulling out on the first floor just as I was coming in.
Perfect.
Front Row Parking.
I proceeded to the main entrance of the hospital to gain directions to the ever elusive boob place. I was given directions and went outside. There were tinted, automatic, sliding doors with the words Breast Center over them. I wasn't sure if that was the right place because it was not very visible.
I entered one set of automatic doors,
And then another.
Both were tinted.
I found my eyes adjusting to the dim light inside.

You know how they say never judge a book by it's cover? Well never judge a breast center by what you see on the outside. I was extremely confused and surprised when I arrived down town phoenix for my appointment.
I looked up at the ceiling to see inlaid lighting with crown molding all around. There were large pieces of fancy art work, and comfy plush chairs. At the far end was a desk (real wood) where a receptionist sat.

The whole place looked like a waiting room for a day spa, or some kind of fancy resort. Not at all what I expected for a medical facility where they smash women's breast so they can use radiation to detect early signs of breast cancer.
Of course I was the only woman below forty (way below many even higher) but still, there were only about 4 or 6 in the waiting room.

I filled out my paperwork and thankfully was able to check NO to things like
Have you ever had a hysterectomy?
or Implants?
or tubal ligation?
Reduction?
Previous mammograms?
Former Mastectomies?
Breast Reconstruction?
yuck!
Maybe I did have a reason to fear. The things on the form sounded awful.

While I was waiting to be called back for my "service" I decided to browse through the magazines on the glass side table by my comfy chair.

Man, it must suck to get old and have all kinds of social pressure. All I found in these magazines were procedures for liposuction, pinch this, pull that, creme this, diet that, youthful something else, g-shot wonders, plastic, paper, silicone, and even your own adipose tissue (which is another name for fat).
All I thought was great, this is what we market to the generation of 40 and above. What a slap in the face for age and grace. That's messed up.

My brow was furrowed and my breathing had become heavy as I was angry to see what society was pushing on women who are getting mammograms. RIDICULOUS.

At that moment they called my name. When I stood, the lady paused, looked me up and down, raised one eyebrow, and said "Follow Me."
Past the door that read "No Gentleman or Children Beyond this Point"
Hey! I know I look young, but I did have an appointment. And even though sometimes I have the heart of a child, I am a woman.

Shock and Aww met me as I walked the hallway with this nurse. It was like being in a day spa.
Women in expensive white robes were

All I was thinking was, "Man, it this that bad that they have to make the facility so nice to distract from the procedure......or is this just some weird way of pampering women 40 and older once a year?"
Weird.

I was shuffled into a dressing room. The nurse with an extremely thick Spanish accent began giving me instructions on how to change, and how to use the lock. I was nodding my head because I thought I could figure out on my own. Her accent blurred most of what I thought was intended to be English. But I thought I would "do as monkey do" and follow what I had seen the other patients do.
That was until she said.
"Are you wearing Deodorant Ma'am?"
"excuse me?" I replied.
"Are you wearing deodorant" she came again.
(um.....do I stink or something) was what entered my head as I hesitantly replied "Yes".
"Alright here you go." as she handed me what looked like a moist towelette.

I couldn't figure out if it was to remove the deodorant, or if it was to help the technicians be overwhelmed by natural human scent.

So dutifully I wiped off my deodorant, wondering at the same time what I was going to smell like after a hot car ride home.....

I changed into my rob and had a seat in a chair and browsed a magazine.

I was called to an ultrasound room by a schoolmarmish looking woman. She was sturdily built and looked like she meant business.

And she was.....

All down to business

"How long have you felt this lump?"
Uh.....My Dr. found it.
(I was a little intimidated by her viking woman appearance)
And that was....about a week ago.
"Alright! Show me where it is"

School Marm felt the lump and squeezed an AMPLE amount of lube to my left breast. Ample may be a little bit misleading. I thought I was practically swimming in KY.
Lucky for me it was warm.

I felt a little anticipation as I looked at the screen and watched a hallow tear shaped spot appear. A little more so when she measured it.
Several more small tear-shaped spots appeared as she waved her magic wand of sound waves over my breast.

"It looks like a cyst."
Uh....Ok
I will take this to the Doctor and see if she wants to do a mammogram.

A little later she returned and said that mammograms aren't usually given to women my age because of our "Dense Breast Tissue."

Ah....lovely words.
Despite being pregnant, nursing for three and a half years. Gaining Seven (7) Cup sizes, and then loosing five (5), still leaving me with an ample breast, and I still have "Dense Breast Tissue"

Hallelujah, I don't have to worry about the reconstructive magazines in the foyer for a few years, because, despite the changes and droops I have noticed in my breast, Medically.....I am still considered to have dense breast tissue, thus disqualifying me from a mammogram.

Another good word. No boobie munch. I was somewhat excited to join the women who have had the infamous mammogram. But sorry ladies, I will have to join you at a time when the collagen and elsastin, and the connective tissue and the glands have become a little less "dense."

She then told me about fibrocystic breast disease, and how I needed to lay off of the caffeine.
"But I don't drink caffeine" I responded.
(I love it when people give you a diagnosis and assume your social history because of it.)
"Not Soda?"
"No"
I also added "No to coffee, tea, or anything else."
"What about chocolate?" she countered
"Well.....I guess I occasionally have something with chocolate in it, but not to excess."
Again came the raised eyebrow.

Fine, don't believe me I thought to myself. Only I will really know what I do or do not ingest into my body.
(unless Aunt Loo is counting my caloric intake)
From now on I must resort to painful lumpy breasts. Great........

She proceeded to tell me that I would "KNOW" If it were cancer. "How will I know?"
"Oh, Trust me hon, You'll know"
Well that was informative.

"Well what do tumors look like?"
"Swiss cheese." She replied Promptly.
"Swiss Cheese?" I responded with puzzlement.
"Yes, swiss cheese."

Alright then....So as long as I'm not growing cysts that look like swiss cheese I'm alright.....I guess I will pray for clear breasts with no swiss cheese. However, I do wonder if Cheese can be made from breast milk. Who knows, maybe some day I will be able to shock the school marmish looking tech.

I returned to my dressing room and changed out of my soft robe, feeling a little puzzled by the experience of Not having my first mammogram.

I wonder if it is as big of a spa-like deal for men during their turn-your-head-and-cough exam? I bet they aren't given pretty gowns and warm lube, plush seats, pillows and fancy art work to enjoy their visit.

Good luck ladies on your next annual visit to the Breast Center.