Last Wednesday I announced to the world that my sister groped my boobs when we woke up that morning. Today I’d like to modify that statement –
“My sister feels me up when I’m unsure about what I’m feeling in the privacy of our own home. My mother however, is not afraid to ask me to raise my shirt in a busy parking lot so that she can feel my lumps.”
Rest assured, I declined my mother’s request and instead guarded my lovely lady lumps as she tried her best to get to them, oblivious to the office full of people 5 feet away from us.
I went to the smasher’s office yesterday with every intention of flashing my breast to anyone who wanted to see them. (Sorry Mr. Hospital Orderly!)
The nurse was a very kind, warm woman who discussed the procedures with me before asking me to remove my clothes. I felt very comfortable with her and sent good thoughts to God for sending me such a nice and comforting nurse. I changed into my front opening shirt and traipsed through the office without a care to the exam room.
Enter the Spanish Inquisition-
Who in your family has had breast cancer? My maternal grandmother had actual cancerous lumps; my mom’s lumps are always benign.
When did you start your period as a child? 13…or 12….no it was 13….is there a multiple choice?
Have you ever given birth? Yes
When? 2002
Did you breast feed? Yes, right up until my milk ducts laughed at me for attempting to pump 8 ounces out of 2 ounces.
Are you currently pregnant? Ummm….welll…..no…maybe…no….I have no freaking clue.
Alright well, we aren’t going to do the test today. You aren’t menstruating or on birth control, you might be pregnant.
Look lady, I’ve been trying to get pregnant for over four years. If I happen to be pregnant it will be a freaking miracle, I PROMISE! Just do the test.
You need to go get a blood test to confirm you aren’t pregnant and we’ll reschedule you for tomorrow. Unless you’re pregnant….we can’t do any radiation test on pregnant women. We don’t want to cause any three eyed fetuses.
CRAP, ARGGGGGHHHHH, AREYOUFREAKIKIDDINME!
So I go to my doctor, get some blood drawn and pray for 10 minutes that I’m not pregnant so I can get this mammogram and then pray for 4 hours that I am pregnant.
Apparently it only takes 10 minutes for God to listen and get on to the next girl, because the test came back negative. Proof that the Almighty One is a man? He and my husband share an attention span.
So I go back to the doctor this morning and they rush me through the lobby, billing & questioning portion. Nurse Wonderful from yesterday stops by and says she’s glad to see me back. She then apologizes for not being able to take care of me today but assures me that today’s nurse is really nice.
She Lied.
I am positive that today’s nurse can squeeze a completely full, unopened aluminum can and crush it into 1,000 little pieces. How can I be so positive? Because she demonstrated on my right tit.
This woman groped, tugged, pulled, prodded and pummeled my breast. It instantly brought back memories of a few ex-boyfriends; I even started to expect a sloppy wet kiss.
Nurse Man Hands continued massaging my breast tissue into my spine for a good 10 minutes all while telling me about her first mammogram experience. I guess they don’t teach that whole “Make the patient less nervous by talking about something off topic” in nursing school. She regaled me with stories of ancient machines that smashed your boobs into little pancakes, acupuncture type probes, and nurses manhandling your breast. (I might have imagined that last one…)
When she was positive that all of my breast tissue was pulverized into something akin to grains of sand, she took me to the radiologist room.
The radiologist was a bright and cheery little troll who complained about her job and husband more than I could ever imagine.
“Oh, that’s a beautiful diamond ring. Are you married? I’m married to a scum sucking communist pig who thinks I like to come home at 7pm and cook him a gourmet dinner after working in this hell hole all day.”
“Yes I am married. I’m…..sorry?”
She walked me over to the machine and told me to “plop it” on the machine. (Oh I wish I had a plopping sound effect) I did my best plop impression and prayed that it was as good as she expected.
The first few pictures weren’t that horrible. There were uncomfortable positions involved, but I wasn’t experiencing any of the pain my elders had warned me about.
Here’s the part where I eat my words….
She took the first round of pictures back to the doctor and came be bopping back in with excellent news. “He wants more pictures, he saw something. But don’t be alarmed!”
“Yeah...Sure.”
She brings me back to the plopper and tells me to do a position straight out of a Kama Sutra guide. The machine is now at a 20 degree angle and she says “I’m putting a different tray on here, it smashes a little harder to get the tissue to spread more.”
“No problem, it wasn’t that bad last time, I’ve got this.”
“Ok, here goes, this might pinch, hold your breath.”
“Ok…..ouch, yeah, that pinches….wow…..Holy Mother of God what in the hell are you trying to accomplish? Does he need to see through the freaking boob? They aren’t going to be transparent!!”
“You’re supposed to be holding your breath.”
“Oh…yeah…about that….you’ve got my boob inverted, holding my breath isn’t an option at this point.”
“Stop talking and it will stop hurting.”
“Fine”
And with that, she lowered the tray just a “pinch” further until I yelped in pain, snapped the picture and said “All done!”
“Hip, Hip, Hoo-freaking-ray.”
She took the second round of films to the doctor and was gone for an exceptionally long time. After putting my “shirt” back on I secretly wished that Nurse Man Hands would come massage my aching boobs.
Troll Baby came skipping back to the torture chamber with even better news, “He’s asking for an ultrasound, seems you’ve got a lump.”
“Here’s your sign.”
We walked to the ultrasound room and Troll Baby explains to me that the “goo” is going to be cold.
“After the pain in the last two rooms, I would expect nothing less.”
What she didn’t tell me was that the tube soaked in an ice bath.
“Well, we got that nipple up didn’t we?”
“Brrrrr…iiiiiiittttccccchhhhhhh”
She wielded the ultrasound wand with the same skill as a 3 year old with chopsticks. She left the room and called the doctors name in the hallway. I’m really beginning to freak out at this point. The cancer is climbing out of my areola. I’ve got 10 minutes to live. I'm dead already.
“Well Christina, you’re good to go! You’ve got a few areas of tissue and muscle clumping and a fluid filled cyst. We’ll recheck those in six months to make sure they haven’t changed.”
“Have a nice day and don’t forget to self-exam each month!"
