Every year when I go visit the Evil Dr. Porkchop at my annual check-up, he tells me to get a mammogram because I need some baseline results. No, his real name isn’t Evil Dr. Porkchop, but last year they had a commercial for Toy Story 3 playing on a television set in the waiting room and I decided to re-name him. It was either that or the more appropriate Stinky Pete the Prospector but that conjures up all kinds of images that I don’t want to imagine when I think about my gynecologist. Neither do you.
For no other reason than fear, though, I have put it off every year because of the horror stories I hear from my friends. Ladies. We have GOT to stop telling one another these stories because we’re not doing anyone any kind of favors. Each time The Cuban asked me when I was going to get it done I waved it off. “I’ll get it done. Eventually. I’m busy right now. Work is busy. BUSY.” and then, when Breast Cancer Awareness Month came around last October he got all in a dither about it. He was more than preoccupied with making sure he celebrated it and brought awareness to it and I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact that he’s just a fan. Of, you know. Breasts. As busy as I was with work at the time he made a few calls and had me pick up a packet of information so he could take it to work. Since I was picking it up for him, the nice lady at the office gave me some things to take back to my work, too. Pink ribbon buttons, flyers, posters. The Cuban wore the pink ribbon button on his baseball cap every day and took up this charge like it was his job. I kept asking him why he cared so much and he couldn’t really articulate it. It’s not as if he has a lot of women in his family that this has affected and he’s not close to anyone with the disease. He just cared a lot about it and has asked me regularly to get my first one done.
It’s going to hurt. All my female friends say this!
So, it’s going to hurt. Tell yourself that and then go do it anyway. Please? It’s important. I want you to take care of yourself.
That’s a tough argument. It’s not like I have breast cancer or other cancers in my family, either. It just needed to be done.
Yesterday, I did it. When it was all over and I called The Cuban to tell him that it was fine and not that painful he was glad.
Now, blog it. Women need to know it’s okay.
Are you serious? No one listens to me about that stuff. I write about education and my kids and trips to the circus.
Blog it. Right now.
He is right about all of it. If I had read even one article about how it’s not as bad as I imagined then I would have done it long ago, but I kept reading the running a car over my boobs type of post and then I shied away from it. To make myself accountable to the process, I took a picture of the building where I was getting it done and then posted it to Instagram. I knew my friends would see it and only one of them freaked out thinking that something was wrong, but another friend told me she was glad I was doing it. Julie said, “You just made my day!! So glad you’re going. The girls will get over it! :) ”
She was right. He was right. Everyone was right about this. It wasn’t a horrible experience but it truly helped that I said to the tech, Vicky, that I was nervous and had put this off for years.
I’m glad you told me that because it helps. Let’s look at the machine first so you can see what will happen.
Vicky went through the process and had me watch before she made me do it. She’d been doing this for 30 years and said that, in her experience, it feels more like having your skin stretched taut than the regular “squishing” and “smooshing” that women comment about the process. She told me that she would need to put these little stickers on the nipple so that the machine wouldn’t confuse them with a mass and that she would take four pictures total. Two on each side and one of those would be straight on and the other one where I would have to grab onto the machine with my arm to get it out of the way. During the mammogram, she smoothed the skin down as the clamp (sorry, there’s no other word I can think of for it and that one has a negative connotation) came down onto each breast and that made it easier.
How are you doing with that, Kelly?
I’m good. This isn’t so bad.
Great! That’s what I like to hear. Now, here we go.
The technician did all the arranging and moving about and adjusting of things and I stood there. She reminded me that I didn’t need to hold my breath but that if it helped me then I was welcome to do it. I was glad that my friends at least told me not to wear deodorant to my mammogram (because it interferes with the process and mimics the pattern of calcifications). Lotion and powders aren’t recommended, either. More information can be found here at Women’s Health.
As nervous as I was going in, Vicky made things easier for me. We talked about her grandchildren and the 4th of July parties we each had at our houses and of her husband who is a retired math teacher. She led me through my mammogram and I told her that all morning I had been singing a warped version of the Carl Carlton song. “She’s a bad mammogramma! Just as fine as she can be. HEY.”
To which I still say, whatever helps you get through it. Right? (Do you need to hear that song now? I’ll help you.)
At the end of the day The Cuban took me out for a special treat for finally getting my mammogram. I know it sounds weird, but this was a hard day that I put off for years. YEARS. There was no reason to avoid it and I was foolish about it. No results are in yet and I will probably update you on that, but it’s done and I’m relieved that one small part is over. Vicky also said that because it’s my baseline mammogram that I may be called in to have it done again but not to panic because that is normal. My normal isn’t the same as another person’s normal so being more careful is better than not.
He let me stretch out to relax while he did all the work. I think he had fun at the wheel. (Helm. Whatever.)
Last night I not only wanted to feel normal, but I wanted to feel alive and The Cuban took me boating and we saw the longest sunset I can recall seeing in a long time. It was calming and the wind was perfect and it wasn’t too hot on the water. Just the two of us went out and it was glorious. We don’t have time like that very often and I loved it. But he was right. It wasn’t so bad.
Not a bad ending to my day thanks to The Cuban and some silly lyrics to an old song.
I realize now that Julie was actually in the hospital when she saw my first Instagram photo when I was on my way to get a mammogram. She’s there because she’s been battling breast cancer for a while and it seemed fitting that we connected on this. As much of a mess as I was yesterday morning, Julie gave me some serious perspective and encouragement when I needed it the most and she did it from the hospital. I almost can’t even wrap my brain around that.
I hope you get better soon, Julie, because you really are a bad Mama Jama.
{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }
Thanks for the humor and honesty. I’ll have to post about mine when I get it done.
xoxo
Mammograms are a necessary evil. Well, maybe evil is too strong a word. I’ve been more willing to get mine regularly since both my mother and a close friend (and three coworkers!) were diagnosed with breast cancer. When I go in for the annual flattening (choose your descriptive word), my mantra is “Life is good.”
Good for you! I recently had my first mammogram in over ten years (I had one at 30). My sister was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer this winter, and it took me almost six months to just go and do it. It’s uncomfortable, yeah, but so is a Pap smear. It could be a lot worse.
I don’t understand why women make such a big deal out of this… If I’d known you put it off, I’d have blogged about mine a year or so ago. I had to have lots of followup, too! (weird spot) It’s no big deal! No, it’s not something I’d recommend for a vacation, or a thrill, but it’s not as bad as all that. I don’t care for it, but it doesn’t hurt, done properly, so no big deal! It’s very important! Glad you did it, and even more glad you blogged about it! If one person goes ahead and gets it done, it’s worth the blog!
love you lots..
Glad you did it; I even had one about 3 yrs. ago-and you know what I’m working with-LOL! Love you.
This is great. I’m going to link it up to my Saturday Sampling. Thanks for taking the time to spread the word. Be sure to remember her name and ask for her specially next time you schedule. Better yet, become her friend on Facebook, because when she retires, she’ll be able to tell you who the 2nd best person is
My MIL and I go for Buddygrams and then to lunch; it’s fun
Squish ‘em if you wanna keep ‘em! There no fun, but it sure beats the alternative, right? And teach The Cuban how to do an exam so he can help out, too!
I had been putting off getting my baseline also. I’d heard about it being uncomfortable and squishy and honestly I think those women lied to me. The only uncomfortable thing was the part where another lady handled my boob. It’s summer and I’m kind of perspirey and I kept apologizing but she swore it was no big deal. It didn’t hurt, it wasn’t even uncomfortable. It was just a quick moosh and then over.
Actually I guess it was also kind of uncomfortable to go in the giant pink RV parked at our building since we have construction going on right now. I’m easily embarassed and couldn’t meet the eye of any of the people in the lot on the way back in.
Great post! My ob/gyn said I don’t need one yet…I’m 38, I hope she’s right…I figure if I can get tattooed and pierced, I can handle the booby-squisher.
I’m not at the mamogram age yet, but I have already heard so many horror stories about the “squish machine”. It was great to read this one. I’m going to pass it along, and encourage all the woman in my life to go get it done, because it isn’t as bad as we have all been told.
I’m glad you finally had this done. I am one of those that doesn’t understand why women avoid doing this. It’s a few moments of discomfort, yes, but you really need it. Just like getting a flu shot. We women tell stories that scare others. If we really listened to women’s childbirth stories, no one would continue to procreate. But these are our survival stories, right? Anyway, happy you “took care of business” and hopefully will inspire other to do the same.
I had my first one a few months before I turned 40. I had heard stories about it, but I feel like I’d rather be warned than surprised. My first one was cool, until the HMO called me at work to say I needed to come back for more. THAT scared the crap out of me. Turned out it was just a dense spot or something they need to keep an eye on. I much prefer the sonograms I have to go for every six months. Except there are no stickers for that.
Always right on time Kelly, always right on time!!! Keep up the good work and continuing to spread the word. Love Ya!
Thank you for sharing your experience. It is so important to take advantage of early detection tests.
Next up, a colonoscopy!