smashing lady parts

I finally had the ol' mammogram and my boobies hurt a bit.  My plan was to go to yoga tonight, but since I felt like at any moment my girls could have fallen off my chest, downward dog was not an option.  I decided, instead, to walk with the Pea while she rode her bike.  One would think this was just a ho hum occasion...all five year olds ride their bike in the afternoons right?  Wrong.  The Boy and I slaved over that bike last Christmas Eve...it is a one of a kind, custom, tricked out, kick ass, pink bike...and she rode it ONCE.  Christmas day she took it out, took a turn a bit too fast and fell, and somehow smashed her lady parts.  It has taken her 10 months to work up the courage to try it again.  I can't say I blame her...if in her mind: bike = bruised bits, well...

So, just so happened yesterday, she up and decided it was time.  Out of the blue the bike came out of it's resting place and around and around the kitchen she went until she felt like she could handle it without harming herself.  Today we ventured outside.  Up and down the street she rode, proud of herself and her bike, and not a single lady part was harmed.  No southern bits anyway, BUT my northern bits felt like they were sliding off my ribcage and more than once I caught myself holding one in each hand.  I was positive when I took off my bra tonight the boobies would come with it...or still be attached but unfurl like tube socks.  I'm happy to report neither happened, but I'm wearing a sports bra to bed.

The mammogram itself was, overall, a lot less horrible than I expected.  I did some research going in, and made sure to find an imaging clinic that only had the newer "gentler" digital machines, and that, coupled with a really great tech who didn't man handle me, probably made a huge difference.  I know Smash, and plenty of other ladies, haven't been so lucky.  I also had the good fortune of getting the advice to take some Motrin an hour or so before hand...I never would have thought to do that if my sister hadn't mentioned it.

Since I feel like my experience was made better because going in I knew what to expect, I thought I would share it for any of you out there who haven't had the pleasure of getting your boobies mashed, smashed, and photographed, so that you too, will have a better than average experience.

For starters, do your research and make sure you go digital...ooooh, and another thing, my original appointment was scheduled during a not optimal time of the month....my girls hurt if you looked at them, touching them was out of the question...had I not mustered up the balls to call and reschedule I would have been on the floor in a puddle *shudder*  Make sure your appointment is the week AFTER your period, and even if you like 'em man handled by your man, take some Motrin, cuz the machine you can't slap and say "gentle! geez..."

After checking in, and giving them enough personal information for them to easily steal my identity, I headed to the dressing area and stripped from the waist up.  I put on a gown, which was cute with my four inch heels (they let you keep your shoes on) and then the tech led me into "the room" which is dominated by "the machine" which essentially looks like a plastic vice grip...a GINORMOUS plastic vice grip.  She had me take the gown off on one side and slapped a little metal sticker on my nipple, which was a surprise...no one told me about the sticker.  I stepped up to the plate, so to speak, and she lifted my left one onto it.  I then had to do a little contortion act with one arm huggin' the machine, the other "relaxed" yeah right, and my head tilted to the side so the top plate (the smasher) wouldn't uppercut me when it unsmashed.  I'm GLAD I had on heels cuz I felt like I was being picked up off the ground as the top plate came down.  As it came down it simultaneously smooshed and pulled and then there was a click, and I was released.  This got repeated 3 more times, with assorted combinations of lifting, mashing, "look up" and "relax."  I only had a mild panic attack, and after one short break to sit down with my head between my knees  ("you were sweating, shaking, and turning white, bless your heart child!") I was fine.  If you can get your blood pressure taken, or watch your dog get a shot, without having a panic attack and passing out (I can not), you will be fine.

After ripping the little metal stickers off my nipples (which I debated just leaving there cuz I KNEW it was gonna smart like hell) I gathered up the girls, poured them into my bra, got myself dressed, and headed out.  Had I not had to go back to work I would have gone to the nearest bar and ordered a martini, instead, I hit the nearest Taco Bell and ordered pretty much everything on the menu.

I could have thought of at least three things I would have rather done with my morning, and my boobs, but I am glad I did it.  I hope anyone who is told by their doctor that they need one doesn't chicken out like I almost did, because it really isn't all that bad.

I would go ahead and get the martini afterward though, cuz the Taco Bell?  Bad...very. bad. idea.