Once a year I see my doctor for an annual check up and she gives me a referral appointment letter to the imaging center to set another appointment for a mammogram. First off, I don't look forward to any appointment with any doctor, but the mammogram is definitely at the bottom of the list of places I don't want to go. But go I do. After all, this test has saved 1000s of lives, my mother-in-law and sister included, by revealing something that shouldn't be growing there so it can be removed before it goes too far.
So I make my appointment and I go, and I don't wear deodorant that day like they tell me. If you haven't had this done before, I will explain the procedure. A mammogram is like an x-ray that is gotten by two cold metal plates smashing your boob to as flat and even a pancake as is possible. The technician smashes the right one from top to bottom, then from side to side, then she smashes the left one from top to bottom, then from side to side. Then you stand there and wait while she looks at the pictures to make sure she got a good picture, and most of the time she comes back and re-smashes one of your boobs again.
The word "smash" is a kind term for what she does to me. It pinches and squeezes. No that's not bad enough either. It feels like a car backed over just your boob and then parked there and you couldn't get out from under it. And if you don't have boobs, then think of another body part that sticks away from your body and having a car park on it. But I tell myself that it is necessary and that I can take it and that the alternative is worse. Frankly, it hurts like hell. And you have to stand there and not breathe while the picture is taken. But you have done it before so you know you can survive it again. Also, it's pretty embarrassing to have someone grab your boob and position it between plates so they can smash it. You're in a semi-darkened room (nice touch this is so you feel a little less embarrassed), half-naked (oh good, I can keep my pants on at least), and the technician has to pull your boob up and onto a plate and the whole time you are imagining that she wishes you had bigger boobs too (yes, of course I wish they were bigger). Don't be disillusioned on size though because it hurts to have them smashed if they are big or medium (I refuse to say small).
The mammogram technician makes this assault on me and I leave saying thank you! I don't hold her personally responsible for my pain, and I even feel a little embarrassed for her having to manipulate strangers boobs all day like that. But I digress. My point is that she is caring, she is sometimes funny, she averts her eyes, she makes sure her hands are warm, and she is respectful during a painful and embarrassing procedure.
It occurred to me today as I was dropping off my car for a tire rotation that the service consultants could use a lesson from the mammogram technician. They seldom call me by name, they are in a hurry to check me in, they don't want to hear my whole story about my car's issues, they can't tell me how long it will take or when or if they will update me about what's happening to my mechanical baby. They neglect to do things that would make me more comfortable and more forgiving of the pain and time spent when I leave my mechanical baby in their capable hands.
