OK, so in remembrance of Breast Cancer Awareness month, I had my annual mammo this morning. Considering this was my third time, you'd think I'd be an old pro. That's what I thought until I walked into the room to find this modern-day torture device staring down at me. OHHHHH....I had forgotten *gulp* how intimidating it looks.
I don't know about you, but to me, there's nothing like a 9-foot tall machine clamping down your boobs in a vice to start off the day. But the BEST part is when you have to practically balance on your tippy-toes as the machine pulls you up a few inches by your newly flattened boobs. Believe me, that's not a fall you want to take.
Could you imagine a man's horror if a doctor turned to him and said, "This is how we're now checking for testicular cancer"?
I'm ALL for mammograms. Matter of fact, early detection from them just saved the life of someone very close to me. It's imperative to get them done every year!
At the same time, as I get older and after having had two babies, I've really learned how to swallow my pride. That's not even counting the annual gyn visit! The stirrups, foot-long Q-Tips, that cold metal V-clamp, and let's not forget the freezing gel, all make for the most relaxing visit. And always, always the doctor asking you to "spread your legs". You think he must be crazy. There's no possible way you could spread them any further, until you look up and notice your knees are still practically glued together.
So, for the sake of our health, we endure these humiliating, albeit life-saving procedures. But for the life of me, despite not being a smoker, why do I always crave a cigarette after?