It wasn't all that bad, today, actually. Oh, well, yeah, sure a little painful. But every year except for the very first year, it has been painful. The parking was [almost] the worst part.
[To the one or two male readers that come here - if this makes you squeamish - talking about "female health issues," stop reading now.] Let's face it. Getting a mammogram is no fun. None. Whatsoever. But, it has to be done. When I had my very first one, quite a few years back, afterward I thought to myself, "Gee. That wasn't all that bad. Wonder what all the fuss is about." I'm guessing the technician that did that very first one didn't have a clue as to what she was doing. Every mammogram since has been painful. Could you POSSIBLY squish me any FLATTER?!! I don't think so!!! Today I asked the technician if she realized she had some of my clavicle bone squished between her plastic plates, too. She told me that it was "only skin." I don't think so. Skin is relatively pliable. Bones are not.
So, after my mammogram I trotted off to make an appointment for my blood work - which has been ordered by my plastic surgeon in the States and which my doctor, here, ordered so that I can have all of the necessary pre-op "stuff" out of the way before I leave in ten days. No appointment necessary. Just fast for twelve hours and go get the tests done. I will start fasting tonight at 7P. I'll be at the clinic tomorrow at 7A. [Which means I am all but guaranteed a parking spot! Anytime after 7:30, though, and you play the parking game.]
After I left the lab, I went to reception to make an appointment for my EKG. Not necessary. Go straight to the EKG lab and sign in and wait for no more than two or three minutes and - done. Just like that. Done. Who knew it could be so easy? Have to give the company, here, which runs our clinic big kudos for stream-lining things in certain areas.
So, by 7:30 or 8:00 tomorrow morning, I should have everything I need done and all I will have to do is collect the records - I will order them tomorrow - and I'm good to go.
Twelve hours with nothing but water. Not that big of a deal... You have to do what you have to do, sometimes.
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As one of your two male readers (I presume), I think I can speak for men everywhere when I say that anytime the subject of breasts comes up we are anything BUT squeamish.
ReplyDeleteAnd if you think a mamogram is bad, try geting a proctoidsigmoidoscope administered by a doctor who's other ambition in life was to be George Carlin.
Best wishes for your up-coming transition! Good for you!
ReplyDeleteFine, you get squished by laboratory sadists and i will parallel park; the labor is divided, the world grinds onward.
ReplyDelete