Friday, June 13, 2008

Freshly squeezed boobs

Well today was one of those days that you get a call from your local Women's Health Center and go for a mammogram, and ultra sound of your breasts. As my family history dictates, I must go for a mammogram every year, and on occassion I get called back, and on occasion I have an ultra sound to clarify some mystery radiologists find. When I walked into the clinic it gives you the feeling of a Spa. Spa my Pardon my French. Of course your change room has a lovely bench and a really nice sink, where you are asked to wash up. Nice towels rolled up just like a spa, pot pour and all. The receptionist is polite and although somewhat robotic as accommodating as one can expect. Then and elderly volunteer escorts you to "The Room". I wait, and wait, and wait, it seems there is some difficulty with my file, like "IT IS MISSING". So I get to wait some more until everyone in the department takes their turn looking for it. Finally someone decided to tell me. My momma didn't raise no fool, I kind of figured it out, they lost it. I approached the receptionist asking how much longer I would be, as now people are starting to leave for the weekend, and I just inquired as to, did they return it by chance in error to the Credit Valley Hospital, which is not where I was. OH! she said, maybe. Again I suggest rescheduling the appointment, but they say "no just give us 10 more min." So I do. They finally find it in the out going mail pile and then I'm in. I'm under the usual squash, and a repeat squash just to make sure. And then we'd like you to have an ultra sound. So off I to that, and then you listen to the technician hyming and hahing like she's found a lump the size of an orange or bigger. You clean up and wait, and wait. We are now into hour # 3. And then you get called back in just for one more look, The DOCTOR would like to take a look. I'll never forget waiting with an elderly lady one time. She came out with this big smile on her face, saying "I've always been told my breast were spectacular. (I think the report is "there is nothing outstanding). I thought with all these call backs I better get someone say my boobs were spectacular or else. They sure were sore. Well no outstanding news, not yet anyway.
Recently one of my painting pals was diagnosed with breast cancer on one breast then on another, and then a hysterectomy for good measure, then some skin cancer all in a time frame of 3 months. So you can imagine what was going through my mind with all this waiting. My painting pal attended a fund raising event where they were selling these Breast self-examination kits. It is the most amazing invention, it's a gel pack you can feel grains of salt like they were the size of rice. The intention is for you to feel a lump when it is still very small, or not to miss a small lump. I think if and when I get the green light after all this squeezing, I shall routinely use my kit. With all those pink ribbons in stores and so much fund raising going on to end breast cancer days, I wonder how close we are. I sure hope they improve their mammography equipment, I'll be sore for a week now. So don't touch my freshly squeezed...

photo insert or a kizmo I purchased to check my boobs.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Irene,I finally made it to your blog and what do I read about---boobies and the concerns we have over them. Too big, too small, too lumpy and now hanging way too low. You are right let us find a cure so that no one else we know or love has to go through this disease. love Janice

National Pet Day...

This is our pet cat, he lived with us for 18 years, adopted from a shelter, best cat ever. RIP Keahan