It's Boob-Squishin' Day!

Today I had my very first mammogram.  Everyone told me how awful it would be.  Well, I just have to say that this is one benefit of having have GINORMOUS BOOBS!  Yeah, it didn't hurt at all getting squished!  I was like, when's it going to hurt?

It was a little weird having an unknown female person fondling grabbing touching manuevering my boobs into place on the machine.  But, then, I guess it was okay because I knew she was just a medical person and that's what they're trained to do.

I saw this comic above and just about died laughing.  Katie-did, this one's for you.  I hope it makes you laugh finally!

This is the lovely machine that was used.  I wish I'd had someone with me so they could have taken an actual picture of me, but I went alone.  I wasn't really nervous or anything.  I guess I just realized it was all part of the cycle of womanhood.  I thought about a recent conversation I had with a special almost "young lady."  We had talked about getting her period for the first time and what it would be like.  It brought back memories of the time I first got my period.  Oh how awful that was.  Really.  Gross.  Yuck.  Nobody had told me about it possibly happening.  I bloomed young so I hadn't been through the school maturation program yet either.  But, I remember how my mom was so excited for me and just had to call my grandma and my aunts and everyone else.   My grandma even came to Utah for a visit and brought with her some Avon liquid deoderant and other girly things.  I guess she was proud of me for joining the ranks.  I, on the other hand, was just mortified.  And...back then, we wore pads with straps that hooked in the front and back of a belt you wore around your waist.  Yeah, it was so like wearing a diaper!  Yuck! 

ANYHOW....so I'm standing there with my boob squished into the machine thinking about this conversation and it makes me think about the cycle of womanhood.  You start out all young, perky, and innocent.  You finally get your period for the first time and every month after that (unless you were me after age 18).  You have to start wearing a bra.  You have kids (unless you were me).  Your boobs hang down a little more (unless you were me - mine hang down a lot because they are GINORMOUS).  You turn 40 and all of a sudden your gyno doctor says, "Congratulations!  It's time for a mammogram!"  You put it off and put it off because you just don't have time in your busy life.  Then, one day, your cousin finally passes away from her own horrible bout of boob death and you finally wake up and decide you need to do this for her and for yourself and for all the other women out there dealing with boob cancer.  So, you finally arrange an appointment to have it done.  You go and get squished.  And then, you do it every year for the rest of your life.  Then, menopause sets in and FINALLY you are done with your periods and then your skin turns all soft and the elasticity is gone and you get granny skin.

In all seriousness though...I did do it because I have been thinking a lot about Wendy since we went to her grave on our way home from California.  I realized that I didn't want to go through all she went through.  So, I decided that I really did need to get this taken care of.  Did you know that breast cancer starts 5-8 years before it's usually found?  It starts off the size of a grain of salt.  I mean, think about it.  Get up right now...go to the kitchen.  Get out your salt shaker and sprinkle out a grain.  See how tiny that is?  That's what it looks like when it starts...that SMALL.  It's so important to detect it early.  I challenge anyone who actually reads my blog to join with me in honoring our Wendy.  She died on the 30th of September.  Every month, on the 30th, be sure to do your breast self-exam.  And, if you're 35 or older, or a family member to Wendy, please talk to your doctor about getting a mammo done...soon...and regularly.

I guess I should fess up a little about the pain.  The squishing didn't hurt at all, as I said.  However, the skin under my boobs is very sensitive and so when the technologist would lift the boob table up to get it into the right position, it would rip the skin under my boob.  Yeah, I think that hurt far more than the squishing ever could have.  But, in the end, it's all worth it. 

See ya next year on tax day, mammo machine!