Thursday, August 9, 2012

Call me, maybe!?!

It's been 66 hours since I had my annual Mammogram/MRI.  This is what the inside of my brain sounds like:

Why haven't they called me?  Is something wrong?  Why does the hospital run so many commercials during the Olympics?  Is it to keep reminding me that they haven't called?  Is not calling yet good news or bad news?  Google "Mammogram Photos."  Should I call them?  Again, with the damn commercials.  Maybe I should read the Message Boards on FORCE.  No, that'll just remind they haven't called.  Maybe no call is good news, if it was bad news they would want to talk to me right away, right?  Why haven't you called me yet?  Google "Breast MRI Photos."  Nope, no missed calls.  Okay, think about something other than boobs.  God, my bra is really annoying me right now. Ah!  Bras and boobs!  Okay, phone's ringing.  Not them.  Why haven't they called me?  Read the news, yeah the news.  Damnit!  Another Beaumont ad!  Stop advertising and just call me!

Sunday, August 5, 2012

A (stolen) diddy about Mammograms

For years and years they told me,
Be careful of your breasts.
Don’t ever squeeze or bruise them.
And give them monthly tests.
So I heeded all their warnings,
And protected them by law.
Guarded them very carefully,
And I always wore my bra.
After 30 years of astute care,
My gyno, Dr Pruitt,
Said I should get a Mammogram

“OK,” I said, “let’s do it.”
“Stand up here real close” she said,
(She got my boob in line),
“And tell me when it hurts,” she said,
“Ah yes! Right there, that’s fine.”
She stepped upon a pedal,
I could not believe my eyes!
A plastic plate came slamming down,
My hooters in a vise!
My skin was stretched and mangled,
From underneath my chin.
My poor boob was being squashed,
To Swedish Pancake thin.
Excruciating pain I felt,
Within it’s viselike grip.
A prisoner in this vicious thing,
My poor defenseless tit!

“Take a deep breath,” she said to me,
Who does she think she’s kidding?!?
My chest is mashed in her machine,
And woozy I am getting.
“There, that’s good,” I heard her say,
(The room was slowly swaying.)
“Now, let’s have a go at the other one.”
Have mercy, I was praying.
It squeezed me from both up and down,
It squeezed me from both sides.
I’ll bet SHE’S never had this done,
To HER tender little hide.
Next time that they make me do this,
I will request a blindfold.
I have no wish to see again,
My knockers getting steam rolled.
If I had no problem when I came in,
I surely have one now.
If there had been a cyst in there,
It would have gone “ker-pow!”
This machine was created by a man,
Of this, I have no doubt.
I’d like to stick his balls in there,
And, see how THEY come out!

Friday, July 13, 2012

Family Onset Age - Insert horror movie soundtrack here!

Well, I'm in the weeks leading up to my annual exam.  This year we're doing the mammogram and MRI at the same time.  Why?  I'm not sure, but it's what my NP and Dr ordered.

Every year I'm stressed out, high anxiety, on full alert in the weeks, days, and hours leading up to my appointment.  This year you can multiply that by a kajillion because this year, I've reached my family onset age.

I'm hoping my ability to only compartmentalize my feelings kicks into overdrive and calms my crazy ass down!  I've been able to only think about the big BC once a month when I do my SBE, let's see if I can make that compartment even larger for this looming day.

T Minus 23 days till I spend a thousand bucks to not have cancer!!