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Booby-cake

Booby-cake, booby-cake, mam-mo-gram,

Smash me a boob as fast as you can;

Pull it, squish it, and mark it with a B,

Crank that mother down for doctor to see.

I was very excited to hear that my mammogram center had updated their equipment to the latest 3-D imaging machine.

“Finally!” I thought, “an exam that won’t leave my bodacious tatas tortured!”

My enthusiasm drained, however, when I heard those fateful words.

“The tighter the better for an accurate image. Let me know when you can’t stand it anymore.”

Crank, crank, crank. I fight back a tear and she stops.

“Hold your breath,” she instructs me. My breathing is already shallow from the pain and I fear I may not have enough oxygen in my lungs to sustain me through the machine’s rotation, but I know that if I pass out, I’ll end up with my right one hanging way lower than my left one, and somehow I manage to remain upright.

I try not to hate her. She’s just doing her job and by the time she needs one of these exams, they will have a pain-free method.

But for now I try to pretend I don’t mind having this young booby-tech treating my lady lumps like they were pizza dough.

Finally, the assault ends and I head to the bathroom where I apply deodorant. The bathroom is lovely…updated sink, flowers, hand towels stacked in a neat pile, soap and lotion…and a picture that—without my assistance—hangs lower on one side than the other.

“Hold your breath,” I say, and snap a photo. “That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”

I head home, wondering if all this is really necessary, and decide that I just might skip next year’s appointment. “The girls” will be tickled.

bathroom

 

 

 

 

By author

Laurel lives and laughs and publishes and podcasts in Colorado's Rocky Mountains! She has published several multi-genre books and hosts the podcast "Alligator Preserves," where she interviews fascinating people, talks about the human condition, and shares scary stories from her "Dark Ebb" collection.

4 replies on “Booby-cake”

I’ve heard that the “latest” news suggests we do not need to do this every year. Hooray for that!

Sorry I missed this part, much better explanation. So you did have the “digital” kind, yes? Since I’ve been able to have the digital kind I haven’t been squeezed as much as before. Plus they’re much quicker than the old fashioned ones that needed multi X-ray pictures! Still not as much fun as the pelvic exam!

You’re funny! No, I’m afraid mine was the old “squeeze ’em till they scream” machine with an extra go-round for 3-D effect. Harrumph.

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