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.






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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