There are a lot of words pinging around in that space inside my head -- sometimes they come together and make some kind of sense. When they do, I put them here, to make room for more.

Friday, October 16, 2009


I just had my annual mammogram -- like a good girl, I have one every year -- and honestly, this one was the most uncomfortable one ever. And by uncomfortable I mean painful. I can't believe no one has come up with a better way to look inside our breasts. It just makes no sense to take what is essentially a round object and to literally work to LIFT IT off your chest, yank it sideways, and then squash it flat. It brought me to tears.

The technician worked me like clay, as if she thought there were no muscles or tissue, never mind nerve endings, in any part of my body. I get that this is a job to her, but honestly, I was standing right there, a fully realized human being. I couldn't even get her to crack a grin, but once she started manhandling -- I mean, manipulating -- my breasts, it was clear she was all business. I stopped trying to talk, gritted my teeth, and just tried to make it go as quickly as possible.

And seriously, I don't understand why she doesn't just have me take that silly top off as soon as I walk in. Instead, we both pretend she isn't going to not only see but touch both of my breasts by the end of my time there. It makes no sense.

This is the 21st century; I challenge someone out there to come up with a kindler, gentler way to do this whole sordid procedure.

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