Thursday, February 19, 2009

A Trip Down Mammary Lane

I did it: I called the clinic. I made the appointment. I am getting my first mammogram next Friday.

'Tis the season, apparently, for gritting your teeth and doing the things you need to do that really hurt.

I also took a certain teenaged daughter of mine, who shall remain nameless to protect her privacy, for her very first pelvic exam today. She probably dreaded it just as much as I am dreading my first mammogram, but I suspect I'm a lot nearer to being right. I scheduled her appointment with one of the practice's female doctors (my own OB/GYN, you may recall, is a delightful, fun-loving guy called "Buzz"), who was fortunately also young and cheerful, matter-of-fact and kind.

My daughter is about six months older than I was when my mom took me for my first pelvic exam, but not a jot more nervous. I had a dream about it the night before my appointment. "Look at this gorgeous spring weather!" exclaimed the doctor, after I'd finished changing into a stunning buttless sheath.* "What a shame to be cooped up indoors on a day like this! Let's go do your exam out on the lawn."

Right next to the street, too. Why didn't I at least dream somebody got into a car crash?

I had to make my appointment, though, because my IUD is about to expire. I'm not sure how I'll know when this happens. Maybe some sparks will shoot out, followed by a wisp of smoke; this could be either really cool or kind of embarrassing, depending on whether I'm in mixed company or not. Maybe it suddenly goes "ding!" and shoots out across the room - again, possibly in awkward circumstances. More likely, I'll be eyeing that really cute waiter at Green Pastures and suddenly find myself knocked up.

Whatever the case, I need to go see Buzz to have the matter looked into (hee!), but I can't go see him until after I get the mammogram, because last time he lectured me very sternly for not having done it yet, and beat me about the knees with his clipboard, too. Buzz takes my health very seriously.

I guess somebody has to. At least my daughter is okay.

*Band name! Or album name - or something.

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