I’m having one of those mornings where I have added a couple of sentences to no less than five posts that I’ve started over the last couple of weeks. And I can’t seem to gain traction, for any long period of time, on any one of them. Ever have one of those mornings? It’s frustrating, to say the least.
Anyhoo, to add insult to injury this week, I had my yearly Mammogram appointment. Joy of joys, it is not. Necessary, though, it is. I just went all Yoda on you. I apologize… I think the smushing of the girls also inadvertently did something to the brain.
I’ve been going for 10 years (as The Nana had some fun lumps – as in both of her girls removed, when she was 40). And guess what? This is my 40-year-old Mammogram. And I’m a bit more than nervous. I keep repeating to myself that I’ve got a Faith bigger than my fear, no news is good news, early detection is key, and all them good thangs.
Here are a few things I’m going to try to remember for next year’s Annual Smush and Squish Appointment:
1. Don’t make appointment so early as to not even have time to grab a cup of coffee to see myself through the hour.
2. Don’t try out lame Tata jokes on the Mammographer. She will. Not. Laugh. Even when I break out into a rendition of “Do your boobs hang low, do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie em’ in a knot? Can you tie em’ in a bow?”.
3. Discomfort grows as does age.
3a.) Age grows as does discomfort.
4.) “I’ll position you.” And, “Don’t help.”, are code phrases for “Keep your dern hands to yourself! I’ll be the one handling your Tatas this morning, thank-you-very-much!” Whatevs…
5.) Schedule Mammogram on Hump Day next year. It’s far more appropriate.