What better way to start a week, and end the post wedding celebrations that suffering the pain of a mammogram? The Biannual checkup.
I should have suffered it at the beginning of the year, but when the reminder letter arrived, I declared “This is nonsense, it is only a year since my last mammogram. Stupid government department”. I threw the letter in the bin.
A follow up phone call, decided I was the stuff and nonsense as it really was two years since my last squish. Sadly the holidays were over and school about to resume, so I made an after school appointment. It turned out the same day as an important meeting and I had to cancel.
So I decided to make an end of term appointment. However, I didn’t want to be a downer at Daughter2’s wedding in case something worrying came out of the examination. Not that I expect that, but better to not be a blight.
Why I thought that the very first working day after the wedding would be a good idea I can’t understand, but there I went Monday afternoon.
I was so tired that I ticked the box claiming to be indigenous, of which I am not. The receptionist very politely queried my claim. I compounded this by not being about to remember how to spell my own doctor’s name. Okay, it might be one of those Scottish names with a qu and an h in it, but I am a teacher!
A bright young student radiographer pushed and flattened but always got it wrong, so the radiographer proper had to reposition to enhance the flattening until I thought I would pass out from the pain. Then she made some quiet remark about “looking at the lady’s previous files I would check the upper….” I can’t remember the region she said. I should have asked questions but I was suffering pain and so I didn’t think about it until I left.
Now I don’t know if I should be mildly worried, or just to think that maybe some area wasn’t all that clear last time and they wanted to make sure it was cleared this time. I figure if there was some concern they wouldn’t have waited two years for another test. This is why it was wise to schedule after the wedding.
Not worried, not really, more annoyed at myself for not speaking up at the time. Tiredness made me dull headed.
And wondering about the title, “Don’t you need your dress washed”? Mr FD asked me just that question on Monday morning. It was what I thought he asked me, anyway. I wondered why he was so concerned about my laundry needs!
In reality he said, “Don’t you need your breasts squashed?” His way of asking me what I was doing Monday afternoon!
Yep, I got the breasts squashed. What did you do with your day?