Health and Fitness : Laugh With Kathy - The Mammogram

Thursday, September 27, 2012: My sweet husband took the day off and came with me to my mammogram appointment. I didn't want to ask him to do this, but it is so nice to have him here. I am nervous. As we sit in the waiting room and wait for the technician to come get me, my leg is tapping as I try to watch whatever is on the waiting-room television. I feel my shoulders tighten up as the minutes drag on. The X-ray tech calls my name, and Gene says, "I'll be right here."� Time to disrobe. "Snaps go in the front,"� the tech says. A million thoughts are going through my head as I try to concentrate on what the tech is saying. When will someone design a cool-looking cape for women getting mammograms? Or even a warm one? The room is so cold. I feel vulnerable without my bra. I have been pretty good about getting regular mammograms. I haven't gotten them every year, but overall, I have done pretty well. My last mammogram was fourteen months ago and was normal, so I tell myself not to get too excited. But I know this is different. Deep inside I know that this isn't going to be good news. I think I know what to expect in this mammogram, but I'm about to be surprised. We take the normal images of both breasts. The tech explains that it is normal to do both breasts even though I felt a lump in only one breast, and I was due for a mammogram anyway. She then explains that we are going to take some more-detailed images. She wasn't kidding. "Detailed images"� is medical shorthand for "We are going to squeeze your breasts in so many directions they will resemble Silly Putty when we are done!"� As she gets me clamped in for the next set of images, the tech explains that these images are going to be very uncomfortable. I blink. As if the first set weren't already uncomfortable. As she clamps down, she asks, "How are you doing?"� I would respond, but I'm pretty sure my lower lip is also clamped in the vise along with my breast, so I can't speak. After several detailed images, she tells me to sit down. The tech is going to talk to the radiologist and see if she wants any other X-rays. I glance at the wall of various attachments for the mammogram machine. I wonder briefly what they are all for. Unfortunately, I'm about to find out. The tech returns and tells me that we need more images of my right breast and that the radiologist also wants more images of the left breast before we go to sonogram. (Dang! This can't be good.) The tech tells me my husband is in with the radiologist. That really can't be good. We take close-up images, side images, and I'm squeezed to a point where I can't even whimper when the tech asks if I'm doing okay. She shows me an image of the left breast and points out the calcification they are seeing on the X-rays. It looks like little specks of pepper. There are more specks than I can count quickly, but not thousands. That's not so bad, right? My ears start ringing. I think about asking to sit down, but I don't want to make a scene. I crack jokes with the tech. I am determined to keep up a good front. *In recognition of October being Breast Cancer Awareness month, Dean and Val have asked me to share some stories from my book Laugh With Kathy, Finding humor in the journey through breast cancer. Each week day during October, I will post an excerpt from my book on Vinton Today. Our hope it that these articles will give you a glimpse into what it takes to beat breast cancer. Please note that I was diagnosed with breast cancer four years ago, had two years of treatment and I am now living cancer free.