is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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Scatchamagowza!
This morning I woke up after a 14 hour fast, got to the blood-taking lab at 8am, had two vials of blood taken, then had my you've-just-turned-40 congratulatory mammogram. And it hurt! I'm talking about the mammogram, not the blood letting. I had been told that mammograms were painful, especially for small breasted women. So I thought maybe it would not be very painful, since I'm not very small breasted... as if there were some sort of pain ratio at work? Anyway, it is impossible, I suppose, to say with any certainty that my mammogram was "more" or "less" painful than anyone else's, given the nature of pain. The funny thing is that upon the first vise-grip squeeze of the first breast in the plastic torture machine, the first thing I said to myself (inwardly, thankfully), was "Scatchamagowza!". That's what Greg the Bunny says whenever he is shocked by something. And that's the first thing that popped into my head during the initial squeeze routine.
You have to go through four squeeze routines (two each, at different angles). The technician handles your breast and places your body in odd standing positions, and then lowers the machine into squeeze mode. And then, once everything is squeezed, she tightens it just a bit more? For science? Or fun? Then she strides purposefully over to her popemobile (she has to stand behind a plastic shield that looks like said protective vehicle), turns the machine on, and the machine takes a bit of time to gram your mammo. All the while you are still held in the vise-grip, be mindful. Scatchamagowza!
Just before the first attack, the technician tells you that you will experience some pressure and discomfort, but that it won't last long. In retrospect, I think the word "discomfort" is ill chosen, or perhaps just euphemistic. I mean, "discomfort" is built into the situation, no? There you are, standing topless in a room with a dressed stranger, who is handling your mammos with scientific force, and yet what follows is going to cause "discomfort"? I think the technician should just say "you will experience some painful pressure but it won't last very long." Or perhaps she should just cackle diabolically and rub her hands together (that would at least be hilarious). But maybe some people panic even at the use of the word "pain" (or at diabolical hilarity), hence the euphemism "discomfort." Who knows. Is it a culture of dishonesty or is it sensitivity, and where, really, is the line between the two?
I was trying to think, between the various feelings of "pressure and discomfort," how to place the experience on a pain scale. Was it more or less painful than epilating? Than having an eye injury? Than having an infected 2nd degree burn? Than having really bad menstrual cramps? I can only rely on things that have happened to me in making my scale. It's hard to say, because it's such a particular kind of pain: it is intense, and very odd, but it is something you've submitted to willingly, and which you know will not last very long. So you think of it differently. If that kind of pain happened to me and I didn't know the reason or how long it would last, it would definitely be panic-level pain. It might be on par with epilating, except that epilating doesn't leave residual pain, whereas the mammosqueeze does have some lasting effects, though nothing dire. Let's just say that while I was waiting for each squeeze period to end I was doing a bit of "talking myself down" in my internal dialogue, trying to keep myself calm.
After the being famished and getting my blood taken and undergoing Dr. Vise, I looked into my bag at the emergency container of yogurt I had brought and thought, "no way. i need some papa smurfing* food satisfaction STAT." So I went to St. Francis. Levon wasn't there, but that grilled banana bread was, and so were Peter's luscious homefries, two eggs over medium, and a huge pepsi. I mean, I had already had my cholesterol and blood sugar blood tests taken, so why not? (Ha.)
Then I came back to Beattymatt and slept for 1.5 hours.
*"papa smurfing" is my latest attempt at replacing expletive phrases with more genial phrasings that still deliver some form of emphasis along with their content. you can guess what papa smurfing stands in for, i'm sure.
1:12 p.m. - August 16, 2006
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