Candy Canes and Mammograms

Some important business:
Firstly, I just ate a candy cane and enjoyed it a lot. Sure, my pancreas is now working overtime to provide enough insulin to compensate for the fact that I just ate pure sugar, but it was worth it. I'm in minty heaven.

Secondly, I have a new lady doctor. (This is a family place, kids. If you want to read smut words like "gynecologist," you'll have to go elsewhere.) After giving me a requisite breast exam, he said he felt some lumps, but that they could be normal changes that occur before menstruation. He suggested that I come back in a few weeks (at a different time in my cycle) for a second breast exam, just in case. Okay, fine. I chose not to panic. (Note for nervous friends/family members who don't want to wait until the end of this post: Not panicking was a great idea, as I'm fine and everything's cool, according to two exams and a mammogram. Hooray for health! Now, back to the chronology of events...)

THEN, he asked if I'd ever had a mammogram. I hadn't, and my understanding was that women didn't require them until at least 40. He explained that many doctors encourage their patients to have a baseline mammogram at 35 so that they have something to compare their future ones to (assuming the mammogram you have at 35 shows you to have healthy breast tissue).

So! Armed with the knowledge that my new doctor felt "lumps, but probably nothing to worry about," I left the building and scheduled my first mammogram. Everyone knows that smashing a body part between two plates isn't going to feel GOOD, but I'd heard a few stories that suggested real pain, not just discomfort. I was scared.

Here's the good news: It didn't hurt. It was barely uncomfortable. [Here is the part meant to comfort the ladies] Different women have different sensations and they say that certain breast types will feel more discomfort. I can't remember if softer-tissued breasts or denser breasts feel more pain, but, regardless, it's not the intensely painful and lengthy procedure you fear it is. I learned that my tissue is on the dense side of average, and, for what it's worth, it really wasn't bad. The machine compresses the breast between two plastic plates, yes. But its goal is not to smash you until you can't bear it. It just needs a firm enough grip to get a good scan. I wouldn't want to eat lunch in the thing, but for the three or four seconds of compression, I was just fine. Once, it really smarted for about a split second. Then, it released. Don't be scared, I beg of you. This is coming from a woman who was VERY scared and who does not have a particularly hearty or cavalier philosophy about pain. Translation: I went in there feeling like a sissy, expecting to have to really struggle through something horrible. I left whistling whatever song was playing in the elevator and thinking about lunch. Nooooooo worries at all. [End lady comfort]

There was nothing humiliating or demeaning about it at all, either. The mammographer was a heck of a gal and we shot the breeze the whole time. I even managed to make her laugh pretty hard, which was fun.

WHAT? YOU WANT TO HEAR WHAT I SAID? OKAY. So I'm sitting there with my gown on, open in the front, answering her questions before I stand up and get positioned at the machine thingy. Her head's down, and she's diligently recording my answers on her clipboard.

"Is there a history of breast cancer in your family?"
Nope.

"Have you ever had any breast surgery?"
Nope.

"Do you have breast implants currently?"
Yeah, but I'm thinking I should get my money back.

The mammographer looks up from her clipboard, eyes my 36As, and trumpets out a big, snorty laugh.

SCORE! Radiologists love a good laugh, I tell ya.

The moral of the story is this: If you have breasts, do frequent self-exams and make sure a professional checks you out every year. (Here is a 5-step diagram of how to do a self-exam.) If you have 35-year-old breasts, get a baseline mammogram and continue your self-exams. If you are prone to feeling "lumpy" at certain times during your menstrual cycle, do your exams more often so that you become familiar with what's "normal" for you before and after your period. Some women are kind of cystic and their terrain is a bit bumpier than other women's (that doesn't mean that they are any more or any less prone to cancer. It just means that they're bumpy and that's fine - but get to know your normal/healthy bumps so you can tell if a new, unhealthy bump shows up). Your caffeine intake can also affect how "lumpy" you feel.

In other words, I'm fine and my doctor was just concerned (not alarmed), but this was still a bit frightening. I'm now even more motivated to keep myself healthy and to know what's going on with my body. For example, right now, my insulin level has skyrocketed to compensate for that candy cane I ate and I'm really close to dozing offffzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz


P.S. If clowns and cancer scare you, I'm really sorry about this post and its pictures.