Jenyfer Matthews

A few weeks ago, at the end of May, I took advantage of a free annual physical that my husband’s employer was offering. I assume it was a way for the insurance company to gather data on the pool of participants so they could set the rates for next year, but whatever. Free check-up!

I did as much as I could that one day – blood work, chest x-rays, ECG, abdominal ultrasound, and an eye exam. I skipped the gynecological exam since I’d had one fairly recently, and was given a referral to another clinic for a bone density check and a mammogram. A week later I came down with a nasty virus and I was spending plenty of time seeing doctors, but I put the mammogram and bone density check out of my mind.

Until this week. I was planning to do the bone density check, which I assumed would be some sort of x-ray, and thought I’d skip the mammogram. I’ve never had one but I can say that every account I’ve ever had from anyone who has was completely off-putting. I tried to let myself off the hook by saying that breast cancer doesn’t run in my family and that my odds were also lower because I breastfed both of my children. In the end I guilted myself into going by saying that there might come a day when I wished I’d been more proactive.

I wouldn’t have procrastinated my appointment for so long if I had known it was going to be so amusing.

The bone density exam was a little more involved than I expected, but still just an elaborate xray. The table was so comfortable I could have taken a nap. Then came the mammogram.

I stepped into the next room with my female technician who instructed me to take off my top while she fiddled with putting x-ray films in the machine. Then came the funny bit: positioning my breast between the sheets of plastic.

I am a thin person, and not particularly well-endowed. Not quite flat-chested, but age and gravity have taken their toll. Picture this technician with her head scarf trying to hold my tiny breast in place with her hand as she attempts to squash it between two sheets of plastic for the x-ray. She kept getting her hand caught in the the process, then every time she opened the plates to free herself, my breast would slip out of position. I offered to help out but she wouldn’t let me (like I couldn’t see the markings on the plastic plate?)

I wish I’d had my watch on to keep track of how long it took her to get the necessary films, and knew how long it would take to do the same exam on a “perfect” subject. While she was adjusting my position, she asked me if I had children – I could hear the doubt in her voice. I told her yes, and that I had breastfed both of them and that the children were both HUGE. That got a laugh out of her.

The smashing part wasn’t bad – I think she took pity on my tiny orbs because she asked me if I was okay and in fact there was very little pressure at all.

After we finally got the films taken, I had the ultrasound done. These rooms all had at least two doors which could be locked and the doctors and technicians seemed to be pretty careful about how the exited so as to preserve some modesty for the patient. I appreciated that. After the ultrasound, the doctor handed me some tissue to wipe up the gel they used during the procedure and then opened the door to the hall to exit while I was lying there topless. Thanks a lot!

I was just preparing to leave when the first technician came to get me because the film of my left breast wasn’t good and we had to try again. More groping. Maybe I’ll bring some double stick tape with me next time!

A good friend happened to have the appointment just after mine. I never saw her but we were texting each other during little breaks in the procedures. She wrote to me to tell me that the mammogram technician was commenting to her that only small breasted women were coming in that day! (I always knew they talked about patients behind their backs!) My friend isn’t exactly small chested and she said as much. The technician replied that she had patients whose breasts oozed out from the sides of the plates. That was an image I could have lived without!

If only all doctor appointments could be so funny

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