Time for the mammo

Time for the mammogram.
This is my first time having one at a different hospital.
(My oncologist wanted me to keep everything all in one place)
It's also my first time having one after cancer.
(Not counting the scare I had a few months back but that was in the fake new boob not the real boob)
(You know. For those following along)

I wasn't overly anxious.
Which I know,  I totally shocked myself too.

(Especially, because there's a new sister that I know in the sorority and when I learned of her diagnoses I relived my own.  Because that's what we do. Torture ourselves)

Yea this new era sucks.

The era of our friends, siblings, friends of friends getting cancer.

The era of mammograms.

So I did the drill.
Checking off the boxes of no I haven't fallen in the last 6 months nor do I need assistance.
I did need assistance reading the small piece of paper without my reading glasses but no one was calling the optometrist stat so off I went.
To sit down with the other ladies in waiting.

Put belongings in the plastic bag. Put on short, unflattering robe.(Although new mammogram place has a lovely plum colored short robe)

Wait til your name is called.
(So thankful for my short married name and do not miss my mispronounced maiden name that I had to constantly spell out)

They put a sticky thing on my scar from my port so it doesn't show up in any scans.
She asks me when my last surgery was.
October.
I say.
Definitively.

Oh wait. Nope. January.
 I think.
Wait, was it March?
Yes. March.

Multiple surgeries blend into one giant date.

And I'm still playing the chemo brain card.

Stand half exposed as they compress real breast into vice, stand on tippy toes while gripping on to side bars and clench teeth until they tell you "and breathe".

"Don't move" she says.
Okay lady. I know you've been in this position before, you gotta be kidding me by telling me don't move.
My breast is gripped into a clear large vice and I'm pretty sure my arm pit is in there too. Where on earth could I go?

Repeat.

And repeat.

I don't like new mammogram place.
Last place I got to wait with all the other nervous nellies and wait for the scans to be immediately read.
While I ate graham crackers.
This place...

"So. You should get your results in probably 3-4 days"
I'm sorry. I must've misheard you.
DAYS?
Have you met me and my insomniac stressed out anxiety ridden self?
( I know I said I wasn't overly anxious. You didn't really believe that did you? Days of waiting? That's just not nice to a cancer girl)

I waited.
And waited.
5 days later.
"We are waiting for your old films to compare"

They might as well have told I'm doomed because negative nellie here doesn't do well with this.
Bottom line is I'm fine.

Lesson learned is ...
yea, no lesson learned.

We are anxious people when it has to do with our breasts and cancer.
Especially when we've already walked the damned walk.
Do us a favor and make days turn into hours.
And give us the grahams please.