men are so lucky (lyn)

They don’t have to get yearly mammograms.  The procedure isn’t bad; it’s the waiting.
 
I start to get anxious the night before my appointment.  I imagine all sorts of scenarios ending with, “We found something.”  I have no reason to think this will be the case, but it is what I think about.

In the radiologist’s waiting room area are several other women, all dressed alike in green, open-at-the-front robes.  The topic is politics.  One young-ish woman is talking about Big Bird whom Romney slammed in last week’s debate (as in, “I like PBS. I like Big Bird. ... The issue is whether the Federal government should be subsidizing it").   She is telling the story that she “just heard" despite it being all over the news and late night talk shows for a week.  Another women brings up Obama’s flawed health care plan and says she is almost done reading the 2,000 page report on it.  And a third, older woman, who appears to be knowledgeable and well-heeled, has never heard of Keurig coffee makers.  Nice as these women probably are, I cannot relate to any of them.

I am called for my mammogram.  Squish, squish, done.  I am sent back to the waiting room.  Other women come and go but I remain.  Now I’m sure something is wrong.  Finally I get called for my sonogram.  Usually my doctor tells me that my mammogram is fine before the sonogram.  Today she doesn't, which raises another alarm.  To make me less anxious, I strike up a conversation with the sonogram technician, who is originally from central Siberia.  She tells me they have four seasons there, and that the weather is much like it is here, but there is no humidity and the winters are a little colder.  I find this interesting and for about twenty seconds I forget why I’m here.

Finally, my doctor comes in and tells me  everything is fine.  I am so relieved I almost cry.