Modern Torture Device: Part Two

The Vice

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I’m going to give it to you straight. No candy-coated shell here, but maybe a chewy center as the end reward.

The day of my mammogram arrives.

I shower and skip the lotion/perfume/deodorant per the radiology center’s instructions.

The location is new, extremely clean, and the waiting room is pleasantly empty.

Since I filled out all of the forms online (family history, personal history, uploaded photo of insurance card, ID, and order from primary care doctor), all I have to do is pay the $40 for the enhanced breast cancer detection.

I slide my debit card through the machine and sign my name then go have a seat next to Joe.

Shortly after a woman appears and calls out my name. I pop up and follow her to the back hallway whilst I channel the focus that allows me to remain calm in stressful situations.

She shows me an area with a changing room, lockers, and piles of hospital robes. She tells me to undress from the waist up and put on a robe with the opening facing the front.

I quickly undress, throw on the robe, and take a seat while I wait for her return.

Before I get a chance to stew in my anxiety, she promptly appears again and I follow her into a large room with a big machine in the middle.

There it is.

The vice.

We get right to it.

She helps me open the robe and immediately places these weird stickers on my nipples. I saved them so you could see:

They are nipple markers that readily identify the nipple on the scan which serves as a landmark when multiple images are captured.

I tell her it is my first time and to please be gentle.

She laughs and says, of course.

This technician is kind, calm, and confident. She is extremely professional and so comfortable that it makes me feel comfortable. (Which was really helpful because she was alllll up in my breast business.)

I have heard an array of experiences when it comes to mammograms from completely painless to really painful. Obviously breast size is a factor. I am what you would call well endowed. No implants Lots to squish and potentially hurt.

Being completely done with the not knowing, I’m ready to find out what my particular experience will be.

“We’re going to start with the right side first.”

I move closer to the vice and place my right breast on the flat surface. She pushes my right shoulder back and tells me to put my hand on my hip. I feel like a toddler taking dance class for the first time as she manually moves my body parts into place. I can’t help but giggle because it feels so awkward.

She tells me to hold my breath as she walks over to her battle station that controls the mammogram machine. A large cylinder comes down as my breast is squished between the two flat surfaces.

In my head: !!!!!!! That’s a significant squeeze!!!!!!

It’s very uncomfortable and teetering on painful.

I hear 4 quick beeps then the cylinder raises back up and she tells me I can breathe again.

Relief!

She walks back over to me and turns the vice slightly sideways. Once again, she contorts my body in the correct position. This time I am so close to the machine, the right side of my face is literally plastered against the shield that protects the cylinder.

In my head: God, I hope this machine was sanitized.

There are little handles on the side of the mammogram machine that you can hold onto and I grip them for balance.

“You will feel some pulling on your skin with this one and it might be uncomfortable, this is normal. Hold your breath again for me.”

I brace myself as the vice clamps down firmly. It is indeed pulling my skin, and not only is it uncomfortable, it is painful.

My boob

Also my boob

The pain lasts about 5 seconds and after the 4 beeps, the machine frees my breast. The technician tells me I can breathe again.

I ask her if I can take my robe off because it keeps getting in the way and she says, of course.

One less thing for both of us to maneuver as I am bent into a shape that allows my top half to fit into the machine just so.

Now it is time for the left breast.

She contorts my body in the exact same way as before but on the opposite side. More holding of the breath, more squeezing, more skin pulling, more beeps.

“You can breathe normally now.”

I exhale and step out of the machine for the final time while she stays at the battle station.

“It will take about a week to get your results back and they will be sent to your doctor. Since this is your first scan, he might order an ultrasound as well. This is normal so don’t be alarmed if that’s the case.”

“Thank you so much, I’m all done?”

“Yup, all done, you’re free to go.”

I slide on the robe and go back to the changing room to get dressed.
I look at the time.
Barely 10 minutes from start to finish.
Impressive.

My verdict?

It was unpleasant and uncomfortable—at times painful—but very quick.

Compared to what I’ve heard about colonoscopies, this was a breeze.

I hope I’ve managed to demystify the mammogram for those who have yet to experience it and I’m wildly proud of myself for following through with this very important health screening.

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In my youth, I harbored much contempt for life and the living of it. Being blown into adulthood too soon often breeds contempt for the weight one is forced to carry at a time when others seem weightless. Ideally, adolescence is full of frivolity with plenty of time for discovery. I had neither. Once I reached adulthood, the contempt transformed into dread. Normal mishaps like a flat tire would spin my insides into utter chaos. A running trauma loop that would take weekly talk therapy and multiple sessions of EMDR to remedy.

Before I became well versed in the neurobiology of trauma, it was hard for me, and others to comprehend how I could be so venturesome in some aspects of my life and in others, (especially the regular living of it) a puddle of fright and anxiety. Knowing what we now know about trauma, it all makes perfect sense, and I’m able to approach it with the frivolity I so craved in my youth.

There are still moments when I’ll receive a twinge of that old familiar dread when things like mammograms cross my path but now I’m able to handle those feelings with some laughter, science, and grace.

It’s been a long, arduous road, but finally, I have arrived.

Maktub.

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Love always,

Jenovia

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