Flat as a pancake
I have just been to collect the children at school and see that something called a Mammobile is parked in the main square. This is, I assume, a travelling mammogram that will test women for breast cancer. Personally I would rather be run over by it than go inside.
I had my first mammogram a few weeks ago. I can safely say it was the most painful, unpleasant experience I have ever been subjected to and yes, I do include childbirth in that. I knew I was in for a shocker when my mother-in-law told me she’d had one and “it wasn’t very nice”. My mother-in-law is one of those women who make you wonder how we ever lost the empire; stoical, determined and not one to grumble unless her leg is being chewed off.
So I was already nervous when I showed up at the sparkling X-ray clinic. But what was in store was worse than I could ever have imagined. My breasts were literally squeezed to within an inch of their lives between metal plates. “Don’t look,” said the nurse administering this torture. Don’t look? I couldn’t see them. They no longer existed. The last time I was called flat as a pancake I was thirteen. Here I was even flatter, in fact I dream about making pancakes that are as wafer-thin as my breasts were. The pain was excruciating and this process was repeated FOUR times on EACH breast. At one stage I thought about just running away. But it would have meant leaving one of my breasts clamped in the machine.
I have to say I don’t think my breasts have been the same since this horrible event. They seem to have lost some of their joie de vivre. I much prefer my own theory (see Alone at Last blog) for breast cancer prevention.
One thought I had as I was being squashed and flattened was that if the test for testicular cancer involved a similar process, I bet someone would have invented a new machine by now….So I will continue to support breast cancer charities in the hope that some kind person will, but I swear I will never ever subject my breasts to the barbarity of a mammogram again. At least not while I’m conscious.
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2007
25 Jan 2007 helena
Ouch,that brings back uncomfortable memories of my last one although I’ll have to say that for me childbirth is an out and out winner in the pain stakes.The mammogram had me gritting my teeth praying for release but the sensation was just extreme discomfort .Maybe something to do with the fact that my appendiges have been knocking (sorry just couldn’t resist that one) around for at least ten years longer than yours and they are supposed to get less dense with time.!!
Here in France they like to start screening in your forties and as I know quite a few people who contracted the dreaded disease in their thirties and I did work as a nurse in my youth I do feel honour bound to go.I try to put the scare stories ,usually heard from English friends (re:radiation and or the pressure from those cold plates spreading any existing cancer) out of my mind.Anyway I have probably recieved enough radiation working on 747’s for 14 years not to worry about the small amount from mammogram.!!
I’ve heard of a new more accurate test available at certain hospitals in the UK(The Princess Grace was quoted)maybe called a Digital mammogram .Worth checking out,although it is very expensive.It may just be less uncomfortable.
Thanks Carol, I for one will be checking that out - hang the expense, it’s worth it!
Omigad!! I’m clearly a bit behind here - I thought that for mammograms all you had to do was press your unclothed chest up against some strange upright machine and it took pictures of your insides! Eeek !
Your poor bazoomas! And what about those of us with fried eggs? It will never work! LOL!
Hello Spymum - I love your blog by the way. I am NOW flat as a pancake after the blooming mammogram, they just have never been the same since. I am hoping someone will come up with a non-surgical breast enhancement soon…..
Hx