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With my steps slowing, I follow the technician into the darkened room. A monitor glows. The only source of light is an overhead spotlight. I step up and face the dreaded machine, willing my mind to take me somewhere else.
“Step forward a little. Turn your head. Lean to the left. Put your arm here, bend your elbow. Shoulder down. Reach over here. Tilt your head back.”
As the machine squeezes, the final command, “Don’t breathe!”
A repeat performance on the right side.
A few moments of pain are required each year. These uncomfortable minutes could save my life. Thank goodness the yearly mammogram is over!
Because of a mammogram, they found something small in my sister. She has cancer. She had surgery and is starting treatments. Thankful they found it and are fighting it! God is our strength.
Thank goodness is right! Aren’t they awful? I had one last year and the year before. It’s amazing how far technology has come since I had my first 10 years ago! They are able to determine what’s what in a matter of minutes now. It’s fascinating and very life saving! Proud of you for going, Elsie!
As i was reading this piece, I kept thinking, is she talking about a mammogram machine? I was so glad the ending shared a positive ending – you are healthy.
So true! You made me laugh.
Dreaded yet necessary. Great message!
Yikes! Necessary but no fun!
An important message so well delivered.
You showed it well, Elsie. I’m glad it’s over for you, too. It is a blessing, though. I like where I go. They have pink bathrobes, little snacks and comfy sofas while we wait. They help make it bearable.
I appreciate the clinical voice you threw at the first few paragraphs of this slice, Elsie.
Not my favorite either, I tend to call it the squishem, squashem, squeezeemprocedure. I can think of a couple that I dislike even more. But like you, the inconvenience is worth the mind being at ease.
I flinched at the final command. Alays hate the breast sandwich, but I go faithfully every 2 years. We have the ” Ontario Breast Screening Program (OBSP) -a province-wide, organized breast screening program ” and I am contacted every 2 years to make an appt.
It took me a bit to figure out what dreaded machine you were referring to . . . but that second paragraph of imperative directions nailed it for me. One of life’s little necessary evils.
Ugh…I know this, I hate this, but I (too) must do this. Glad that you did.
Well worth the discomfort. Thanks for the reminder that we all need to take care of ourselves.
Ugh! Those few minutes are the worst! You’re right! Necessary. Keep it up.
I hope that all is well! I appreciated how your slice reminds readers that while this process is painful and uncomfortable, it is so important.
Well done, my friend! Going through cancer with my sister makes me want to spread this message far and wide!
they’re not my favorite things either!! glad its over!
I found myself on the edge of my seat, wondering which machine you were dreading. Was it an MRI? an X-ray? Oh, it’s a mammogram! I have yet to have one, but I hear it’s not too fun. Glad you are taking care of yourself.
So well put…..it’s the dread that gets to me….the dread of the appointment and the dread of the wait…..but it is better than NOT knowing. wonderful reflective poem
Ah…the dreaded mammogram. Having had a colonoscopy recently, I truly feel that trumps the mammography (pardon the pun) for being the yuckiest screening. Both are necessary evils, especially when we consider the options! Happy Valentine’s Day, and here’s hoping you get a great report!
The brevity of your slice is so appropriate for the subject of it. 🙂 I hope you had some comfort beverage or food afterward!
We can bear anything for a few minutes. When it’s all said and done, just knowing that all is good with our bodies is cause for celebration.
A little pain and discomfort is worth a year of mind at ease. Food always eases discomfort 😊