February 24, 2012 § Leave a comment
if you are not familiar with Spanx let me give you the best definition I can. Spanx are ladies undergarments that work to smooth out all your lumps while squeezing all your fat back to your spine. You may say “Oh my god that sounds painful, why would you ever wear such a contraption?” and my answer to you is, yes they are uncomfortable but they make it possible for me to get into outfits that otherwise would still live at the back of my closet and frankly breathing is highly overrated. What do Spanx look like? They come in the basic colors black, white and nude and go under your bra line to just above your knee. So basically you are wearing a full 30’s style bathing suit under your outfits.
Foolishly I scheduled my mammogram right after work so I had no time to change and frankly didn’t even think about it. I still try and look nice when I go to the doctors office, I just don’t want to be the woman in the corner wearing the Tweety Bird sweatpants that everyone is looking at. So I am in my work clothes when they call me back to the testing room and the woman hands me a robe and tells me to undress from waist up and she’ll be back in a few minutes. Weirdly my first thought is “hey a free robe, I wonder how I can sneak it out of here without being seen” but then my thoughts quickly shift to a much more pressing matter “Oh shit I’m wearing my Spanx!” Some of you maybe be asking yourself why is this a problem, well I am about to share my mortification to spare future women from doing the same. I am not only wearing Spanx but a full dress, which means I have nothing on my bottom except Spanx and industrial strength panty hose. Let me explain another problem with Spanx, much like the levee’s during a flood they loose strength and start to give way at the end of your day. As I take off my dress and bra I realize just how bad the situation is I am standing there braless with my Spanx pulled under my breasts with a partial muffin top, I am the female naked Stephen Urkel. I can’t have another person look at me like this, hell I don’t even look at myself like this I get dressed in the dark. Maybe I can trying rolling them down to my waist, when I start to do this all the stuffed fat is starting to make it’s great escape not to mention you can’t real roll Spanx. Ok, what if I just take everything off, and just stand here in my underwear, no shit the Spanx are my underwear damn it. I actually contemplate going naked, I mean I’ve got a robe, I could just say I misunderstood her directions, however I am reminded that in lieu of shaving my legs this morning I opted for 5 minutes of extra sleep, damn. So here are my choices A. Get naked and look like Bigfoot and possibly a crazed nudist B.Try an fashion some underwear out of gauze, towels and tissues (now thats a challenge for Project Runway) or C. Stay as I am looking like a overstuffed tube of cookie dough that is slowly oozing from the top. None are great but I opt for the third one put on my robe and hope she won’t notice. Surely I can’t be the only woman who has worn a griddle to their mammogram. I hear the knock that I have been dreading, she walks in and her eyes get really wide. Oh, crap I was so busy with my lower half I didn’t realize that half of my hair has come loose and made it’s way to the side of my head, also because of all the adjusting I have managed to work up a pretty good sweat. How bad did I look? crazy enough for her to go “I’ll give you a few more minutes”
When she comes back I have managed to wipe the sweat off my face & repin my hair and she seems at ease that the crazed female banshee is gone. Little does she know the horror which is lurking for her under the robe.
In a side note I know I had to be her topic of conversation at the dinner table that night or perhaps when she tells people this is what happens- “She wore Spanx to her mammogram” no that isn’t true that’s just a mammogram urban legend.
February 23, 2012 § Leave a comment
so if you can follow the logic of this please email me & explain it to me, maybe I’m missing something
Just a quick recap in case you didn’t read my last few posts. First, shame on you my posts are hilarious. Second, they found a lump in my breast and I had to set up a consultation with a surgical oncologist ( see you totally missed all the funny parts, so there)
Unlike normal doctors appointments this one is mailed to you in a huge packet (which I’m convinced they do so you’ll be excited when you open it. Oooo are these my wine glasses for the bath tub I ordered off of eBay? nope, just cleverly disguised paperwork) It’s like you won an invite to an amazing, exclusive party, almost like Cinderella getting asked to the ball. They should have a little guy in a carriage announce it “Lady Michelle, You and your lumpy breasts have been cordially invited to the mammogram ball. Hence forth it will be held on the next fort night. Please adorn yourself in your finest wears since you will be showing off your ample bosoms to the entire kingdom. So it is written, so it is done. (I may have inter mixed my time periods)” The other thing that is different is that you have no control over the appointment, they could schedule you for 2am on a Sunday and guess what, that’s when your going.What that day you happen to be the maid of honor in your sisters wedding too damn bad, the surgical gods have spoken. Perhaps I’m getting a bit off track, all right time to stick with the original story:
My appointment happens to be in the very same office as my mammogram & sonogram was taken, so I was excited when one of the requirements was the following: Make sure to bring all films to your consultation. Lack of films will result in the cancellation of your appointment and a $25 rescheduling fee. Please call to verify that you have your films. Perfect they have my films there, so I don’t have do any prep work. I call the office and say, Hello, I have an appointment and am calling to verify that I have my films, well actually you have my films. “Did you bring them by the office already?” No, but I had my tests done in your office so you have my films. “You still have to get a copy of them and bring them in with you.” Excuse me.“You still have to get copies of your films in order to keep your appointment” But you have them there, they are in the same office. “It doesn’t matter ma’am, it’s the procedure.” Um… I’m sorry, I’m not understanding. “Ma’am to keep your consultation you must produce us with a copy of your films” Yes, but you have my films. You took the original films, they are there now. “You still need to follow the procedure, miss” Ok I promise I’m not trying to be difficult but let me just make sure I have this 100% right. I have to come to your office, the same office I have my appointment get copies of my films, even though you have the originals. Then I need to call you back confirm that I got my films from you and then on the day of my appointment come back to the same office and hand my films to you at the desk, the same person that made me the copies of the films. Do I have that right? “Yes, ma’am I’m glad we could clear up the confusion.” Click.
February 2, 2012 § 4 Comments
So when you have a hysterectomy you think you have outsmarted your own body. You think when you take out your uterus there’s no where for your body to grow weird things however just like in Jurassic Park, nature finds a way. One of the things they tell you when you start taking estrogen is that you need to make sure you are vigilant about giving yourself breast exams which I’m fine with but the way they tell you is a little odd; “Make a night out of it. Draw a hot bath, put on some nice music and bring some wine in their with you” Umm, do I really need to get my own self in the mood for a breast exam. I mean seriously, I would never let anyone touch me without at least a nice dinner first, not even myself.
Needless to say on one of these “date nights” I discovered something, at first I was hoping it was a rouge Milk Dud that somehow got lost under my shirt but then I remembered I would never let a Milk Dud get away. In a classic Me move I decided to ignore it for a month and hoped it went away. It didn’t. So I was on my way to a brand new doctors office solely dedicated to breasts.
First when you enter a place that only deals with boobs you wonder how big can it possibly be, I mean how many jobs around boobs can there be? The answer, a whole hell of a lot. The waiting room was a bit weird it was decorated like a mountain lodge complete with a fireplace, keurig coffe maker and magazines about bird watching. I so often think to myself “what would make this lump in my boob less scary? Smores! Yes perfect and hopefully a moose sighting”. I sign the sheet and then get asked “Who discovered the lump?” I did. “Did you personally or someone else?” What do you mean by someone else? “Did your boyfriend or husband discover it ?” (What kind of men has she been dating my boyfriend wouldn’t notice if I had a ham sandwich in my chest, when he sees boobs that’s it.) “Or possibly a friend?” (Seriously what kind of orgies does she think I am having. Hey you want to come over for a girls night? We can watch chick flicks, eat ice cream and of course feel each other up. I mean what kind of porn films is she watching)
I take my little clipboard to my seat and there is a terrifying picture on the bottom. It’s a woman with 6 breasts and it says mark below where you are having the problem. Not much shocks me since my hysterectomy & menopause but I start thinking to myself, is this why I have had so many ex boyfriends because I only have two boobs. What if I have been a medical freak all these years with my two boobs amongst all these 6 breasted women, or did I get the alien or circus freak form. So I go up to the desk and this is here actual explanation and if you can follow this you are smarter than me “Ok well it’s quite simple mark the two center ones if the problem is in the center quadrant of your breast or if you have only one breast, the next two you would mark if you have had implants or your pain is in the outer four corners. Mark the outer two if your pain is under your arm pits, the growth moves or if you had surgery in any of the areas. Got it” Umm sure. So I circled the whole illustration and sat down.
After reading the newest issue of Bluebird monthly it is time for my mammogram and a delightful technician who keeps telling me that people my age always do their breast exam wrong because we have naturally lumpy breasts takes me back. Just as I am about to step into the machine she sniffs the air and glares at me “are you wearing deodorant?” Of course, I’m not homeless. “You can’t wear deodorant during a mammogram!” (so this machine sometimes misses cancer but it doesn’t miss speed stick?) We do the standard mammogram, while she says “At your age were not going to find anything” They do. So then we move on to the more invasive mammogram (really there’s one thats worse) So I stand sideways with my arms in the air while she says “This is a more accurate test and at your age nothing will show up” It does. So we move onto the most invasive mammogram they have, you put your boob into a cut out of a circle, put your arms in the air and then in presses and starts to turn and twist (ok seriously now your just making this shit up, there’s no way this is a test. and then I think to myself if a man had to do this there would be no way it would still be done like this but I must admit it was giving me some satisfaction to think about some guy with his testicles in this torture device) I am brought back to reality by her saying “With this test at your age I’m sure we’ll find nothing” They did.
I am taken back to get a sonogram, where I meet, drum roll please……… the woman with no personality. She asks me what the scar on my breast was from and I say I had a fibroid removed and she tells me “No you didn’t breasts can’t have fibroids” Um well that’s what it says on my chart. “Well they are wrong.” Ok. We sit in silence only for it to be broken by the words “At your age there’s probably nothing to worry about and the doctor won’t even see you today” She did. The tech goes to get the doctor while I look at the machine that she just operated and I swear to good t looks like something Leap Frog sells to children. No wonder this woman has no personality she got her degree from Fisher Price. There are three big buttons on the machine one with a disk on it, one with a piece of paper and the hugest button has a picture of a snowflake. So we have Save, Print and Freeze and that’s it, oh wait there is the cord that plugs into the wall.
I meet with the doctor who tells me there is a lump and with my history it could be a bunch of things or just a fibroid (at the word fibroid I glare at the tech who is oblivious) but I was going to have to meet with a surgical oncologist for a second opinion and surgery options. She gives me a referral and says the following “Now make sure you get her and no one else at her office” Why? “Because she’s the office nipple expert” (that is what one of my creepy co-workers calls himself,too)
Off to the nipple expert, to be continued…………………………