Napkins and tablecloths

I have to share a story with you. Friday I went for a mammogram. (Yes male readers, you can leave now if you want.) I had preregistered by telephone the day before but I still had to present my insurance card and sign some paperwork. I’m not sure of the point of preregistering if you only have to go through it all again when you get there, but that’s a topic for another time.

I arrived at the hospital on time and checked in. I was shown to the Women’s Center. After waiting about ten minutes I was taken into the back. I was given what I can only describe as a cape, shown to a changing room and asked to undress from the waist up and put this cape over my shoulders. I did this, but I was unable to figure out how to get the cape to stay on and not have my boobs showing. This cape was about the width of a generous cloth napkin, maybe a short table runner.

The tech came and took me into the room where the fun began. I’ll spare you the details, let’s just say I enjoyed the experience as little as I had the last time. I find it uncomfortable to have parts of me squished like a pancake. Throughout the test the tech was very kind and as gentle as is possible. She was insistent on trying to cover whichever breast wasn’t up on the machine, which was a comedy of errors. She’d position me and then try and position the cape. But when she positioned me the cape would move, leaving one of both of the girls out in the cold. Seeing what was happening, she tried to move the cape to cover the exposed side but then it would be on the side she was filming and she said it couldn’t be in the shot. After going through this about four times I told her not to worry about it and to just continue with the test, which she did.

After taking all of the shots she needed, she told me to sit in a small waiting room while they checked to make sure the films came out clearly. I was the only one in the room, and I was grateful for that because I was having a hard time keeping everything covered. Everytime I moved the slightest bit the damned cape would shift and something would get exposed. Another woman was shown in to wait and I felt a bit awkward trying to keep things altogether (literally). I had my arms down tight on the sides and I was holding the front in place with both hands, it must have looked quite odd.

Fortunately I was called back in for more films, but then unfortunately I was asked to wait again. This time someone I met briefly years ago came into the room and sat down and started chatting. Then another woman that worked with her came in and they were both chatting with me while the girls were playing peek a boo. I really wanted to chat but I felt like my boobs were another presence in the room that couldn’t be ignored. I was so glad when the tech told me the second films came out fine and I could get dressed and go.

Here’s my suggestion for mammo and imaging centers. Help the woman feel a little less awkward and provide drapes that actually cover things. Not everything in life is one size fits all. I need a damned tablecloth, not a napkin.

Filed Under: Health