Well lambwhores, today was the big day. My poor D's/DD's (depending on the day because I'm apparently a freak) were squished into a really intimidating twirly whirly machine. Let me just start by saying that I should absolutely know better than to assume anything will go according to plan for me because it never has. Why would this be any different? So, let's break it down.
I got off of work at 2 and thought I should just head over knowing I had to get over to Duluth, go through some construction, find a fucking parking spot, and go to my OB to get my actual order, which I then had to go across the street to the Breast Center. I figured I'd get there early, have time to read, and all would be good.
Not so. The problem with only going to my OB once a year is that I forget where to turn because I turn based on landmarks, not street signs, and so when all of a fucking sudden there's a Walgreens in the middle of my route I'm all like whoa. I figure it out and am pleasantly surprised they also paved the road because it was pretty bad before. I park into the first lot which is free, but now has all these special signs saying physical rehab parking ONLY or you'll get towed. I parked, had a mental argument with myself for a minute, and then decided I'll get towed because that's my luck, and so I had to leave that lot (tricky when everything is a one way street) and get into the paying ramp.
I walk over to the OB office and I see they've also re-decorated and it no longer looks straight out of the 80's, which probably explains the price hike in services. But whatever, the front desk lady is WAY nicer than the old one so I'll take it. She gets me an order and I see her hesitate when she writes "baseline" on it and she was going to ask, but decided not to, and gives me the form.
I take it and hop on my merry way across the street to the hospital where the Breast Center is and go right on it. Super nice lady at the desk there, obviously new and she's older (like maybe in her 60's), and she's getting me all squared away. It takes her 40 minutes to get my insurance card scanned in and my address entered but she's really nice and is trying to reassure me it'll only hurt for a second. I know she's lying, but she's already struggling with the scanner so I don't want to kill her buzz.
After we're done, I sit down and this nurse comes out to tell me that yeah... they don't do baselines for people under 40. (Something the fucking scheduler could have said on Monday when I called because she asked my date of birth) This meant I had to go back to the OB office to see a nurse practitioner to verify that I indeed, should be getting a mammogram. So I run down the hall, across the street, down the street, into the building and down to the lower level. Fortunately, I get in almost immediately with an NP I've never seen and she turns out to be absolutely amazing and hysterical. We get on perfectly and she thinks this whole thing is nuts, which I agree. So, she does the whole health history thing and then proceeds to feel up my boobs. I learn a few things:
1. She says I have really amazing boobs. Normally this would be awkward, but she seemed genuinely in awe of them. They are as symmetrical as boobs can be on the outside.
2. I have very dense boobs and I'm very symmetrical on the inside as well. She said it's really kind of unusual how completely even my boobs are. I crack a joke about how I have a thing about even all of the time and how I can say my OCD is literally through and through. She bursts out laughing.
3. I also have what is labeled as fiber cystic breast disease. Which... is kind of nothing to panic about it just means that the reason my boobs are sore ALL of the time is because they literally are very dense. These suckers are solid. She also said, "Well, your next stop should be less fun. Good luck." Which is kind of alarming?
She sends me back to the Breast Center.
Once I get there, the front desk lady is much more efficient getting me in. I get called in fairly quickly (it's about 3:45 at this point) and i get the whole run down about undressing from the waist up, cleaning your armpits so you have powder or deodorant on, and then waiting.
So we go in and the lady who does the actual mammogram is in her 50's and is remarkably nice. Actually, every person in the Breast Center was so unbelievably nice. I must have looked petrified and she tried really hard to calm my nerves. Then she sees my file and sees the whole "her boobs are dense and sore all of the time" note and flat out says, "Oh honey, I'm sorry to be the one to do this to you. Just take some Advil when you get home." Guess what? That's the worst possible thing to say to a person who's about to pop the boob crushing cherry.
I step up to the machine and she tells me they take three pictures per boob and I'll be hugging the machine. She flat out says normally people just feel a slight pinch but mine is probably going to hurt more because it'll take more pressure to flatten my boob, and to just do the best I can. To be honest, I came at it with the approach that I pushed two babies out my vagina, I've got this shit. I also realized I have no problem being topless. Maybe it's the setting, but I realized I have never gotten squeamish having to take my shirt and bra off at any doctor visit. Even the tech was taken aback at how I was like, whipping my boob out eager to get this done with. She probably thinks I'm some Girls Gone Wild slut. Awesome.
We start the test with my left boob and squishing it down from top to bottom. No problem. I'm wondering at this point why people tried to scare me. Fucking asshole jerks. Ten seconds, and we're on to the side picture number 1. This one pulls in some the muscle around your boob. Let me be clear- this hurts like a mother fucker. I'd rather be gang raped with a spatula than have that happen again. I made the mistake of looking down and to see your boob get THAT flat? It is horrifying. I hear the beep and start breathing again, not realizing I had even stopped. The tech eyes me up and reminds me I actually cannot pass out in here, so to keep breathing. Side boob picture number 2 is not as bad, but it's painful. Then I get to switch boobs and feel more comfortable with how to hang onto the machine. Again, the top to bottom squish? No big deal at all. Side pictures? I yelped with my right boob. I also teared up and hyperventilated. The second side boob squeeze was worse on this side and I may have swore. The poor lady looked mortified but it's not her fault my boobs are so fucking dense.
The radiologist assistant tech looked at them quick and said nothing obvious jumped out at him. PHEW! I got to get dressed and leave. I pretty much ran out of there. Even a few hours later, you'd think I'd feel at ease but I don't. In fact I feel more stressed out now than I did before and I was fairly stressed before. I should get a letter in about ten days with more detailed findings. I also have to go onto a new birth control to help alleviate boob pain but was told basically, learn to live with it or have boobs removed. I'm going to live with it, in case you were worried about my boobs.
So.. your brave Lambwhore Leader did it. I am now wearing a sports bra because my boobs fucking HURT. Jackson jumped onto me when I got home and I know I teared up. Then I banged my right boob into the door frame, which hurt like a mother. So yeah. It's done. The girls were photographed in all their glory and they are apparently just about perfect. Which, obviously. Look at their owner.