Well, it was my yearly Spa visit today. And by spa, I don’t mean one of those faboo places where cabana boys rub your feet and you sip drinks by the pool while sweet young men cater to your every whim. I’m talking mammogram/pap smear and if I phrase it that way it not only makes the nurses laugh it also takes a bit of the edge off.
As some of you know, I’ve had my bouts with cervical cancer over the past decade or so – and thus my yearly mantra to all and sundry to not put off this vital bit of female upkeep. Yes, it’s not fun and annoying and a bit embarassing to those of us with a bit of dignity left but trust me; it found and diagnosed the little bugger cancer cells before they could get any bigger and more dangerous.
The mammogram, well… it *is* National Breast Cancer Month and it’s been bleated across the airwaves how useful a mammogram is for detecting breast cancer in the early stages. Again, it’s a bit annoying and for those of us NOT endowed with much in that area it’s a bit discouraging but it’s a vital part of staying alive in this day and age where we have the technology to find tumors and deal with it ASAP. And there’s just something so *wrong* about staring at a machine called the Mammomat. Seriously. It must have been a man who named it; no reasonable woman would have tossed that name onto such a device.
So… just a note to those out there who qualify – yes, I know it’s not the most fun way to spend an hour or two but take it from one who knows – it may well save your life. Or at least give you new appreciation for what you’ve got.
Having said that, I’m sitting at a Panera while the Wookie is out on a few errands; after which he will drag me back to bed and cuddle my aching body into a sweet nap that’ll beat anything Tony Stark could deliver. Sorry, fangirls… having a man who "gets" me when I start up with the nervous twitches when I even get the notice in the mail to schedule these things is darned priceless. I will, however, sell his DNA on request.
Over and out!
(where’s that drink?)