Turning 40 is a real trip, trying to wrap my mind around aging while still feeling relatively young. And then, one day, an automated reminder popped into my inbox that it was time to schedule my first mammogram. Oof. It’s not like I look forward to my yearly breast exams, but I’m a rule follower by nature, so I eagerly logged into MyChart and scheduled an appointment at the imaging center closest to me.
The process of scheduling was so simple, the location was so convenient (no navigating a huge hospital campus), and there were plenty of days/times to choose from. Really, I couldn’t complain. But realistically, I was anxious about the actual screening.
The morning of my appointment came. I had been thoroughly forewarned to avoid using deodorant, lotions, or creams around my breasts and armpits (it can interfere with the equipment and distort the image), but it was still weird to get out of the shower that morning and not swipe my trusty Dove deodorant under my arms. I couldn’t help repeatedly sniffing and checking for B.O.
At promptly 15 minutes prior to my appointment, I pulled up to the imaging center which was located in a strip mall, parked, and walked into a tiny suite whose sole purpose was mammogram screenings. I was greeted by a receptionist who took my insurance and other relevant info, and within five minutes, I was led into a back room for my mammogram.
The instructions were clear and direct: disrobe from the waist up, dress in the gown awaiting me on the bench (open to the front like a robe), and use the disinfecting wipes if I had forgotten and worn deodorant that morning (I smugly informed her that I had done no such thing). Thankfully, the gown was actual cotton fabric (it’s the small things!). So far, so good. Easy peasy.
Then, the real fun began. The tech introduced herself and led me to the mammogram machine. What came next was about 10 minutes of the lovely tech giving me detailed instructions of how to contort into various positions (and inevitably having to manually reposition me when I misunderstood her instructions) while a machine squashed my breasts into unimaginably thin pancakes (seriously, I didn’t think my barely-A chest could get any flatter!). Oh, and you have to hold your breath while the machine takes the image. Otherwise, it could blur the results. No pressure! (Had to get at least one bad mammogram joke in here …).
Although my tech was lovely, and none of the squishing actually hurt, I sweated the entire time. Like, I almost sweat through the cotton gown. Like, I’ve never sweat that much before while merely standing still. Maybe that’s common and happens to everyone, maybe the tech was just nice enough to pretend not to notice.
Then, it was over! As I was getting dressed, the tech called me over to the monitor, because she wanted to show me something (my mind started racing – they aren’t supposed to give you any results during the screening, this can’t be good!). She asked if I “worked out”, and when I told her yes, she said “I knew it!” She then proceeded to give me the most unexpected compliment of my small-chested life: my pectoral line was IDEAL for mammograms. Turns out that if your pectoral muscle is strong, it gives a good baseline for the rest of the image. Who knew?
The entire process took 20 minutes door-to-door, and they even gave me a deodorant wipe to use in case I needed it. I drove to work and didn’t think any more about it until I checked my email during my lunch break and noticed a notification from MyChart that my results had already been uploaded (how awesome is technology sometimes?!).
To my relief, the results were “normal”. Whew! Although the report did note that I have heterogeneously dense breast tissue, my ob/gyn had already reviewed the results and sent a note explaining that it was common for a lot of women and that due to not having any other risk factors for breast cancer, he didn’t recommend any further screening (other than a yearly screening, of course!).
So, other than sweating buckets, the process was easy and not as bad as I expected. If you’re 40+ and haven’t had a baseline mammogram yet, DO IT! It just might save your life, or at the very least, give you a funny story to share.
