I've been dreading the day for some reason, when I have to go for a mammogram. Total women's territory.
The other day, I had to go in for an mri for an injury. I had no idea where my doctor sent me, my first time there in an unfamiliar place and town. I just wanted to be in time. The woman behind the window asked me to sign in, and I would be called. So, I signed in, in my male name, took a seat, and waited my turn.
In a moment, the woman stood up, called my name, and looked around the room....there were three other women there. She just looked a little irritated, and sat back down. I went up to the window, and she asked if I needed something. I said 'I'm (male name), which confused her for just a moment, then she smiled, and ushered me to the examination area. Big Letters on the wall: Women's Imaging Center. So, that's where my doctor sent me. She considers me a woman.
Geez.....all that worry, and there I was, in the place I was nervous about going to. If I had signed in under Beverly, maybe they would not have known at all.
Get the hint, Bev.....you're a woman.
Duh, Bev
Duh!
Personally, I hate mamograms. I really do. It's an assault of sorts with them flinging my breasts here and there... and squishing them between those plates! ICK.
Cindi
Quote from: Cindi Jones on May 05, 2007, 01:46:20 AM
Duh!
Personally, I hate mamograms. I really do. It's an assault of sorts with them flinging my breasts here and there... and squishing them between those plates! ICK.
Cindi
Oh, I don't know, Cindi. At my age, it seems to be the only time anyone pays any attention to my breasts. Well, sometimes Emery blanches and says, 'You can't wear that; your nipples show through.'
Our Imaging Center has new 'low squish' machines. No more refrigerator door training.
Robyn