It’s that time of the year when I get a lot of messages through Facebook asking all of our female friends to post a symbol or word [the theme seems to change every year, and I wont give this year’s away] on our Facebook wall to remember it is the week of breast cancer prevention. Sorry ladies, I haven’t done that yet, but…
…today I have been for my regular mammogram and ultrasound. I was astonished when I realised that I have been doing this for a long time. Since 1996. This being said, I am pretty relaxed about it.
So today, I’m having my boob fed into the machine, the technician asks me to face the corner, relax my shoulder, hold this handle, look here, bend your knee, now hold still…and then I started to piss myself laughing (no, not literally). I am standing there with my tit in the sandwich press, envisioning myself a model in a photo shoot. Technically I am. I’m getting those photos to prove I still haven’t been slapped with the genetic C stick.
We also conversed about random stuff. How in 1996 I was sporting an A cup and how difficult those little titties can be to get in the sandwich press. How men need mammograms too, and how they can be a challenge.
I have to say, lightening the mood made it easier for me and easier for her. After my outburst of laughter we got about our business and got the job done.
On a serious note. Ladies, check your titties. Men, check your titties. Partners of Ladies and Men, check each other’s titties. If in doubt about any weird bits in titties, get another person to check it them out, preferably a professional, but feel free to ask others to feel your titties and give an opinion.