Saturday, April 11, 2009
Since a few of you asked about it and since it's 3:23 and I have been awake for almost 2 hours (stupid tooth), I thought I'd tell the story about my DIY mammogram.
Of course, the experience didn't yield any actual pictures -- thank the Lord for that! But it did provide me with a story that I've gotten quite a bit of mileage out of.
It was a little over 12 years ago. I was working in the media relations department of a pharmaceutical company. Which means I spent 50% of my time writing responses to hypothetical questions, routing those responses to no less than a dozen people for approval, then filing the approved responses -- the actual paper copies -- into a drawer in case some reporter some day might ask the hypothetical question. About 40% of my time was spent arguing with attorneys who insisted on crazy stuff like including footnotes in a press release. The final bit of time was devoted to worrying about whether being quoted in the newspaper was going to get me a package from the Unabomber, who was still on the loose.
Anyhoo -- one day I was sitting in my small khaki cubicle working on something urgent, I'm sure. I was about 7 months pregnant with Annie and was belly up to the front of my desk. I needed something from the back of the desk, paper clips maybe. Now, I'm pretty short -- 5'2", which means that a.) reaching the back of my desk was a challenge for my short little arms and 2.) that a soon-to-be 10+ pound baby in a 5'2" frame meant that I had a ginormous belly.
So, back to the paper clips. I leaned forward to reach the clips, unaware that the pen drawer at the front of my desk was slightly open (you see where this is going, right?). As I leaned forward, my breasts fell into the drawer. The momentum of my body and the enormity of my belly combined to shove the drawer closed -- right on my boobal appendages! YOWZA!
As if that's not bad enough, a week or so later, I did it to myself again! So, my Officer Buckle safety tip of the day is always double check that your pen drawer is closed before reaching for something on the back of the desk.
My more recent experiences with DIY mammograms have been courtesy of Robbie, who comes in my bed almost every night. Robbie is like a heat-seeking missle. He has to be shoved right up against you, which sounds all sweet and cuddly, but which can be downright painful if you sleep on your side and have generous ta-tas that sort of flop onto the mattress.
Because what happens is that while you are sleeping, the boy smashed up against you will decide to switch positions, raising himself up slightly, then flopping down hard on your boob that just happens to be in the way, smashing it between his ribcage (or shoulder or butt) and the mattress and stretching/pulling the nipplage just enough to make you involuntary shriek. Trust me, it's not a nice way to wake up.
I'm hoping the drawer incident and the bedtime smash have prepared me well for the discomfort of a real mammogram. Guess I'll find out on Tuesday!