It's That Time of Year

My mammogram was scheduled today and I was so excited about it, I drove to Deaconess downtown, where they haven’t done mammograms for 18 mo (says the nice elderly gentleman trying not to read my “no pants are the best pants” shirt). 

Speeding along, I get to the Newburgh hospital and look further down on the google result for Evansville breast center - 520 Mary St Evansville. 

Now some words came out of my mouth that I’m not going to type here, but before I tore off to downtown Evansville, I checked the actual appointment in MyChart and I *am* supposed to be in Newburgh. Whew. 

I find a place to park but the car won’t let me leave. Usually this means you are walking away with your keys still in the car. But no. The keys are in my purse, outside the car. Open the door. Close the door. BEEEEP. Oh. I forgot to turn the car off. Stupid fancy push button. 

Anyway I make it in and immediately hear a newborn. Like a right *now* being born baby and the chimes sound and now I’m in the breast center reception area ugly crying. 

Happy Thursday, y’all, and be sure to get yer bewbies smashed on a regular basis. It is an adventure.

Edit to add: post-smashing I can say that it hurts like a 7 on the pain scale, especially when they do it for a second time at a 45° angle. 3 hours later I still have red marks. Seems Susan G Komen could figure out something that didn’t hurt so much along with all that “awareness “ they’re spreading.