Mr. Man-O-Gram

So..

Yes..

I'm 40.. at least the doctor is convinced I am. He wouldn't give me anymore HRT without having a mammogram. Tell me that's not some fucking conspiracy. And whoooooooo would go to jail for the atrocities that would surely be committed when the estrogen ran out?!?

Me. Not him. What a fucking bastard.

So.. In order to save the whole wide world without having to wear spandex or a stupid fucking cape tied to my neck, I scheduled the fucking mammogram (and this goofy blood test he wanted done).

I did it today. Now.. this isn't my first. I had my first mammogram six months after the assault. They were checking for damage lingering from the fucker. I thought that maybe it wasn't so bad because they knew I was only 30-something and why it was necessary. I thought they were being fucking nice to me.

I thought wrong. I got no special treatment that day. No gentle, caring treatment to help mend me after the trauma. Nope ladies and gentleman.. I was just another boob in the chute.

How do I know this thing?!? Because, today, it was exactly the same thing. No big pain.. no big problem.. just a little squishy squishy. The hardest part of the fucking thing was balancing on one leg, holding my breath on one crutch while they shot my tit.

Frankly speaking, Gregoryk squishes my boobs a fuck of a lot harder than any bitch with two glass plates ever could. He's a walking fucking manual mammogram. A fucking man-o-gram.

He left a hand print on it the other night that I thought for sure was going to look like a hand turkey on the tata today. It is kind of weird, by the by, having a 60 year old woman pick up your boob and position it like she were settling a cake on a plate.

I got done pretty quickly with the breast smashing and then on to the bloodwork. I think bitches should not be allowed to draw blood when they're distracted by someone's crutches. I have never.. ever.. in all my fucking life seen blood settling like it did in my arm.. and I have to tell you, that after four kids and all the bazillion surgeries I've had.. I know what its like to get a needle in the arm.

If I wasn't so busy trying not to faint, I would have cracked her in the shin with my crutch.

I think I'm going to start calling him Mr. Mammogram.. or Man-o-gram.

Maybe I'll get another exam for my efforts.