22 March 2007

34 A (36 A on a good day)

the local hospital is most likely closing and I now know why. it is run by a bunch of boobs. my mammogram was excruciating. I experienced a lot of pain even after popping a percocet. b forbid me to take one because I was driving (4 miles, big deal.) hey, I didn't take two or three like I really wanted.

the dope running the x-ray machine needed some serious guidance or a new profession. she shoved me into position and squeezed the crap out of me. some weird alarm kept going off and she would simply walk away. "HELLO! this kinda hurts!" she took one shot, released the machine and said "oh, that didn't quite work. let's do it again." it took three attempts to get just one x-ray. "is it that time of the month?" she asked, questioning my visible discomfort and teary eyes. "no, I believe it's your inability to do your job well." she kept blaming the machine. AGAIN with the finger pointing.

the room was freezing cold. they had 2 air conditioners running on high. that was actually good because it drowned out the abusive woman behind the front desk. I know I am not an easy case. there is a reason why the old german woman at saks was insisting I wear a gigantic padded push-up bra with my wedding dress. "I am a 34 A mam...miss...whatever, and I don't want to look like a different person in my photos. I want my guests to notice my expensive haircut, professional "non made-up" make-up, and dazzling smile." it was shocking enough that I was finally getting married. I didn't need to shock my friends and family with a lycra and foam breast augmentation.

after the final x-ray I felt queezy. by that time I was thankful for the ACs because I was sweating like crazy. I looked like I had a sunburn. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

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