Today's fun included a few extra views in the smashometer that I have never had before. Three of them involved this cup shaped device they hooked up to the machine to not only flatten things out, but totally pinch the holy hell out of them as well. I don't know about you, but when I'm in that contraption all kinds of things are whirling through my head. Ironically they are usually funny thoughts, not worries like they probably should be. Here's an example: The poor gal who actually has the job of handling women's boobs all day like she's putting a sandwich on a plate, (mind you, my breasts are small so it is like a sandwich and not this huge water balloon like a lot of my gal pals) Then she has to crawl underneath me with one hand positioning my "sandwich" and the left foot pressing on the foot pedal all while in a crouching stance and trying not to get her hair caught up in the contraption. These are the things I'm thinking: "Wow, she's limber." or "I wonder is she's ever slipped and fallen while in that position. Did the patient fall down with her?" or "Does someone perform her mammo or can she play around with the machine by herself?" Can't you just picture a couple of those gals in there goofing around squeezing things in that machine? I can.
So, that's where my mind goes in those situations. It doesn't take long for me to snap back to reality though when I return to the waiting room where several other women wait for their news with somber faces, or wait for yet another check because "things don't look good." I've seen women crying, women walking back into the waiting room just given the news and putting on their best brave face, admitting to all of us total strangers that "it" has returned once again. Gosh, if that doesn't sober you up, nothing will.
It never ceases to amaze me though how once we sit in those thin gowns in that cold waiting area, watching Family Fued together on the TV, we can talk and share with one another like we've known each other a long time. It's this instant female bond, like we're all pulling for one another, and understand one another. I've reached over and squeezed the hand or shoulder of a few women on my way out several times over the years. Sadly it's one of the only places I do that to women I don't know.