mammogram

I had my mammogram this morning. Reeny, my four year old, tagged along. If you've never had a mammogram, I'll fill you in as best I can. The machine's plates that compress the boob from a 3D object to a single plane are made of a heavy clear plastic or plexi-glass. You usually only hear about the horizontal flattening, but there is also a vertical flattening worth mentioning. The machine's plates swivel, offering a variety of uncomfortable positions. The x-ray technician has you place the boob between the clear thick plates and the machine electronically squeezes the plates together. Then the tech grabs your boob...what's left of it... and squishes it in as far as it can possibly go while she manually cranks the plates even tighter. Picture me, face squeezed sideways against this machine and virtually hugging it. It's a bit of an odd thing, having my boobs manhandled by a female tech (nice, as she was). But, I suppose they don't have men doing the job for obvious reasons. Although I don't know how a man could do this work and remain intrigued by boob shirts. Anyway, Reeny had a perfect view as the machine made a nice vertical pancake of my boob. She stood by the tech as she operated the machine and watched me as the 'photos' were being taken. I heard her say to the tech, "My mom's boobs are flat!". I was grimacing, I couldn't laugh, but I did manage to look down. Yes, Reeny they were flat. They still are.