Wanna see a picture of my breasts?

Poor Dear. If being a chicken wasn't bad enough.



















A little more modesty if you please.















I was trying to take pictures of my mamogram films but the image is just a black blur. Even in person it is just a black and white blur. I don't know how they see anything.

I had to bring my last films to a new place. It's called the Breast Center. Imagine that, a whole clinic just for breasts. After I fill out all my paperwork the receptionist asks me, and I'm not kidding, she says, "Are those pictures of your breasts." Why yes they are. And now everyone in the office knows I bring pictures of my breasts wherever I go. They are all women and they don't even think this is funny.

Nobody really likes mamograms for obvious reasons but I never mind them all that much. But this time was the grandmammy of all mamo's. First off it is in OC about an hour from where I live, with morning traffic it can take 2. I get there after 1 hour and 45 minutes of driving and arrive about 15 min early. A little after 9:00 am. I get called back about 11:30. Yes, 2 1/2 hours later. I am sitting next to this wonderful lady that has been waiting 1 hour longer than me. I'll call her Christine. Christine and I are grumbling to one another the whole time in the waiting room. Not only are we there FOREVER but the waiting area's thermostat is set at meat locker. We are freezing our chi chi's off. We talk of making a fire to warm ourselves with the outdated magazines. The house movie is Second Hand Lions staring Haley Joel Osment (recently in a car accident where alcohol may have been involved) Michael Caine, Robert Duvall and Kyra Sedgwick. Great movie, check it out.

Christine and I are now waiting in another waiting area. This time we are wearing matching oversized pink blouses that have no buttons. There are six of of in the tiny waiting area. We are all grumbling about how long we've waited, Christine clearly being the winner here, and how far we've driven to get here. Christine losses bad here, she lives in the city a few minutes from the office. San Diego wins, Fallbrook comes in second and I am third. The other 2 gals do not feel like playing. Fallbrook leaves the waiting area and comes back 10-15 minutes later. We ask if she is ok.

"Oh yes," she says, "I just went to get a sandwich."

"A sandwich!" We all scream. "How is it you escape to get a sandwich and we don't. And could you not have brought a little something back with you?"

The ""Point Nurse"" comes in. We complain to her. She disappears and comes back with a basket full of goodies. Cookies, granola bars and water. We are happy and quiet. We are eating. I put ""point nurse"" in double quotes for a reason. She repeatedly tells us that she is the "point nurse", with air quotes. She goes into a lengthy explanation of what this means. We don't care. She thenthanks us for our 'support'. Christine turns to me and says "I didn't say I supported her." "I didn't hear anybody else say it either." For all our grumbling we were not rude or mean to anyone on staff. As much as we wanted to. After all, they did bring us cookies. The back waiting room movie was 'You've Got Mail!" Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you can't go wrong there.

The tell me the little specks they have been watching are growing and multiplying. The have a name for them but I can't bring myself to name objects mischievously residing in my body. I will need to return to the Breast Center to have a biopsy. I hear these are a party. I'll bring friends, and definately lunch.

On the way home I see this unusual building.

I don't know what it is. Maybe when I go back I'll check it out.