Good News! (No, not job-related)

I am so very, very relieved to say that the follow-up to the mammogram cleared up whatever questions they had about the first one. That's it, thank you, see you next year!

However, my gratitude will have more enthusiasm when my left chest stops hurting. Oh my god, that was one of the most painful experiences of my life. If you've ever had a mammogram, you know it's highly uncomfortable to have your breast pressed between two plates, while you stand awkwardly almost on tiptoe and are told to relax. I knew this; it wasn't my first time at the rodeo, as they say, and after all I was just there last Saturday. Ow, I know, right?

This time, though. This time, in addition to several more shots like that (some preceded by a phrase I never heard before, never want to hear again, and did not find the slightest bit helpful in any way*), she took several shots with a smaller top plate, which pushes down in a much more concentrated way, and I was actually in tears by the end, standing trying not to cry, or even breathe hard. If I could have laughed, I would have on that last shot, when she told me to hold my breath, and I was already holding it in the effort not to start sobbing.
*"I'm going to twist your breast now."

Ow, in other words. Holy hell, ow. And two hours later, while the red marks on my skin had worn off and things looked normal, they felt more like ... well, I felt like this, only in the armpit instead of knee, if you can stand a graphic photo (it's from a recent hockey blog, and you shouldn't look if you have a low pain threshold).

Also, how is it that I bump my breast on everything? My arm brushes it, I graze it on doors, I lean forward on the table at the computer... I'm trying not to do much of anything that requires effort or strength on the left side, including breathing, though my left lung does not seem to have received that memo.

Ow.

My response, once I got past the initial sniffles, and the wanting to curl up in a protective ball and not move for a while, was to proceed with my planned stop at Target. I hit a Starbucks on the way, and at Target I bought what I'd planned and some junk as well. Some people drink through pain, but my self-medication takes the form of Jelly Bellys and Ben & Jerry's. Whatever works for you, right?

Ow, ow, ow. I wonder how many times I will wake in the night because I turned onto my left side?

Fortunately, as long as I don't lean left, I can still knit. So away I go.