I went to hospital today. My GP had referred me 'just to be sure' or so she said. That was weeks ago, in fact the symptoms first started to bother me in early December. I'm not good at waiting, and finding myself in limbo land waiting and wondering wasn't helping at all. My appointment came through for late April and it seemed like such a long time to wait, but on Friday they rang to offer me a cancellation. So this morning found me worrying quite unnecessarily about what I should wear for my appointment. I am constantly amazed by my ability to obsess about trivia. It really didn't matter what I wore because I was obliged to swap my own clothes for a distinctly unflattering cape type gown. The embarrassment of meeting the consultant only bruised my dignity, next on the agenda was a mammogram and the bruises from that were much more tangible. I'm sure they could have found an easier way to deal with such things by now. If men had to have their most sensitive parts clamped in a vice like grip between two plates while standing in a contorted position in order to achieve a diagnosis, I think they would soon apply their minds to a better way of doing things. I wonder why we just put up with the pain, maybe for the same reason that we meekly queue up to use public toilets - we just get used to it.
When they had exhausted all possibilities in terms of indignity I was sent off to wait in the waiting room while the consultant reviewed the images. I read the ancient copy of Woman's Own from beginning to end and I was just about to embark on a detailed examination of the notice board when I was called back into the consulting room. I didn't like the sound of this and for a fleeting moment I considered making a run for it. The consultant wasn't happy with the pictures and had asked for them to be done again - such joy! They had come up with some variations on the original torture treatment, this time I had to stand on one leg with one breast cramped so tightly that it made my eyes water while the other breast was flung over my shoulder - well, it felt like that anyway! Back in the waiting room I aged visibly as waited for the consultant to review the new pictures, it really was starting to bother me. Eventually I was informed that they were happy and there was nothing to worry about and with a grateful sigh I headed home.
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