The One Stop Breast Shop
On the 5th of February I attended the ‘One Stop Squash Your Bangers, Shop.’ I had never had the pleasure of a mammogram before this and was not sorry I had missed out. As I sat in the waiting room, I felt uncomfortable I had the feeling I was making a fuss. A mountain out of a mole hill. They would be annoyed when they realised it was just a cyst. I would be embarrassed.
When I was called into the room, a huge white Robo-Doc was stood bang in the middle of the room taking up all the space. Nurses and patients, politely manoeuvring round the preening, gleaming oversized whisk. Even the aircon blowing freezing air onto my tits was for ‘it’s’ comfort! The nurse busily positioned my boob onto a tray, rotated the machine then clamped my boob flat. I mean FLAT! I had no idea it could spread like that? The lump within my right boob was being squashed and this, I can tell you, brought a tear to my eye! I’m a tough bird, I have endured many an injury as a serving police officer, wife to a previous, violent husband and mum to 2 kids that I breast fed! But I was unprepared. I am the least likely person to say ‘ouch’ in a game of ‘Bloody Knuckles’. So I smiled at the nurse reassuringly as she said “sorry! Not long now!” “It’s fine really!” I grinned at her, trying to ease her concerns. Finally it was over! “Ok the left breast now!” Agghhh!
I finally staggered out of the torture chamber and slid into a plastic socially distanced chair. The waiting room had filled with single ladies, all pensively waiting their turn in the fun factory. I was unsure what was to happen next, so sat reeling and in some discomfort. Then the torture chamber door opened again and the nurse stuck her head out “Mrs Waterhouse?” I turned and said somewhat nervously, “No, you’ve had me!” “Yes, could you pop back in please?” I got up and staggered back in. “The Dr said I need to just check another area, could you take your top off again please?” I doubt I would have been more reluctant if Harvey Weinstein had made the request! So it all happened again. This time I was pushed from behind like some old cart horse, fighting to go in his stable! Robo-Doc did his thing and I redressed, somewhat hastily! Again staggering out to the waiting area. Meanwhile others went into the other rooms and I heard groans and yelps aplenty. Then the door opened again, a sympathetic look in my direction was all I needed to make me get up and stroll back into the room resigned. “I’m so sorry, Dr wants one more shot of the area under your armpit.” Something in the way she gently helped me into position this time, asking what I did for a living and if I had kids, made me cautious. This is not a cyst, I thought.