I’m 43. I was due to have my first mammogram three years ago, but I didn’t do it. I know I should have especially because my mom had a cancerous lump removed from her breast three years ago. I could tell you the litany of reasons why I avoided a mammogram, but those reasons don’t matter. What matters is that I finally summoned up my courage and just did it on October 15th.
I’d heard how much it hurt, how awkward and embarassing it was, how my breasts would be squeezed until I thought they’d pop, and frankly, it just went against my long-standing policy of not letting someone play with the girls unless he bought me dinner first, although dinner does not automatically guarantee playing with the girls.
None of those rumors were true. I did get a glass of water, so I guess that could be considered a cocktail, which in some places is close enough to dinner.
The truth is that the Posy Krehbiel Breast Care Center at Northwestern Lake Forest Hospital could not be a more calming and supportive place, unless they served wine after mammograms. Seriously, how hard would that be? Can someone get on that?
The mammogram technologist, Kathy, walked me through every step of the procedure and gave me a double-sided index card listing all the reasons why people get called back and a pink pen to memorialize my first mammogram. I wanted a sticker that said, “my boobs got squeezed today,” you know, like the “I voted” stickers, but was told those don’t exist.
I learned that the vast majority of mammogram virgins get called back because the radiologist has nothing to compare the pictures to and doesn’t know if what she’s seeing is normal for you. Kathy was supportive, respectful, and we even enjoyed a couple of laughs about the procedure. Yes, your breasts are being squeezed tightly, but it only lasts for a second each time and is no big deal. She insisted I tell her if I was in intolerable pain so she could adjust things. Her goal wasn’t to kill me, after all. In the end, it took about 15 minutes and she took four pictures.
Twenty-four hours later, I received the call I was expecting. My breasts were so beautiful that the radiologist wanted more pictures, or at least that’s what I told myself. I now needed a diagnostic mammogram, which requires about 10 to 12 pictures. Again, this didn’t hurt, although it was a tad bit uncomfortable because the poses were awkward. My pics were immediately sent to the radiologist who determined that she wanted an ultrasound done, which was done in the same appointment. Again, this is routine for mammogram virgins and doesn’t hurt at all. Actually, for women with dense and fibrous breasts, ultrasounds are routinely ordered. It’s actually relaxing because I was laying down and it was dark.
At the end of the ultrasound, the Dr. Kanter, the radiologist, came in and we chatted about the entire process. She showed me a couple of spots she was concerned about and ordered two biopsies for this past Tuesday. I had lots of questions, but at no time did I feel she had more important places to be. She was entirely present and focused on me and my needs.
Like the previous procedures, the biopsies were fairly easy and done with a local anesthetic. First, I had a stereotactic core needle biopsy. This was a bit awkward because I was on my stomach. Essentially, this is done using an mammogram machine that squeezes the breast, which hangs down through a hole in the table, to help the doctor find the suspicious area. Once that was completed, I was taken over to the ultrasound room where I had an ultrasound guided biopsy. Again, this was super easy and made better thanks to lots of lidocaine. If you ever have these procedures, ask for as much lidocaine as you need. Trust me. I was awake for both procedures, talking, and joking with the nurses and radiologist.
Frankly, the biggest disappointment of the day was that it was Dr. Silcox, the radiologist performing my biopies, was the first person to sign my breast. I’d always hoped that privilege would go to Jon Bon Jovi, Rick Springfield, or Keith Urban. She took my disappointment well though.
After the biopsies, I sat with nurses Iva and Laura, to review post-biopsy care and schedule my diagnosis meeting on Thursday. Once I left the hospital, I spent a few minutes walking through the labyrinth located immediately outside the Women’s Center. This helped me feel centered and focus on all that I had to be grateful for in this process. I drove myself home and slept the rest of the day.
//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.jsAt my results appointment yesterday, the news was mixed. One area came back clean and simply requires a follow-up mammogram in six months. Easy peasy. The second area, turned out to be an area of greater concern. As Laura, one of the nurses from Tuesday, and Cathy, a nurse navigator, explained it to me, I need to have a lumpectomy. My 15-minute appointment turned into a 90-minute meeting because they spent so much time answering all of my questions, walking me through the entire process and what I can expect both pre- and post-op, and helping me find a surgeon. We had a phone consult with my primary care physician and made a surgical consultation appointment. We even discussed the “what ifs.”
I feel really good about how all of this has unfolded. I’m grateful for having wonderful insurance that ensures I won’t go bankrupt because of this. I’m grateful that technology allows doctors to find these microscopic abnormalities in the earliest stages of cancer. I’m grateful that thanks to the Affordable Care Act, my annual mammogram costs me nothing, whether I’ve met my deductible or not, and that insurance companies can’t deny me insurance. Believe it or not, I’m also grateful that I didn’t get the job I so badly wanted earlier this month. It was clearly a sign from the universe.
I’m grateful for the friends and family who have supported me throughout this process that I’ve kept very close to my chest (pun intended) until there was something to really talk about. My brother even surprised me last night when he offered to come back to town to help me if I wanted him to. He was just here, so I am going to play that offer by ear. The fact that he made it though means the world to me.
Finally, I’m grateful for the care at the Posy Krehbiel Breast Care Center at Northwestern Lake Forest Hospital. They have all the details covered . . . warmed blankets because I am always cold, fully covering cloth hospital gowns, especially warm rooms so you’re not freezing while you’re half naked, and ultrasound gel that’s warmed. And, everyone I’ve met is a woman – the mammogram technologist, the ultrasound technologist, nurses, the nurse navigator,and the radiologists are all women. They understand how nerve wracking mammograms can be, so they are perfect for helping maintain the zen. Plus, they have a labyrinth!
Admittedly, this wasn’t the post I’d planned to write when I set out on the new adventure of my first mammogram. The bottom line, however, is that my first mammogram will save my life.
It’s also my hope that if you haven’t had your first mammogram yet but you’re due for it, or if you feel something in your breast that feels abnormal, you’ll make an appointment right away. The few moments of discomfort and awkwardness could save your life.
I also thought about not sharing this story because it’s not exactly happy, uplifting and reassuring that mammograms are no big deal. I chose to share, however, because if this story reassures anyone that a mammogram isn’t miserable and the professionals are compassionate and go out of their way to make the process easy and comfortable, no matter what happens, then this post has served its purpose.
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Jessica L Gardner 
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