Squished

Another episode in the medical drama that seems to be my life at present. Thankfully it’s all very tame and not at all gory today.

I had an appointment this morning for my first ever mammogram. I anticipated a bit of necessary discomfort but it’s always wise to get checked out. My Mum’s breast cancer was only discovered by a routine mammogram and I’m taking no chances with my own health.

Yes there was the inevitable squishing of my boobs as they were manipulated between the plates of the x-ray machine but it wasn’t long before I was back in the small waiting area, top half covered by a gown, shopping basket at my feet with all my clothes in.

I was made a cup of tea and settled down for a few minutes to read some more of my book (Finger Lickin’ Fifteen by Janet Evanovich) while I waited for the verdict.

It wasn’t long before I was given the all clear and told I could go. Relieved I got dressed and stayed sitting for a bit savouring my cup of tea. I was never unduly worried – at least that’s my side of the story.

It’s another big tick off the “to do” list. Another hurdle that has diminished before my eyes, I can safely and very easily step over leaving it behind me for another year.

I wondered how different things would have been if Andrew had still been around.  Would he have come along to the appointment with me? Depends on his work shifts I suppose.

Would I have let my worry show knowing I had someone to turn to, to hold my hand and give me support? I was great at playing “what if..?” when Andrew was alive. He sometimes got annoyed at my imagination. I guess we brought out the worst in each other as well as the best on occasions.

Without him I am strangely stronger and more capable. 

Today I didn’t wear his ring as I did for my last appointment. To be honest it never occurred to me until I was getting undressed.

However I did have to smile at a song Chris Evan’s played on the radio this morning, “Cruel to be Kind” by Nick Lowe.

Despite Andrew’s vast record collection this was one single he didn’t have that he always wanted. I wish I’d tried harder to find him a copy. It was the first song he ever downloaded, long before we had iPods to play it on.

Perhaps a mammogram isn’t “cruel” as such but it is “kind” to get one done. Like Mary Poppins and her spoonful of sugar or the old adage “prevention is better than cure”.

“Cruel to be kind means that I love you”

Andrew, ever close, proud of his confident wife, telling me yet again, “I told you there was nothing to worry about!”