Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass- it is about learning to dance in the rain.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

The offending machine. It's a cross between a punch press and a vice grip, cloaked in innocent-looking clear plastic with enough pressure to set off a Seismic event of cataclysmic proportions.


It's still a man's world
I got rippin' mad Friday leaving our local hospital. It was not the hospital--it's a beautiful brand new facility. Personnel were friendly, helpful and knowledgeable. No complaint.

But as I'm standing in a little room in the Women's Health section with tears running down my face because a certain body appendage is being squeezed beyond belief, I have the thought: "If men had to have an appendage smashed to the screaming point, I'll bet somebody would find a better way to do this." In fact, my thoughts continued, there is a better way. An MRI is said to give a much more effective view of the mammary tissue. But, "Oh no" I say to myself in a squeaky little voice, which is all I can manage at the time due to the pressure I'm enduring standing stripped to the waist while an Amazon-sized female is applying enough pressure to cause Mt. Helen to erupt again! "Oh, no. An MRI is TOO expensive." Yeah. Too expensive. A woman's comfort isn't worth that much money. BUT...I yell back (still squeaking) if it were a MAN, I bet the insurance would FIND the money!!! (Still yelling to myself) And it isn't a matter of comfort, this is pain and suffering!!

In fact, when I first went into the torture chamber, the ever so friendly Amazon-like attendant said, "We have new digital equipment." My first thought was -- oh wow!! Somebody thought of a less painful way to get these pictures. "But it doesn't require less pressure. It just gives a better image."

"Great" I answer in my head. "Better pictures," in my best Betty Boop voice.

She was right about no less pressure. But then I was complaining to my family at lunch today and my DIL asked if I'd ever had an MRI for a mammogram. No. But I've other MRI's...liver, for instance. "You have to lie on your stomach in a superman pose for, like, forty minutes," she informed me. "I'd take the other kind any day." There went the MRI idea.

So, I left the hospital aching from head to toe. What is it about sympathetic pain anyway? I'll never again question the scripture:
"If one part suffers, every part suffers with it" I Corinthians 12:26.

And I still say, if it were men who had to endure that much pain on a yearly basis, somebody would have found a less painful exam!!


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