Friday, December 16, 2005

Crisply clear

Large exhalations of relief. All mammogram images were fine. As I watched the ultrasound, it struck me as resembling an extra-terrestrial landscape, some planet with a very foggy, misty atmosphere. What looked like great ribbed rocks were in fact, my ribs. In black and white, it looked chilly, quite the opposite of my actual breasts.
Our beloved son indulged me in an early afternoon climbing session at the gym, his not so favorite place to climb, but we didn't have time to go out to a crag because of my appointment with the breast-masher. We did easy warm ups, each to his own, as well as running out a route on the roof. Good tension release.
Ah, onward with Eva Trout...


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Glad the boob-smashing went well. Is it my imagination, or does it hurt worse every year?

2:48 PM  
Blogger isabelita said...

No, I think your impression is accurate. Probably it's the anticipation which heightens this experience, and not in a pleasant way...

4:10 PM  
Blogger Neil Shakespeare said...

Good to hear. Happy all's well.

9:58 AM  

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