Last week I mentioned this is big monumental birthday I had late last year. This big day brings about certain discoveries for many, and I’m no different. Aside from the folds (remember those?!), I’ve realized that I no longer have the bounce back I used to (whether it’s recovering from a boozy night or training for a 10km), I’ll never win an Oscar and … I need a mammogram.
This probably isn’t where you thought I was going, so I’ll make my observations quick (just like my mammogram, which took all of 7 minutes) and painless (not just like my mammogram, which still took all of 7 minutes):
I kneed bread more gently;
At the clinic my breasts are not breasts or boobs or a chest they are ... fatty tissue;
I’m pretty sure if my fatty tissues were bigger it wouldn’t have been so uncomfortable and awkward and ouchy. (Ah, the irony).
There must be a better way;
I kneed bread more gently (yes, I know I said this already but honestly. HONESTLY a person is attached to those!).
The good news is, my fatty tissues, according to the thankfully upbeat lab technician, are “textbook”. For some odd reason, I found that observation quite complimentary on many levels.
Anyway - yeay! I love being medically boring.
And, still, ouch. But, really - Yeay for ouchy boring!
What’s next? I’m ready.
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