The other day I had my annual mammogram at a "breast center."
I always picture getting bad news at these things, so I was a little tense.
As I sat in the waiting room playing with my CrackBerry I noticed a foul odor. It smelled really gross, like rotten milk, or...dog shit. I checked my foot and indeed it smelled like dog shit, because it WAS dog shit. All over the bottom of my brand new chocolate brown Ugg tall boots. DAMN!
I had to run into the bathroom, remove my boots and spend 10 minutes rinsing them, rubbing them with with paper towels and soap, rinsing and repeating. That stuff was completely embedded in the soles of the boots, like spackle. I was gagging.
I'm sure the lady next to me in the waiting room really enjoyed smelling my 100 lb. Lab's poo while she waited to see if she has a tumor. Maybe in some small way, I helped her to worry less about her results while she concentrated on the stench wafting from the bottom of my boot.
The good news is, I was so busy scraping the canine excrement off my boot, that my cancer fears evaporated in a cloud of stink.
When I emerged from the Ladies Room with a clean fresh boot, it was my turn to go in.
The bad news is, they changed their policy at the BREAST CENTER and I won't get my results for 10 days. I miss the old days when I could wait and walk out feeling like I dodged a bullet for another year.
Now here's my public service announcement. Don't forget to do routine breast exams. Get your yearly mammogram if you're over 40. And if you have dogs, make sure you walk around your yard with a shovel EVERY DAY.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend.
I always picture getting bad news at these things, so I was a little tense.
As I sat in the waiting room playing with my CrackBerry I noticed a foul odor. It smelled really gross, like rotten milk, or...dog shit. I checked my foot and indeed it smelled like dog shit, because it WAS dog shit. All over the bottom of my brand new chocolate brown Ugg tall boots. DAMN!
I had to run into the bathroom, remove my boots and spend 10 minutes rinsing them, rubbing them with with paper towels and soap, rinsing and repeating. That stuff was completely embedded in the soles of the boots, like spackle. I was gagging.
I'm sure the lady next to me in the waiting room really enjoyed smelling my 100 lb. Lab's poo while she waited to see if she has a tumor. Maybe in some small way, I helped her to worry less about her results while she concentrated on the stench wafting from the bottom of my boot.
The good news is, I was so busy scraping the canine excrement off my boot, that my cancer fears evaporated in a cloud of stink.
When I emerged from the Ladies Room with a clean fresh boot, it was my turn to go in.
The bad news is, they changed their policy at the BREAST CENTER and I won't get my results for 10 days. I miss the old days when I could wait and walk out feeling like I dodged a bullet for another year.
Now here's my public service announcement. Don't forget to do routine breast exams. Get your yearly mammogram if you're over 40. And if you have dogs, make sure you walk around your yard with a shovel EVERY DAY.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend.