This year’s mammogram was a mix of new and old and new.
The new: for the last few months of health appointments, I have checked in, sat down in the waiting room, and the moment my butt hits the chair a door opens and my name is called. I can only guess it’s the check-in kiosks and email check-ins. Or else people refuse to visit the hospital.
The old: I again tossed off of my entire hospital gown. I can’t tell you how much more streamlined it is.
The new again: She finished the first squish and I said, “Are you kidding me? I felt nothing.”
“Sometimes that happens,” she said.
“What days are you here? Can I ask for you by name next year?”
She did say that there are a lot of variables, but “every technician does it a little differently.”
I don’t know how much relies on the technician, but if you are slated for a mammogram at Barnes St. Peters, ask for Jenny.