The NHS letter led me to believe that I was special, one of the chosen few. Still in my late-mid-forties, I wasn't aware that I was up for free mammograms, but it would appear that the age limit has been extended at either end of the spectrum and today was to be my lucky day.
Its sub-zero here and the wind chill factor makes it seem as though we've been whisked up, Dorothy-style, and plonked down somewhere on the Russian Steppes. The prospect of stripping from the waist up, therefore, did not appeal and I followed the letter's suggestion to trot along to the good ship lollipop, (mobile unit that resembles one of those 'virtual thrill-seeking rides' that parks up at any half-baked seaside town),clutching a spare cardigan to cover the shoulders whilst waiting. Actually I had more than the shoulders in mind!
Clearly invented by a man, this clamping device with a mind of its own is not designed to ensure relaxation, comfort or reassurance. On a cold day; and no chance for a cardigan, I was whisked from cubicle to screening room in an unseemly haste; my breasts were man (well, woman) handled into position and I was invited to stand this way, or that, to face that wall, then this, to relax my shoulders, my arm, lean backwards, move my hair out of the way, hold the other breast with my (deep) frozen free hand, wait a moment please, it won't be long, have the pressure increased...
It serves a purpose and a very good one, but I'm sure that a female led, and let's face it cash enhanced, NHS, would have allowed for a softer approach, both mechanical and human. Results in a fortnight!
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