I had a routine mammogram yesterday after rescheduling it and avoiding it for several months. Even though I’m just turning 40 this summer I’ve had to go in since 2007 when I found a pea-size lump in my right breast. I’ll spare you all the details because I’ve written about it quite a bit, but ultimately I had two walnut-size masses removed that were, thankfully, just  fibrocystic tissue.

The technician who had the honor of booby smashin’ my girls was friendly and put me completely at ease. The first mammogram I had in 2007 was already a nerve-wracking experience and to add to my uneasiness, the technician had zero personality. I’m a talker by nature and I’m a nervous talker and really is there anything more awkward than another woman putting your boob in a giant vise and then photographing it?

The technician made the comment that I had cone-shaped boobs. “I bet that’s the best kind, right?” I joked with her.

“Well, I’ve seen everything under the sun. Really. You don’t want to know,” she quipped. “You know when Madonna wore that cone-shaped bra on stage? Yours are shaped like that. Larger on top and smaller on the bottom.”

I honestly think my boobs are NOTHING like that, although I am pretty happy they have held up fairly well after breastfeeding two babies. The celebrity comparison could have been unflattering.

Now if I can just get my arms to look like Madonna’s.

p.s. The technician sent me on my merry way yesterday with my plastic bag containing my shirt and not cone-shaped in the least bra and said my doctor’s office would call me if they saw anything of concern. I’m fairly confident that since I have had my girls thoroughly analyzed over the past two years that I should have routine mammograms from now on. Yea!