Preparation for Mammogram

Because some of the women in my family are approaching the age--now advised as 50, not 40--when they will, or should, have their first mammogram. I present the following helps.

Many women are afraid of their first mammogram, but there is no need to worry.  By taking a few minutes each day for the week preceding the exam and doing the following practice exercises, you will be totally prepared.  And best of all, you can do these simple practice exercises right in the privacy of your own home.

Exercise #1

Freeze two metal bookends overnight.

Strip to the waist.

Invite a stranger into the room.

Press the bookends against one of your breasts.

Smash the bookends together as hard as you can. Actually, you should have the stranger do it.

Repeat on other breast.

Set up an appointment with the stranger to meet next year and do it again.
Better yet, get a different stranger. Shouldn't be hard.

Exercise #2

Open your refrigerator door and insert one breast between the door and the main box.

Have one of your strongest friends slam the door shut as hard as possible and lean on the door for good measure.

Hold that position for five seconds.

Turn and do the other breast.

Repeat again in case the first time wasn’t effective.

Exercise #3 (Should be done in winter)

Visit your garage at 3:00 a.m. when the temperature of the concrete floor is just perfect.

Take off all your clothes and lie comfortably on the floor with one breast wedged under the rear tire of your car.

Ask a friend to slowly back the car up until the breast is sufficiently flattened and chilled.

Turn over and repeat for the other breast.

Congratulations! You are now prepared for your mammogram.

Seriously, as we say these days, the latest information I can find suggests that women at high risk for breast cancer should probably get a mammogram starting at age 40 and go every year for about 15 years. I hope that is no one I know.

Today

I went to Winco. It's on Front Street. Front is a four-lane one-way street, with the far left lane being the left turn lane, so you could turn left onto Broadway. But not today. Today some--and I say this knowing full well that people think I'm old--some old guy was driving in that lane towards me, towards all of the rest of us. Which means he was going the wrong way. Most of us were in the other three lanes. Thank goodness.

I motioned and yelled. Didn't help. He just kept right on going.

There were driveways he could turn into. I didn't see him do that, and I don't know if he ever did. I don't know what happened because soon everything was visible only in my rear view mirror. Then it was over.

*     *     *

Two other old guys captured my attention a little later. Both were on the street corners holding signs, asking for help/money.

The first looked like he needed help all right. But I could not read his sign. Two reasons, 1. It was two paragraphs written in not very dark ink, explaining his need, but I could not read it. (I said that.) Too faint and too long; 2. I couldn't stop.

He looked awful.

The second guy was sitting at the place where I had to drive out of the Winco parking lot. He was trying to light a cigarette. I had to stop there to check for traffic before entering the traffic. I didn't read his sign when he finally stood and held it up. I didn't give him anything. Didn't ask him how he was buying cigarettes. Didn't tell him he should not smoke.

*     *     *

My visiting teachers came today. They haven't visited in a few months. One has been ill for a while. I watched as they got out of the car and saw one of them open the trunk and get something.

Yeah, I figured they would bring something to me. I said to myself out loud, "Oh please, do not bring me something sweet to eat."

Rena, the wonderful little woman from Germany, brought homemade huckleberry coffee cake. It's sweet all right, but it's now evening and I have eaten only 1/3 of it. Yes, it's also good.

Bobbi, the one who has been ill and is highly sensitive to scent and becomes ill in its presence, brought me some cheese. Goat gouda, to be precise, because she now has goats and knows that I had goats. I used to make cheese with our goats' milk. But it wasn't gouda; I don't remember if it was even good. But the ice cream was.

I will now go out and have another bite of coffee cake and cheese.

Change Is Good

Alyce, you know, Alyce my daughter, has changed my life. She and Saxby. Saxby her son. Because of them I now buy chunky--the label says crunchy--peanut butter. It's what they eat.

All my life I have preferred plain--the label says creamy--peanut butter, with its plainness. But now I prefer chunky. It's not plain but it's good.

Shows to go you, people can change.

I have liked peanut butter all my life. As a very young child I made my own peanut butter sandwiches, peanut butter and mustard or, and this was the exception, peanut butter and Miracle Whip. I said I was a child. Where was my mother at these times? Obviously, we had no jam or, and more likely, I didn't like jam. Too sweet. I also don't like Miracle Whip now. I did, but I don't.

Peanut butter and honey was also rare. Not any more. And if anyone had told me a few years ago that I would have a peanut butter and honey sandwich every day, I would have said, "No way." (I was tempted there to say, I would have said, "You're nuts." Too obvious.)

But the truth is I do have such a sandwich every day. Happily. And now I have it with chunks of peanut in the peanut butter. It seems only right.

And always these sandwiches are with my homemade whole wheat bread. I can't help it if that sounds righteous. It's just the truth.

Maybe this is not important enough to write about. Tough.

A Few Matters of Importance. To Me.

Matt and his dad Jeff have gone now. They are this year's mowers. While they were out there mowing, I made three mistakes: 1. I went out to talk to Matt. 2. I went out again to talk to Matt and water my flowers and wash my front door/window. 3. I went out when Jeff rang my doorbell and wanted to show me stuff.

Going out is bad for me this season. I'm not happy about it. I'm supposed to be cured of allergies.

The mowers: This is their first time here. Matt is handsome and tall. Jeff tries not to say things, like, my lawn was just too long. Instead, when I said it looks good, now that it's mowed, he said something like it could have been baled. Cute. So. Grass grows, and I think letting it grow an extra week helped it. And it wasn't all that long.

I don't like to pay them the $30 a week, but I will. I certainly can't do it myself.

*     *     *

Our concert last Friday night was good, but my feet still hurt. I bet I'm not the only one. I have volunteered to take on the job of scheduling, calling about, sending signups, and providing driving directions for our Christmas season sing-outs.

I don't know why. I just thought I should.

*     *     *

Tomorrow night Andrew and I will go to Aaron's senior award concert. You know, Andrew, my son, Aaron, his son. Senior concert should tell you that Aaron is graduating. So is his cousin Davis down there in Austin, Texas.

Aaron plays trombone. He is first chair of the trombone section in his Borah High School band. He is in the marching band, too, and he plays in the jazz band. And Lola has heard him in the jazz band and says he is good. You know, Lola, my daughter, and you can trust her.

Aaron tried out for Boise State's prestigious Blue Thunder Marching Band, and he got in. HE GOT IN! And that's a big deal. He's happy, and we're proud of him.

Under the Darkening Moon

This was a while ago.

We went out to Eisenman Road at 5:45 a.m. to watch the lunar eclipse. That's where Janice said we would see it best. We did see it, and we did freeze our little selves, too. But there is much more life and many more lights out there than either of us knew about. Bright lights. Trucking places, Shopko's distribution center, Brasher's Auto Auction, WES--whatever that is--not to mention the Outlet Mall.

We went down the road a couple of times, then out Gowen. Lots of lights out there, too. Back to Eisenman, where we went a long way, found a spot, backed up a short sloping driveway and parked. "Great!" said Janice, as she got out all of her scopes and cameras and settled in.

I thought it was private property; I had walked up the driveway, seen the address by the door and the mailbox by the door. When the dogs began barking, I told Janice I was pretty sure we were on private property. She said, "No. It's the storage office."

"Well," said I, quoting, "then, Who let the dogs out?"

"Don't worry," she said. "They're fenced in." Apparently Janice doesn't know the song.

I got back in the car. I don't like intruding upon private property. I was freezing anyway.

Janice is hard of hearing and did not put her hearing aids in that morning, so she did not hear the woman at first. And, because she was bending over with her face in her scope, she didn't see her either. I both saw and heard. That woman was not happy and not nice, especially when she had to repeat everything she said. No hearing aids, remember.

I am a grown-up, but I will say the woman was scary. She scared me. She made clear we were on private property and she needed us to leave. And there were those dogs still barking. When Janice finally knew what was going on, she apologized, but her apology fell on, as they say, deaf ears. Sorry, Janice.

"I need you to pack up all your equipment and get the . . . out of here. Now," said the woman in those familiar no uncertain terms.  And that was the nice part.

We left.

Next time, whenever that might be, I hope Janice will put the hearing aids in. I'm not even sure she heard the worst of it, the sharp edge on that woman's voice. I heard it.

About the eclipsed moon, which was our reason for going out there, remember. It isn't just a disc. You can see its roundness better than at any other time. It looked like a big black ball and like it might drop out of the sky at any second. Fascinated me. I took many pictures. They're pretty good, but they can't capture the look of the darkened moon. They can only remind me. 

And then there's remembering that woman. Oh well. I am glad I went.  I loved the moon. And I always like an adventure, especially if I'm safe inside a car.