Squeeze and Pee

I'm still reeling from the loss of Heather Mills on "Dancing with the Stars." How can anyone justify kicking her off before Billy Ray Cyrus? Oh sure, he's cute and famous and he's got a great accent and he is well-known to all those pre-teens who are voting for him--but, come on! Heather only has one leg and dances circles around him--on her one leg. There is only way I could distract myself from this pain.....

....From the cartoon--can you tell where I went today to distract myself? Yeow!

There is just something wrong with having your breast SMASHED between two pieces of plexi-glass. I find it more embarrassing than painful, but I'm not sporting double D honkers, so I'm figuring it's less painful for me than those poor souls with the big ta-tas.

Before I go on any further about the mammogram, I want to share a few words about urine. (I didn't call this "Squeeze and Pee" for nothing.) I was working with a client who had to save 24 hours of urine. That's pretty disgusting and it is a LOT of pee but it is part of his labwork and part of my job, so pee collecting it was. I set him up with his own pee-holding-cooler, filled it with ice and empty jugs, placed the cooler in his room (he is a lazy guy and I didn't trust he'd use the jug unless it was really convenient) and told him 376 times what he had to do and how to do it. He indicated understanding that each and every time he HAD to pee in the jug and then keep it on ice. I explained that I would then take his 24 hours of urine to the lab the next day.

If you know me, you KNOW this story is going somewhere.....

...well, it was the TWENTY-THIRD hour of the 24 hour pee collection. All was well in the pee department. I was happy, he was happy, the nurse was happy. We could see the end, the success! We were pretty skeptical that he'd be able to do this--after all, getting a manic person to pee into a jug without trouble is a difficult task.....

....so the staff goes upstairs to his room to get him ready to go to the lab and to deliver his jugs of pee when.....he literally (and I am so not making this up or exaggerating one bit), he SPILLS HIS JUGS OF URINE all over himself, the cooler, the floor, the hall...and the staff. (Not me. I move FAST.) That is A LOT of pee. Trust me. (That's why the pay me the big bucks. I KNOW to move fast when I see pee running my way.)

Twenty three hours.....all for naught. We get to try again tomorrow......(Don't drink out of any coolers at my place of employment. Really. God knows what's been in them.)


Back to the mammogram. There is nothing I can say about it that every women on the planet hasn't already said or thought. Who the hell wants that job, anyway? No one likes you, you have to flop breasts all day and you are stuck in a dark room. (Sure, all the perverted men of the world want that job but not me. It's not all fun and games flopping boobs professionally.) Being a "mammographer" has to be worse than getting pee spilled on you, as that only happens every so often. "Hi, I'm Suzi and I'm going to squeeze the shit out of your mammory gland using this vice." Part of the fun is that they never get all the "Shots" they want the first time and so they have to take MORE x-rays. It's fast and it's actually simple but I would rather have hot pokers shoved into the whites of my eyes than do that more than once a year. (Embarrassment, not pain. I keep saying this.)


Why is it that women have to have breasts smashed in glass, legs put in stirrups and cold, metal things shoved into their parts while their legs are stuck in those stirrups....while all guys have to do is "cough" once a year while some doctor grabs his parts? Maybe a man-o-gram would be a good idea--put the man parts in the mammogram x-ray machine.

I'd let pee flow all over the floor to see that one......