Step right up and get yours!

She was lifting and pulling at the same time, one foot firmly planted on the floor while the other one was braced against the monstrous device of torture. Just a little more lifting, a little more tugging and the object of her attention would be torn from it's God-intended place of residence.

Yep. It was time for my yearly mammogram. And that was my womanhood she was yanking and lifting and pulling. In all likelihood she was not born in the U.S. Her accent was strong enough that I comprehended very little of what she was saying but I did understand "Now, relax." RELAX??? I was standing in a room wearing nothing from the waist up while a total stranger was holding my breast in her hand. Once she was certain it couldn't be pulled anymore she lowered a large flat plate which commenced to flattening my boob into something resembling a potato pancake. "Hold your breath." This was a totally unnecessary command since all the wind had been knocked out of me shortly after 1500 pounds of pressure had been applied to my chest. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to and besides all that I had blacked out shortly upon seeing that plate lowering toward me.

• In·dig·ni·ty a : an act that offends against a person's dignity or self-respect : INSULT b : humiliating treatment

Of course I am extraordinarily grateful that the technology is there and that I can be reasonably assured all is well each and every year. But hopefully there is a woman somewhere, locked in a laboratory, who is devoting herself day and night to creating something a little less painful.

I'm just saying.