Women’s Health Week in the Boyhouse

You guys, it is Wednesday already, and in one week, February will be over. Over! February feels like it just started, I have four months left before both of my children are junior high students, one month before I have a teenager, and six days until my very last book fair, all of which are good reminders that Time Stops For No One.

It has been a busy week already, even with Monday being a holiday; lots of lovely classes to teach, things to do, children’s dental appointments to sit through. For some reason I booked dentist appointments on the same day that the orthodontist office is closed, and woe, the cleaning will have to take place with wires still in place. The receptionist who called me to confirm sternly said that it would be okay this once, but next time would I please book the cleaning NOT on a Friday. Her tone made me feel like the consequences would be much more dire than they probably are.

It’s also, apparently, Women’s Health Week for me – I had my physical yesterday, and I appear to be fit as a fiddle, as they say in old-timey books about healthy individuals. I had my Pap test and I was not accidentally inseminated, which is my new bar for such things, thank you Jane the Virgin. I did, however, have to endure the usual Where’s Waldo game my doctor plays with my cervix. My cervix is apparently like a toddler in a clothing store; only one doctor has been able to locate it with precision and minimal discomfort. I feel like my cervix is starring in its own drama; like it’s a reclusive Greta Garbo, shying away from the public.

After my physical, I was given my usual requisition forms for blood work and a mammogram, and I went downstairs from the doctor’s office to book the latter. Now, I do not know what is going on with medical imaging in Calgary, but I have to tell you, I like it. For some reason every year that I’ve had a mammogram (this would be my fourth), it’s been in a different location, because the previous location “doesn’t do mammograms anymore.” Why? Why do they keep moving all the mammogram equipment around? I went to book it and was told that they didn’t do them anymore but fortunately, I was able to get an appointment at an even more convenient location. Score! Now, the first time I had a mammogram I had to wait several weeks for an appointment, and they ran late, and I had to sit shirtless, covered only by a paper robe, in a freezing room for thirty minutes before testing, the whole thing taking over two hours to complete. Yesterday, the woman at the clinic offered me an appointment that very afternoon. I was completely unprepared for that, so I declined, instead getting an appointment for nine-thirty the following morning. What is this magic? I don’t know if it’s a new imaging firm that has the contracts, but I LIKE IT.

This morning I trundled over to the imaging clinic, deodorant-less but with a book in my bag and several articles bookmarked on my phone. I was preparing for a hefty wait, when the receptionist told me “Your check-in is at 9:30, but your actual appointment isn’t until 9:35.” Talk about precision! I had barely made it into the waiting area, and taken my book out of my bag, before my name was called. I was literally in and out in fifteen minutes.

The technicians that do the mammograms must be specially trained for sensitivity and kindness; without exception every one of them has been lovely, especially when you consider the bizarre nature of their job, squishing and squeezing the girls to get them in “just the right position.” Getting a mammogram feels a lot like being part of the weirdest photo shoot ever, with the technician telling me to “place my hand here” and “turn my chin up and to the right” and gently fixing my hair just so.

My favourite thing about the new location is the style of medical gown they use. Remember last time, how I awkwardly had the gown on backwards, proving my ability to misunderstand basic instructions? There was no room for such issues today, as the robes were kimono-style, and one would have to be REALLY confused to not figure that out. In fact, I felt a little bit fancy in my gown, all ready for my squishy-breast photo shoot.

I have one simple request: to have sharks with fricking laser beams attached to their heads.

This week has been a seemingly endless series of irritations, both of the minor kind and of the more sweeping variety, and I have been - possibly due to Female Cyclical Emotional Upheaval - unable to keep my usual Om Shanti outlook and am instead … [Continue reading]

Renaming The Boyhouse to The Sugar Shack, at least for today

There is no question that I am not gifted artistically. I am a person who couldn't, say, draw a car without having a car directly in front of her and even then it would be a strange, stickman-like car. Things that normal people might find easy are … [Continue reading]

Sweatin’ to the Oldies

I was driving home from yoga on Tuesday when I heard on the radio that Southern Alberta is under an extreme cold warning; Calgary is NOT included in this warning. I looked at the dashboard and the temperature read minus 26. What does a city have to … [Continue reading]

Glory days

The other day I had just finished showering, preparing to teach an evening class, when the dryer finished its cycle. I brought the basket upstairs, in my bathrobe, and pulled on a pair of socks that were on top. I am now ruined for non-dryer-warmed … [Continue reading]

I, for one, welcome Shakira Law and look forward to much dancing in the future.

This morning I was at the barber shop with my youngest, and I popped on to twitter for only a moment. That moment was long enough to see this: YOU GUYS. I laughed and laughed because a) I am not and never have been a Tolkien fan, but even I … [Continue reading]

Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl

This morning I heard Copacabana on the way home from yoga, and it set the tone for my whole day. I have been doing the merengue and the cha-cha all day, humming about yellow feathers in my hair and a dress cut down to there. At least I know all the … [Continue reading]