Boobs

Self-image

For women, boobs are kind of a big deal.  We all have some insecurity surrounding our breasts.  They are never perfect.  We think they are too big or too small or shaped funny or lopsided or otherwise unacceptably flawed.  No woman’s boobs are perfect.  But, thankfully, society and modern medicine have offered a multitude of surgeries and cosmetic procedures to help remedy our own perception of our horrifying breasts.  For the right price, we can buy the boobs we want.  Say what you will, but breast enhancement helps women feel better about themselves.  It helps us find peace with how we envision ourselves and it gives us the confidence to influence how others see us and feel about us.  Boobs are really important. 

I have never really been that caught up with my boobs.  When I was younger, I was pretty self-conscious of them.  I knew they were too small.  I wondered if they’d ever catch up with the rest of me.  I even made an avid attempt a buying bigger bras in the hopes that my boobs would feel obligated to fill them.  But once I realized that they were what they were, I gave up.  I have pretty much ignored them since then.  That’s what I do when my demands go unrecognized…I ignore. 

Well, apparently, being ignored pissed off my boobs. 

Regret

As the story goes, my boobs are retaliating against me.  The, now, notorious lump in my right breast is pretty vindictive.  Most know the details by now, and if you don’t know, I think the lump itself tells the entire story.  So, for the last month, I have been berating myself for ignoring the ladies for so long.  I’ve also had a few choice words about my decision to forego health insurance.  But let’s be honest, health insurance has very little value these days.  If you are healthy, it really doesn’t pay for itself.  There are laws about car insurance and home owners insurance and disability insurance and what not, but CURRENTLY, there are no laws about health insurance.  Probably because it’s so unreasonable.  The best deal on health insurance I have found equates to about 1/5 of my total income.  And that’s just the premium.  You don’t even want to know about deductibles.  For the average, reasonably healthy consumer, you will never reach your annual deductible.  Ever.  So, I wasn’t convinced that health insurance is a good option for most people.  Yeah, there’s always the unexpected accident or illness.  Even then though, you can usually get away paying less than what your deducible and co-pay would be.  It’s a gamble though.  And I know a lot of this insurance talk has been had before.  There’s been a lot of cost-benefit analysis about it.   It’s socially irresponsible and I should have just sucked up the cost and taken care of it.  And yes, I’m a dick for not having health insurance.  I’m probably contributing to the demise of this society as we have all become accustomed to.  I should probably go to the gallows. 

Insight

As much as I have been emotionally destroying myself for having health insurance, I never knew that the health care community also views me as social deviant.  Until today.   

On Tuesday, after having my ass handed to me by several of the women nearest and dearest to my heart about how I was being delinquent to myself and everyone I love, I finally mustered the courage to call the radiology department at the hospital here in town to see if they did mammograms without referrals.  Of course, they do not.  But the young lady at the other end of the phone told me who did.  So, I called that place.  I told them I was going to pay cash.  They told me that I could get a mammogram as long as there were no current problems.  Of course they asked “You’re only 33.  Why do you need a mammogram?”  Uh…I’m giving you cash money.  Does it really matter?  I didn’t say that.  But I wanted too.  I said because I have a family history and it was recommended.  She was hesitant, but eventually obliged.  I went and told Doc:  “I found a place that doesn’t require a referral but I fibbed to them about not having a current concern.”  He told me “You can tell them about the lump.  It will help with the diagnostics.  They won’t turn you away.”  Of course he said that because he’s ethical and compassionate.  And he believed he was right.  So I got to the radiology clinic today.  As I filled out the paperwork, I identified the “palpable abnormality” as the form requested. 

Mistake

I work in health care.  I know when people lie.  I can pick a lie and it’s intentions out of a fucking line up.  I’m not that person.  AND  I had it on very good advice that honesty, in this case, was the best policy.  Wow, that was a mistake. 

After I had already explained to the lady at admissions, twice, that I do not have insurance or a primary care manager, and that I would be paying cash for the procedure, she advised me that I would need an order from a doctor to get the mammogram.    Then, she told me “this is why we need patients to be honest.”  And, instead of cutting her with the steak knife in my purse, I felt so much shame that I began to weep.  The stress, the fear, the humiliation.  Everything that I don’t want to think about, everything I want to ignore, manifested at her desk in front of 20 strangers.  I tried to leave.  She said “just have a seat and let me see what we can do for you.”  Which of course turned out to be nothing without a doctor’s order.  So, as I sat there sobbing.  And not quietly.  I don’t cry like that.  When I cry, I’m a red , gasping, snotty mess.  I should have left then.  I knew what they were going to say.  And of course they said it.  “We can’t help you.” 

As she followed me out the door, she said “let me give you my card for when you get it all figured out.”

Figured out?

How are we going to figure this out?  You know that I have a legitimate concern and you told me you can’t help me.  Yeah.  I’ll figure it out.  Somehow.  The problem is that I’m not destitute.  I’m not without means.  I’m not looking for a handout, even if I qualified for one.  The problem is that health care is expensive unless you are very rich or very poor.  So when you sit just on the bottom side of “middle class,” you learn a lot about paying your dues.  Sometimes those dues come in the form of taxes.  Sometimes they come in the form of health insurance, or in my case, lack thereof.  And as you learn these lessons, you realize that there’s always a boob involved.