My father told me a joke once about two sheiks sitting around their palace in the days of old, discussing the best way to make eunuchs to guard the harem. One of them suggested doing the deed with a sharp knife. The other claimed it was far too messy, and the best way was to use two bricks, smashing them together and disposing of the, er, problem, as it were, in one fell swoop.

Ouch! Sheik Number One says. Doesn’t that hurt?

Only if you get your thumb caught, Sheik Number Two replied…

Which was what I found myself thinking today, as I stood there being squashed into a large flat vice (albeit one with many pretty flashing lights) while enduring my bi-annual mammogram.

My mother died of breast cancer, you see, when she was only 45, so ever since my mid-thirties I have dutifully turned up every two years for this valuable screening procedure. The idea of having certain extremities flattened into a vice every couple of years so they can be x-rayed, strikes me as being a vastly better proposition than finding out I have breast cancer when it’s too late to do anything about it.

But however valuable a diagnostic tool, a mammogram is about as much fun as a being run over by a steam roller. Not to mention it’s undignified (move your heels, dear, stick your bottom out, stretch that arm, drop that shoulder, move that chin, bend that elbow, wonderful! Now relax…). And it’s not the worst thing we humans endure for the sake of modern preventative medicine.  Let’s not even talk about the indignity of a pap smear… or my doctor who fancies herself a real comedian and makes comments like hang on, Jen, I’ll just go get my gear out of the freezer..

What I want to know is, why can’t they invent something like the bone density test, if doctors need to probe the inner workings of the human body? Had one of those lately, too, which was kinda cool, because the machine looked like something salvaged off the med-deck on the old Enterprise sets and all I had to do was lie there for five minutes while it went ca-chung, ca-chung, ca-chung over me.

Why can’t they do it in real life like they do on it TV? Nothing is ever invasive on sci-fi shows unless we need to see blood for dramatic effect.

I want to be scanned from across the room. I want to be diagnosed in the ad breaks, the cure for my exotic condition discovered, synthesised and loaded into a hypospray, all with the hour. And when injected, I expect it to undo the irreparable damage to my DNA, restore me to my prime, and leave me with nothing more than a mild headache. Oh, and the hypospray should never sting, nor should this miracle cure cause any painful side effects, either.

I mean, that would be the 24th century equivalent of getting your thumbs caught, wouldn’t it?

Oh yes!!!! Surely they can come up with some better method of making sure you're cancer free than a mammogram. Although, you've now reminded me I'm over due. Damn! Time to grit my teeth for the squeeze :)

I'm all for the Star Wars "We can heal you simply by suspending you in pink liquid" method. Scientists, get to it!

Does your breast screening clinic have a poster describing everything that we are supposed to do during our lives to keep our breasts healthy, ie they are not to be excessively man-handled, treated gently etc? And then the only way they can test for lumps is to squish them flatter than a pancake?

Does one see the contradiction here? But of course, it was most likely a man who invented the machine. Pity we can't invent one like that to test for testicular cancer - wonder how fast some other method would be developed if that was the only way? *evil chuckle*

The last one I had (which was before I left Canberra so I am waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay overdue) the doctor on duty had to come in and have a feel anyway because my breast tissue is so dense the mammogram showed nothing. Then they made me have an ultrasound as well!

I'd rather do the ultrasound every time!

Drabbit! I was trying to pretend it wasn't that time again. Now I guess I better go make my appointment... *sigh*

Men get breast cancer. How ever do they get their breasts into those machines? (Mind you, I have seen men with bigger boobs than me.)

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