Boob Job; I Love My Dog

This week, I had to do something that I’d been dreading for a while—get a mammogram. My original appointment had been in July, then I had to change it and the earliest I could get was December. But then, in a surprising turn of good luck, we were going to be away on a cruise in December and I had to change the appointment once again. The earliest new date I could get was in July—again. It seemed like a good thing but then I started thinking—is it? What if there was something wrong with one of the “girls” and I wouldn’t even know until next summer, by which time it might be too late? But there was nothing, seemingly, that I could do, given that the clinic where my requisition was sent was notorious for never having any appointments. Then two weeks ago, I was getting an ultrasound on my shoulder at a new place in the same building as my physiotherapist and they had a big sign that said they’d just become partners in the government screening program. I enquired—they could give me an appointment almost right away. I would have rejoiced but if you’ve ever had one of these done, you’ll know it’s nothing to get excited about. And for those of you who’ve never had the pleasure—imagine taking a rubber ball and compressing it in a machine like this:

You get the idea? And guys, we all know if the test for testicular cancer involved smashing your scrotum in this torture device, some science dude would have figured out a different method YEARS ago, involving no contact, soothing music, and ice cream at the end. Not to say that men don’t go through very painful and invasive routine medical tests…cough cough. At any rate, I approached the day with a sense of doom and found myself subconsciously crossing my arms over my chest at random moments. Then the morning of the mammogram (sounds like a horror movie doesn’t it—The Morning of the Mammogram From Hell) arrived and I drove to the clinic, heart pounding. See the last time I’d had one of these done, it was two years ago, and you may remember I wrote about it then, more specifically how the technician told me, after I was securely and excruciatingly clamped, “Make sure you don’t pass out.” I mean, what the hell does THAT mean? How exactly am I to prevent myself from passing out? And then the nightmarish thought—What if I DID? Would I just dangle there from my boob until…it didn’t even bear thinking about.

So with much trepidation, I entered the clinic and was called in almost right away by the same woman who had done an X-ray for me not too long ago, which didn’t bode well. But then we started chatting:

Me: Hey, I remember you from that X-ray a while back.
Tech: Yes, I do X-rays too but mammograms are really my specialty. I’m a jack-of-all-trades, I guess.
Me: And master of all of them, right?
Tech: *laughs* Don’t worry. Did your last one hurt?
Me: A little.
Tech: Well, we’ll make sure it doesn’t this time.

And true to her word, it was easy peasy and relatively painless. I even let her do a couple of extra shots “just to be on the safe side”. So fingers crossed that the “girls” are all right, and I don’t have to do this again for two more years.

In other news, Atlas is coming up on 4 years old now, and I have to say that he’s become the BEST dog. He was a holy terror as a puppy, as a 1 year-old and a 2 year-old, but over the last year, he’s just really settled into his role as a good boi. He has such an endearing personality, and you always know what he’s thinking about, which is mostly food. In fact, that’s when he’s most human—when it’s time for a meal. A while back, I started giving him a teaspoon of soft food with his kibble at every meal—we call it his “special”—and he goes nuts for it, jumping into the air like a baby goat when he sees me get the spoon, which I like to hold aloft like a beacon as I proclaim “The special spoon!!” It’s become such a thing that the last time we went away, my parents took care of him and my mom called, concerned:

Me: Hey, what’s up?
Mom: Atlas won’t eat. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.
Me: He won’t eat?
Mom: He’s just standing in front of the refrigerator. He keeps looking at it, and then looking at me. Very pointedly.
Me (laughing): That’s because his special is in there. He wants a dollop on his kibble.

A while later, she messaged to say that he gobbled everything up just like a good boi would. I love him so much.

And I’m glad I have him because he’s a real comfort when things are sh*tty, like last week when I got an email telling me that the company who published both my short story collections was dissolving. And not only are they not publishing anything new, they’re “unpublishing” all their other books, as in they will no longer exist in the public realm, and it was like a gut punch, or worse than a mammogram in terms of pain. So if you know anyone who publishes reprints of well-reviewed spooky stories that did as well financially as one could hope, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll just be over here, hugging my chest and cuddling my dog.

53 thoughts on “Boob Job; I Love My Dog”

  2. I can’t believe the mammogram technician said that to you! I wonder if they ever had someone pass out during it? What a picture you paint! Sorry to hear about your publisher dissolving. Will they be giving you your files back so that you could self publish your books? My publisher has decided to stop publishing my first two books. I’m thinking of buying the rights back publishing them myself, maybe just as e-books.

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  3. Absolutely loved reading this, Suzanne! As I’m approaching the big 45, my doctor has started talking about mammograms, and honestly, it’s a bit daunting. I haven’t broached the subject with my mom because, well, she tends to paint a rather catastrophic picture of the experience. It’s a bit overwhelming, and your post has been a comforting read amidst all these grown-up health concerns.

    Switching gears to a brighter topic—book publishing! Amelia and I have been publishing through Barnes & Noble Press, and it’s been nothing short of fantastic. The quality they offer is so impressive that our books have even found their way onto the shelves of local libraries. It’s been such a rewarding journey, and I always appreciate the insights you share about the publishing world. Keep these wonderful posts coming!

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  4. Oh, I’ve had my share of nightmare mammograms, let me tell you I almost passed out at one because the bitch tech was new and she hurt the hell out of me. She also told me not to pass out and after the painful experience I told her she was lucky I was in so much pain knowing she didn’t know what she was doing because I couldn’t punch her in the throat! But now I go to a different place where the techs are experienced, gentle and kind so I don’t dread it so much anymore. What a bummer that you old publisher is going belly up, what the hell?! I hope you find someone different so they can keep on with your books, I just don’t understand how they can’t get another publishing house to take over themselves. Altas is such a good boy, his sweet eyes say it all 🥰.

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  5. If I understand what you’re saying about your publishing company, wow, I’m sorry. That sucks. Good luck! 

    I took a motorcycle test for my endorsement this one time and the lady administering the test said after giving me instructions for the braking test, “and don’t dump it.” Thank you, lady, I thought, if thoughts can have a tinge of sarcasm.

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    • Thanks. I own my own small press so I can always reprint them myself (in fact I’m already reprinting a couple of their other authors) but it just seems such a drastic step, to deliberately delete all their titles from existence. And whenever someone says something stupid like “Don’t dump it” to me, I usually respond with “Thanks, Tips.” 🤣🤣

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  6. After reading this amusing blog I feel compelled to describe the biopsy procedure for prostate cancer involving ten spring loaded injections into the prostate up through the rectum but if I go on it may discourage a male reader from getting one if and when he should.

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  8. You are 100% right when you point out that the entire medical community would be mobilized to find an alternative if men’s health screenings were nearly as unpleasant and uncomfortable as women’s! That said, it is important to do. CNN’s Sara Sidner was recently diagnosed with stage-3 breast cancer.

    I can’t believe Atlas is nearly four! Seems like you just brought him home. My little pooch will be turning nine in April — and that I really can’t believe! Sometimes when I’m goofing around with him — or even just sitting with him — I try to remember how much I will ache for these days at some point in the future. By acknowledging how much I’ll miss these days, it helps me live more presently in them.

    I’m so bummed for you re: Feasting upon the Bones and At the End of It All, Suzanne. Why are writers never allowed to feel like the ground beneath them is stable? But you are one of the most tenacious creative people I know, and I’m going to trust you’ll find a way to keep these books alive…

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    • I know—I can’t believe so much time has gone by. If you’d told me when he was little that he’d grow up to be such a delight, I wouldn’t have believed you! And yes, I’m going to find a way to keep those books alive 😊

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  9. What kind of tech tells you to not pass out? Of course I was sick during an MRI once and one of the techs said, “Yeah, that can happen when we push the contrast too fast” and then I didn’t feel bad about making them clean it up, or that I’d had chili for lunch. Anyway I’m glad you’ve got Atlas to be a comfort to you. And that he gets a “special” because he’s a special dog.

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  10. Suzanne, That really sucks about the publisher. Hopefully, you’ll find a replacement soon. I’m glad that Atlas has been there for you. He’s the best! Also, I’m so glad your mammogram went well and you’re able to check it off your list. Gotta take care of your girls. See, I thought that exam was once every two years as well, but at my last gyn exam, I was told every year! *sigh* Maybe they just want to torture me. 😕 And on that note, have a great week ahead! Mona

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  12. Catherine's avatar Catherine says:

    oh yes yes yes and yes. Mammography is a legal torture. You are totally right about it! But holy hell, if they said that here to a patient there would be a lawsuit. “Don’t faint.” Don’t fall. That’s just insensitive.

    About the publisher, that sucks. But I know you will arise and get the job done.
    And The boi sounds like he’s turned into the big Atlas of a dog! And a love bug too.

    onward and upward.

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  15. As long as “special” doesn’t devolve into “precious”. A gobbling Golem.

    My wife has described said medical photographic experience on more than one occasion. She would vehemently transfer her discomfort onto me by suggesting that I “get my balls crushed in a vice.”
    I declined.

    The publishing sector seems fraught with tenuous expectations. I’ve kept mine intentionally suppressed. And yet, my editor continues to whittle away at my Anonymole anthology.

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  16. I’m so sorry about your books vanishing–what is the publishing term for that?? I’m confident you’ll find a way to bring them back to life in some way, but until then, what a loss it must be. I’m glad you were able to get good care for the girls–no one ever looks forward to that annual crushfest!!

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  17. You crack me up, Suzanne, always. I’m glad the “girls” got their checkup. And happy birthday to Atlas. He should get an extra “special.”

    Okay, on to your books. Why don’t you publish them yourself on Dark Winter? Am I missing something? When I left my publisher, I had 6 books with them that they took off the market. I then republished them myself. Amazon worked with me and carried over all my reviews since the only thing that changed was the cover. If you publisher lets you keep the cover, then you don’t even have to worry about that. 

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  18. it would take a cold cold heart to not be a total sucker for gorgeous Atlas. but wait — so did you get test results yet? hoping you do your monthly self-checks, as that’s how I found, whereas mammogram didn’t… ever since, I tell them squeeze as hard as you like, better safe than sorry — good point, tho that if it were for guys, they’d have found a better (& more accurate) alternative by now

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