Article #15: "God Has A Sense Of Humor!"

Let me begin by saying that the following story could have happened to ANY one of you ladies who are reading this. I know that I am NOT alone in this...I am NOT oblivious to the obvious...and I am NOT an idiot, (at least that is what I am telling myself).

I began my day with a dental appointment. I think all of you would agree that beginning the day at the dentist’s office is not the best way to begin a day, right? To add insult to injury (pardon the pun), I was having four cavities filled (as a side note, I would like to say that I am thirty-eight- years-old and I have NEVER, EVER had a cavity. Then, last week at my annual check up, BAM! I have FOUR cavities)!

Having four cavities filled at once (actually it's more like drilled, poked, prodded, pinched, polished) required a "numbing" medication to be administered to the left side of both my bottom and top jaw. My lips felt fat, hot, and tingly and when I tried to talk; I sounded like a stroke victim. The entire left side of my face was numb. I could not feel a thing, and when I got into my car and looked into the overhead mirror, my left cheek was sagging.

The reason I am sharing with you the details of my dental appointment is because I need you to fully understand and vividly picture what I looked like, what I sounded like, and what I felt like. And because I think (if you will agree) that I can somehow blame the numbing medication for the stupidity that I was about to display.

I left the dentist’s office and drove to my next appointment, not really with a doctor, but an appointment for my very first mammogram. What a day already! And it was only nine o’clock in the morning!

I was running a little late for my mammogram appointment, so I was feeling flustered on top of feeling foolish with the left side of my face hanging, hot and tingly. I checked in with the receptionist, who gave me a clipboard and pen, asking me to fill out a "personal information" form. I sat in the cool leather chair, placed my Vera Bradley bag beside me, and began to write.

"Ellyn Dudenhoeffer?" the mammogram technician called my name...

 

I stood, grabbed my bag and handed the clipboard over to the technician. I followed her into the back room. I was guided to a dressing "stall," and the technician set out two wet wipes to wipe any and all lotion and deodorant from under my arms. She pointed to a pink (the official color for breast cancer awareness) hospital robe and said, (pay attention here)...

"Remove everything, opening goes in the front..."

 

Did you get that? Let me repeat what she said...

"Remove everything, opening goes in the front..."

 

She left the stall, and I began to undress: shirt, camisole, bra, dress pants, and underwear. There I stood, naked as a jaybird. I grabbed the wet wipes, wiped the lotion and deodorant from under my arms, and slipped the pink hospital robe on, the opening in front. But the pink hospital robe was not a robe; it was merely a "top"....a sort of “hospital gown” that stopped at the waist.

 

This could not be right. I was completely naked and the "robe" only covered my ta-ta's and some of my stomach. So I thought what ALL of you would have thought; she probably meant to say, "Take off everything EXCEPT your underwear.” So I slipped my panties back on.

 

There I stood, underneath the fluorescent lighting, inside a 3 x 3 stall, freezing, wearing a pink "half" robe, opening in front, and panties.

 

I drew in a deep breath.

 

I exited the stall and walked into the dimly lit room where a large machine (undoubtedly invented by a man) stood, waiting to poke, prod and SQUEEEEEEZE my breasts between two four inch plates of glass. I stood in silence as I waited for the technician to join me. "Excuse me, mam?" I jumped, startled from the break in silence. I turned, and there stood a young woman in a pair of dark green scrubs. "Yes?" I responded. "Um, you can leave your pants and lower garments on!” She smiled sweetly as she walked away.

 

I looked down at my bare legs, already showcasing goosebumps from the cold air. I didn't even bother to look back up; I was completely horrified! OF COURSE I can leave my lower garments on, because this is a mammogram! A test for your ta-ta's! This appointment has NOTHING to do with my lower body! How. Could. I. Be. So. Stupid?

 

I quietly and quickly slipped back into my stall and replaced my slacks and shoes and then slipped back into the room just in time to meet the technician who smiled at me and said, "Okay, let's get started..."

I’m not certain that this story has a moral, really, except I am pretty sure that God must have an extremely healthy sense of humor. After all, laughter is the best medicine, and He has had some pretty good laughs at my expense!