If you give a pig a pancake. Or a panini.

Yesterday I had to go for my annual mammogram.  It's the one time of year having small breasts actually comes in handy.

The biggest annoyance for me wasn't the squishing and mashing and pressing that occured as the technician was going about her business but something that occurred prior.

I was escorted into a small room, closet might be a better word, by a nurse and was told to take everything off from the waist up, put on the "gown", tie it in front, and wait for someone to get me.

The taking everything off from the waist up and the putting on the "gown" were simple.  But the tying it in front was almost impossible.

There were straps on each side of the gown.  There were also straps on the inside of each side of the gown.  My first attempt at tying the gown made me look a little like Britney Spears in the video for Baby One More Time.

I'm pretty sure that's not the look they were going for.  So I tried again.  And again.  And again.

Until finally I rigged it such that it wouldn't fall open on the two second walk from the dressing closet to the room with the giant panini machine.

And then off came the poorly tied gown and the mashing and flattening commenced. I had a nice chat with the technician about her daughter and her allergies and how her daughter was in the hospital having trouble breathing due to an asthma attack last spring and how she got written up for calling in and telling them she wouldn't be able to come in to work that day.  Apparently the company has a very strict policy about time off. And how she had to apply for FMLA and how she got it. 

And all the while she is turning the girls into pancakes.

Or paninis.

And I spent the rest of the day wondering why they don't just use panchos or shawls or tee shirts or anything but those Britney Spears shirts.   

And oddly craving pancakes. 

Or paninis.