"You'll need to sign here by the X that you read the policy on personal information and sign your name here and your intials here and there. Ok then. Go through that door and I'll meet you on the other side."

"You'll put this gown on, so undress from the waist up leave the gown open in the front and have a seat in that room, they'll call you when they are ready."

I step behind the blue colored curtain and draw it close. Remove my sweatshirt, tank top then bra, wonder why I wearing so many clothes, pull my ams through the gown and tie it in the front. I gather my articles of clothing and stuff them into my purse and head out into the room.

One other woman is there, she smiles politiely and continues to read her Better Homes and Gardens magazine. There's a TV but it's not on, so I pick up a copy of Metropolitan Home and sink back into the hard uncomfortable chair.

Just as I get into the magazine she calls my name and into the room I go. After some informal chit chat and name introductions she begins, "What is your birthdate?, How old are you? What age were you when you first got pregnant? When was your last period? Do you have any tenderness in your breasts? Does breast cancer run in your family?"

After she verifies my information, she tells me to slip my right arm out of the gown. "Ok, she says, we'll start on the right. I will move you into position" And with that the Mammogram has begun. "You'll feel some compression on your breast" Translation: your breast is about to be as flat as a frisbee and feel as if a large elephant is stepping on it. "Now, we'll repeat with the other side" Wow I think I may have died and gone to hell.

And so it begins...the journey to 40. This little trip includes enduring a mammogram to protect yourself from breast cancer. So now I wait and see. Oh lucky me.