Tonight, I went for my annual mammogram.  Like hundreds of women before me, I undressed in the locker room and took my seat in the waiting area.  While I appreciated the heated gown (a nice gesture), the heat quickly dissipated as I sat down to wait for my name to be called. There were probably seven or eight other women waiting, too.  They were all flipping through outdated magazines, trying to seem normal, perhaps even nonchalant, as they waited for their studies.  I didn't immediately pick up a magazine.  I glanced around the room, looking at all of my partners, wondering what was in their heads, what they were thinking about.  Was this a follow up mammogram?  Did they have a lump? Was there a family history of breast cancer ?  Did they know someone with breast cancer?  Had they ever lost someone to breast cancer?

As each woman got called, in my head, I wished her well. Then it was my turn.  Dutifully following the technician's instructions, I twisted, and turned and held my breath. Minutes later, as she confirmed the images were 'good,' I relaxed a bit and returned to the dressing room.  As I walked past the waiting area, a few of my compadres were still there.  I said out loud, "Good night, Ladies. Best wishes."

I opened my locker, got dressed, and headed out to my car.  I'll wait for my results and I'll hope that all of my friends tonight get good news.