I’m a bad mammogrammer, or apparently June 9th is a day for being disrobed in front of medical personnel

It’s June 9th.  You know what that means, right?  Have you disrobed in front of medical personnel yet?  You haven’t?  Maybe it’s just me that does that.

Today was mammogram day.  Fun times!  The lady comes out to the waiting room and says, “Jane?”  Yep.  That’s me.  I hand her the paperwork the desk has given me, stick out my hand and say, “And you are?”  She looks taken aback for a second and then tells me that her name is Judy and shakes my hand.  It may be weird to ask the technician her name, but really, if you’re going to be touching my naked boob, we should be on a first name basis.  A drink would have been nice too, but 9 am was too early for that, I suppose.  At least the room was dimly lit…

And that brings me to the other time I spent time unclothed in front of medical personnel on this date, the day my youngest was born.  What a wild day and night that was.  I’ll spare you the long version of the story.  The short version is that I labored all day at home to try and avoid as much medical intervention as possible (read IV-I’m needle phobic!) and ended up having that beautiful baby at home with the help of my wonderful husband and later the whole fire department, all of the EMTs and quite a few police officers who apparently had nothing better to do at 10 o’clock in the evening. 

And then what do the EMTs do after all is over and I’m holding my sweet little baby boy and they are readying us for transport to the hospital?  They tell me it’s policy for them to put an IV in!  Damnation. 

By the way, that boy who came in to the world in such an exciting way 11 years ago has kept us on our toes ever since!  And I mean that in a good way!  

Happy birthday, Isaac Russell!

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