Smooshed!

In college I wrote a childhood story about a station wagon game appropriately named “smoosh your sister”.  While Marsha Brady was taking her drivers test in the Bunch wagon, I was taking my sisters to task in the wagon crusher. It was a simple and competitive game to pass time. We invented it while our parents shopped for groceries.

That Saturday, that event, has stayed with me for 40 years. I suppose all near death experiences do. I stretched across the back seat and waited for my sister’s to put the collapsible back on top of me. They walked around the wagon, climbed in the back and sat on top of the folded-down seat. I remember telling them to keep adding weight. I wanted to be smooshed the most. I wanted to win.

SNAP!

Sometimes you get what you ask for…I remained smooshed until my Dad was found in the store to come rescue me. I felt my lungs being crushed at the same time I realized my yelling father couldn’t even see me.

He finally gasped, released me and pulled me out and into the open air.

We were all together, yet I was all alone.

 I remembered the ordeal after a more recent smooshing. While my colleagues were   still at the office, I was on my way back from the doctor’s office. It was the story of a   lovely lady, that had just received her mammography. It’s a simple and recommended procedure – so you can hopefully pass more time in this life.

Yesterday, that scan, created another memory as I enter my 50th year. I slipped off my robe so I could hug the machine and waited for my technician. She walked around me, lifted up my boob and tightened it into a vice. I remember counting out the seconds. I wanted to be done in four pictures. I wanted out.

SNAP!

Sometimes your wishes don’t come true…my girls remained in their trap until she could take a fifth scan. I heard my boobs crying at the same time the technician told me to relax and “not move”. Trust me, you can’t.

I finally gasped, when she released me, and I took in some air.

I was soon all alone (removing stickers) but knew we were all in this together.

Right, ladies?

Forget the silly games, self-test and get the test.

breastcancer

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