Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2021-08-19 11:23 pm
azurelunatic) wrote2021-08-19 11:23 pm
Mammograb, again
I knew I was unlikely to get any basement stuff done today (Thursday) so I did A Lot on Wednesday, then called Belovedest downstairs for a second opinion on whether we could chair swap between the guest nook and Sewzb0t Parlor. They thought we could! And furthermore, they proposed shoving a bookcase out of the way instead of having to move possibly three or four pieces of furniture and several boxes. I was on board with that, and so we did that thing and the chairs were switched and I had them hang up one of the decorative pieces I'd accidentally acquired off Craigslist as a privacy curtain for the bed end of the guest nook. And we deployed the folding desk thing, and grabbed a folding chair, and it's looking remarkably cozy.
Today was The Mammogram. I woke up in time to proceed in a leisurely fashion through the morning routine (with some brainhacking about how Shower Does Not Have To Feel Like An Entire Production, which is potentially incorrect due to Fucking Bodies but whatever) and then about an hour before I was due to leave, I went to look for a certain piece of paperwork that was supposed to be in a specific binder pocket and It Was Not There. I promptly scheduled myself a very organized panic attack and went clawing through a stack of paper with my bonus size pad of fingertip moistener. I found it about half an hour before I was supposed to leave.
I dressed sensibly for the trip (no bra, a loose and easy to remove top) and was off. Slowly, because someone tried to call me and I had to pull over because I was expecting a call and my phone did not want to give me the actual phone. (It was not the call I was expecting. I rebooted after I arrived.) I passed a motorhome on the side of the road near where the Barbie's Dream Motorhome was destroyed. Someone who was driving like an asshole whipped around me and beat me to one of the good parking spots. Hrmf.
I got checked in and barely had time to read half the privacy policy before I was being called back. Someone tried to barge in on me while I was changing, because there are not many changing booths. I found a seat, and helped orient two people who had put on the standard white bathrobes but didn't quite know what to do next. (Have a seat, and they will call you by name.) Shortly after that it was my turn.
The equipment was room temperature plastic, not particularly cold. The poses I had to get into were extremely awkward and I would have preferred that someone else be there to appreciate the hilarity, because I was
a) twisting myself about like the twisted ones
b) reminiscent of models for Renaissance art
and in conclusion if you are into predicament bondage and need mammograms perhaps you have a top who could make your experience of a mammogram better.
When I was all finished I got dressed again, waited my turn for the bathroom, then came home. The large tow truck was just starting to get the motor home loaded. I enlisted Alex's help to get the 12 year old smoke detector out of commission and no longer chirping at us, and wrote a Customer Service Letter.
So, all in all it went basically how I expected it to be from that location.
The form also insisted that my name did not have punctuation. The version of my wallet name that I use in business and medical contexts has punctuation, sometimes.
I flattened myself after that, and suggested a dinner. By the time that was in progress I was un-flat enough to emerge, and the initial test results (just fine, thanks) were in. (Not that I was expecting anything else. And the tech made sure to get that probably-underwire-caused dimple on the right side.)
Belovedest was headachey, and tea wasn't entirely fixing it. I had A Thought, and grabbed a bar of chocolate covered marzipan. I made a little hollow in it. Belovedest heard the rattle of the ibuprofen jar and started to laugh.
alexseanchai: "What's going on?"
Belovedest: "Azz is pilling me."
They took their ibuprofen, and ate enough of the marzipan bar to cushion the ibuprofen.
Dinner did set off the kitchen smoke detector on account of the high-temperature mozzarella sticks. I need to remember to request marinara sauce from fast-food orders, since the correct amount of it currently for me is a tiny amount, and that makes having big jars of it a little awkward.
I got an email from Mama with an update on Dad's condition. It's not great.
Today was The Mammogram. I woke up in time to proceed in a leisurely fashion through the morning routine (with some brainhacking about how Shower Does Not Have To Feel Like An Entire Production, which is potentially incorrect due to Fucking Bodies but whatever) and then about an hour before I was due to leave, I went to look for a certain piece of paperwork that was supposed to be in a specific binder pocket and It Was Not There. I promptly scheduled myself a very organized panic attack and went clawing through a stack of paper with my bonus size pad of fingertip moistener. I found it about half an hour before I was supposed to leave.
I dressed sensibly for the trip (no bra, a loose and easy to remove top) and was off. Slowly, because someone tried to call me and I had to pull over because I was expecting a call and my phone did not want to give me the actual phone. (It was not the call I was expecting. I rebooted after I arrived.) I passed a motorhome on the side of the road near where the Barbie's Dream Motorhome was destroyed. Someone who was driving like an asshole whipped around me and beat me to one of the good parking spots. Hrmf.
I got checked in and barely had time to read half the privacy policy before I was being called back. Someone tried to barge in on me while I was changing, because there are not many changing booths. I found a seat, and helped orient two people who had put on the standard white bathrobes but didn't quite know what to do next. (Have a seat, and they will call you by name.) Shortly after that it was my turn.
The equipment was room temperature plastic, not particularly cold. The poses I had to get into were extremely awkward and I would have preferred that someone else be there to appreciate the hilarity, because I was
a) twisting myself about like the twisted ones
b) reminiscent of models for Renaissance art
and in conclusion if you are into predicament bondage and need mammograms perhaps you have a top who could make your experience of a mammogram better.
When I was all finished I got dressed again, waited my turn for the bathroom, then came home. The large tow truck was just starting to get the motor home loaded. I enlisted Alex's help to get the 12 year old smoke detector out of commission and no longer chirping at us, and wrote a Customer Service Letter.
I am a patient who has a non-binary gender (falling under the transgender umbrella), who does not use the name on my state ID, who is fat, who has breathing problems, and who has mobility problems. Your patient experience for all of these categories has opportunities to improve.
It is tiring to need to insist, at length, that I will need to be seated for the procedure. I had to strongly advocate for myself last year. I had to strongly advocate for myself this year. My mobility problems and breathing problems work together badly. I cannot stand absolutely still. I cannot hold my breath without shaking. Wearing a mask makes it harder for me to breathe, and I have had to step up my mobility accommodations throughout the pandemic accordingly. It would leave me exhausted and in pain for the rest of the day to make the attempt. It is very tiring to have to keep insisting on this, and to have to remain firm in the fact of someone trying to encourage me to make the attempt.
I would like to compliment your mammogram technician, who did ultimately work with my physical limitations. Getting a mammogram is always awkward, and she made it at least amusing. She took care to use the correct name while she was looking at the piece of paper where it was printed. I have worked in customer service seeing a high volume of clients, and I know how names can slip out of your head if it's not right in front of you when you are working with multiple people all day long and especially if you only see each one on a yearly basis. I do not blame her for the fact that she used the wrong name once she was in front of the screen of the imaging system; the system had to be blasting her with my dead name, and again, it is very hard to remember the correct name to start with. Please inform the vendor of these systems that they need to improve the patient experience for transgender folks and anyone else who might be using a different name than what appears on their ID.
All staff appear to be very used to most patients being women and using she/her pronouns. I use they/them pronouns, and this should appear in my medical record. One of the people at the front desk turned to ask a colleague what to do with one of the documents I brought. It was extremely clear to me that she did not intend to misgender me, but "What do I do with her document?" is absolutely an instance of misgendering. I do not blame her for this, but it made my experience that much more awkward. Directly after this, I mentioned that when talking to another person about a transgender person is when you use their pronouns, and she looked completely baffled as to why I was mentioning that at that moment. If the medical records program does not make the pronouns that someone should be using for me appear prominently, near my preferred name, there is a problem with the program and you should contact the vendor.
All of your waiting room chairs appear to be the same model. They are of a standard size, with arms. If I were any more fat than I am, I would not be able to sit in any of these chairs. If I am wearing a jacket or one of the bulky bathrobes that we wear after taking off our tops, the chair tries to stand up with me. I strongly recommend that you vary your chairs to include wider chairs and/or armless chairs, and more than one, because it is not a safe assumption that you will have only one patient who needs or prefers a wide chair at the same time.
Thank you for your attention to this.
I have a sleep disorder. Please do not call me. My phone number is there because the form requires it, not because I want anyone to make my phone make noise while I'm asleep.
So, all in all it went basically how I expected it to be from that location.
The form also insisted that my name did not have punctuation. The version of my wallet name that I use in business and medical contexts has punctuation, sometimes.
I flattened myself after that, and suggested a dinner. By the time that was in progress I was un-flat enough to emerge, and the initial test results (just fine, thanks) were in. (Not that I was expecting anything else. And the tech made sure to get that probably-underwire-caused dimple on the right side.)
Belovedest was headachey, and tea wasn't entirely fixing it. I had A Thought, and grabbed a bar of chocolate covered marzipan. I made a little hollow in it. Belovedest heard the rattle of the ibuprofen jar and started to laugh.
alexseanchai: "What's going on?"Belovedest: "Azz is pilling me."
They took their ibuprofen, and ate enough of the marzipan bar to cushion the ibuprofen.
Dinner did set off the kitchen smoke detector on account of the high-temperature mozzarella sticks. I need to remember to request marinara sauce from fast-food orders, since the correct amount of it currently for me is a tiny amount, and that makes having big jars of it a little awkward.
I got an email from Mama with an update on Dad's condition. It's not great.
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That's a good letter. I hope it yields results.
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"The chocolate coating makes it go down easier."
but then, I am weird.
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So do I.
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I love the pilling idea
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Happy the mammogram went well! Sorry that they fudged a lot of it, and it was inaccessible. I had a roommate with EDS and POTS and it was a huge struggle to find accessibility anywhere.
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Hurray for making it through the mamogram