Smashin' Party

I went to a party on Friday. I can say that it was the worst party I have ever attended in my life. As a consolation prize for turning 40, I was ordered to attend a mammogram. No, no formal invitation. I was just told to be there and I didn't have my bells on. So, on the drive into the doctor's office I kept telling myself over and over, "Smashin is the new Fashion". Yes, I am replacing the pink ribbon campaign with that slogan. 


I totally understand why this is necessary and if I hadn't been having an issue, I would have probably put it off until 2012. The initial phone call to set up the appointment was funny in itself. When the appointment setter called, she asked me if I had implants. I busted into laughter and said, "no honey, once you see these puppies, you will know they are all mine and nobody would have paid for these little pebbles."


After undressing from the waste up, I was smashed, cupped, fondled and didn't even receive a kiss, no alcohol, chips or dip. At one point, I told the nice lady we weren't friends! I now know how cows feel at the dairy farm. Then it was on to an ultrasound which was just as uncomfortable, but she had a little more of a sweeter demeanor, and explained to me that women are obtaining mammograms as young as teenage years now. That breast cancer now has no age limit. And thank goodness I have no signs of breast cancer.


So, every year, I now know, that even if I don't get invited to the hottest ticket in town, I have a standing invitation to extend another year of my life by being aware of my body. Maybe next year for the Smashin' Party, I will sneak in a skinny cocktail. I am sure after looking at tata's all day long they could use a drink.

Happy Holidays and celebrate the tata's!

Dusty