Skip to main content

Fifty Three And Counting

Fifty Three and Counting 

/EXID2593/slideshows/mammogram1.jpg


 Birthdays are always fun no matter what age and status in life you are in.  I celebrated mine with an early chat  with Gina, a mammography technologist, We had a discourse on  the weird weather in St. Louis, the Hobbit movie which should be watched in 3D to fathom  the slyness of Gollum and what I should do the rest of the day. 

 Yes, I had my annual date with  my own version of Terminator , the GE Senograph Machine and Gina was my Arnold Schwarzenegger (before the infidelity scandal) . Having born with a small but very dense breast, more often  my breasts would be  scrunched  by the unforgiving paddle more than twice for better image. I will dread the day when some Facebook people would start posting their mammography x-ray film on their timeline just to compensate for pain.

Now I have to wait for the result from the beast, oops Dr. Biest. Yes, I have a male gynecologist and his name is Dr. Biest. An acquaintance of mine questioned why I shifted from an Asian Indian female gynecologist  to an American male gynecologist , especially in a very delicate matter concerning my private parts.  I thought that a female  physician would fully understand a woman's problem but in my case, I was wrong . 

I am perfectly comfortable with the Biest, who can better figure out a woman but a man!  And besides this practitioner had been in this business for 22 years, can you imagine how many vaginas he has examined and seen. Unless he has eidetic memory, he can probably associate the face of his patient when he sees her on a mall trying on 14- inch stiletto shoes with her vajayjay (ala Oprah) would look at that time.  


Moving on with my birthday celebration, my husband took me to an Indian buffet at Mayuri, specializing in South-North Indian cuisine. My mouth was on fire during the whole time we were eating and the continuous audible discharge of intestinal gas (okay- it means fart) was still pestering me till late  evening.  Blame it on rogan josh, gajar halwa and kheer.

Photo from Examiner.com

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Kermit and Mickey Mouse , Sad

I am a sucker for old fashion cartoons that I can proudly admit that I saw Snow white and the Seven Dwarfs more than I can count my fingers and toes; unabashedly cried when the great King Mufasa died and Simba tried to wake him up, commiserate with  Miss Piggy in her unrequited love for Kermit and other emotional display of affection to these animated personalities that I won't mention for it will totally make me look beyond silly . I n May of 1990, the creator of the Muppets, Jim Henson died.  I saw a tribute from the Disney artist of a drawing of Kermit the Frog being consoled by Mickey Mouse on the death of Kermit's creator.  That drawing created an imprint on my mind the idea of  raw sadness associated with death. Ironic that non living cartoon characters could invoke such  cogent feeling in me, on issue of death.  Here is the photo I am talking about:  T here is a colored version of this but I was still digging up the Internet and up to this point I have no lu
16 comments
Read more

Chiyo

Lately, I had been watching a lot of Short feature movies. I find  these movies engrossing and thought-provoking.  No mega stars, CGI's or fancy props but it leaves an imprint on my mind that I can recall an entire movie even if I saw it months ago.  Last night I saw the brilliant work of Masanori  Babu, writer, producer and director of Chiyo. It's about the story of Chiyo (played by Miyu Tanaka) her quest to see her father (Hiromasa Takagi) , a soldier who went to war in 1944.  A year later on the night of the Obon, a Buddhist tradition wherein the dead  visit their relative, Chiyo searches  for his father.  During the course of her search she met various spirits but not her father. When she finally found him, he can not see her. He told her,the hell he saw in the arena of war  blinded him.  He was implying that there was  a limit to man's ability to endure extreme cruelty and not seeing what you were seeing was the only way to survive (his spirit not his physical being in
Post a Comment
Read more

A question is a question and forever a question

I was the last child of my mother, she died when I was a baby at the age of 40. Being motherless and with other 9 siblings to contend with ,ain't no fun.  People, successful or the opposite of what a succes should be are often asked, would you change the story of your life  if you are given the chance? Answer of  course would be relative, who would want to be a hobo all their lives; Bill Gates will say no, I am betting my last dollar on it.  After ruminating the events that had transpired from the day I saw the daylight (not even sure if I was born on daytime or at night) to where I am right now (a happy married life, good health, loving family and friends; and a demanding cat) there is only one thing I would change. I wish my mother had not died young.  But I believe there is no such thing as untimely death. If its your time its your time, no ifs and buts.  My siblings and I often wonder the scenario if Nanay is alive. What would she look like at old age, will the direction of
2 comments
Read more