I had two doctor's appointments this afternoon so I took a boatload of knitting with me in case I had to wait too long.
I almost took a phone pic of myself - in the teeny, tiny paper-thin gown - with my knitting propped up close to my chest trying to keep the aforementioned gown covering my "assests" - with a giant wall sized window overlooking downtown San Francisco on the most glorious sunny day. But I couldn't figure out where I'd hold the phone and still keep the gown closed.
That visual probably pales in comparison to one of me, inside the mammy room, with little stickers with metal dots placed over my nips, gown dropped around my waist, my "assests" being positioned
in the vise-grip they call a mammogram machine by a woman I've never met before who happens to be from Petaluma but grew up in Columbia and was taught to cross-stitch by the nuns and now hates to cross-stitch because it feels like home-work. And I know all this how? You guessed it - the x-ray tech who vise-gripped my boobs is a knitter. She's looking for a new shop in Petaluma - her favorite lys closed and she hasn't knit a stitch since. And the more bizarre part of this whole event - once I knew she was a knitter - I totally forgot I was nearly nekkid in front of a stranger - knitters are never strangers :)