Today I had a mammogram because my primary care doctor thought she felt a “thickening” while conducting my annual physical last week. (Once again, I had nothing better to say than, “Um, kinda” when asked if I do my monthly self-exams.)

I didn’t know that when you have a mammogram, you have to stand with no shirt on while a nurse watches as you wipe off your deodorant and then flattens out your breast on a little plate, smashes it down with another plate and yells, “Don’t move at all! Don’t move at all!” as she generates pictures of your fatty tissue.

There’s a lot of breast handling by the nurse, who is, of course, a total stranger.

Lucky for me, my thickening magically disappeared between last week and this, and I don’t have do this again until I’m 40.