Chapter 3: cont...

I went into one of the cubicles right next to the room with the mammogram machine to change into a hospital gown.
“Because this is a re-exam, I only have to check one breast.” Sheila told me. The “left one” I said, hopefully because my right breast has been sensitive for years. One of the reasons that I didn’t nurse my girls was that I found nursing too painful. The thought of having my right breast flattened between two glass plates was very unpleasant. Sheila looked at my chart, “No, she said, I have to get pictures of your right breast.”
“Damn” I thought, as I walked up to the machine.
Sheila flatted my breast in to position, then took some pictures, then took some more.
“I have to have a doctor look at these so wait right here because we might need more pictures.” Sheila said, and then left. I retrieved my book from the cubicle and started to read. I carry a book with me wherever I go. I do this for many reasons. First, I get board easily. Second if there are people around I find that they are less likely to talk to me if I am reading. And third if I find myself in a situation where I have to wait for awhile, I am able to loose myself in the world of my book and the waiting becomes easier.
So I waited… and waited. I was reading a book called “The Path between the Seas” by John McCullough, it was about the history of the building of the Panama Canal. I read a lot of histories of…type books. So there I was half-naked, sitting in a cold colorless hospital exam room (this room wasn't a real waiting room so I thought that it would be unfair to grade it) lost in the world of canal building. It was hot and steamy for the workers who were cutting a path thought the thick jungles of Panama. They were dying from malaria, and the men in charge of the project would not listen to Dr. William Gorgas who believed that controlling the mosquito population would reduce to number of men dying. Politics, not science were deciding how to handle the health care in Panama and men were dying because of it….Beep…Beep…"Paging Dr. Martin to radiology…Dr. Martin to Radiology". There had been many pages coming from the intercom which I had tuned out. I don’t know why this page jolted me out of Panama and back to New Jersey, but it did.