Squish

I went for a mammogram Wednesday afternoon. The whole experience was pretty unremarkable and not much to blog about, but I did notice one thing while I was standing there in one of those attractive gowns that open in the front. Quite a few medical personnel, from doctors to lab techs, find it unnecessary to introduce themselves to the patient. Now it may be just me, but I think if you're going to have me standing half-naked in a chilly room and injecting x-ray juice into my boobies the least you could do is tell me who you are. Christine, although not overly friendly, was certainly efficient and seemed to know what she was doing. But when I asked her what her name was (while she was hoisting my boobage up onto the cold slab) she gave it rather reluctantly, like maybe she was in trouble or something. What's the problem with saying who you are?! I just don't get it. I have another doctor's appointment today ~ this time with the eye doctor. This will be my first time seeing him and I hope, for his sake, that he introduces himself to me. (I also hope there won't be any more boob squishing.)