Amy Barlow Liberatore… stories of lost years, wild times, mental variety, faith, and lots of jazz

Tag Archives: Mammograms

To my friends,

Just so you’ll understand my absence, my computer has been giving me the Blue Screen of Death (followed by The “Blue” Screams of Amy) and it’s going to have a Time Out at the repair shop.

Thanks to all for their prayers during yesterday’s second, third, fourth, and fifth mammograms, which reveal NOTHING!  “Old Leftie” is clean as the proverbial whistle.  Amen.  Thanks also to Carolyn for her wonderful advice (as expressed in “You’re EEEEK!  uh…”) and thank God I didn’t need most of it… this time.

Please say a prayer tonight for all the uninsured, who are unable to breeze into the clinic knowing they have insurance coverage like ours.  Pray for a national health plan that covers everyone… and if you have to give up your cosmetic surgery so that some kid doesn’t have to die from whooping cough, think about it… isn’t it worth that much?  Health care is a RIGHT, not a privilege.  We spend a thousand times more on bombing Afghanistan (and yes, Iran is next) into the Stone Age than we spend on health care.  Tea Party, please research, thanks.

See you in a few, and again, thanks for your support.  I love you all madly, as The Duke would say.  Peace, Amy


“You’re…” EEEEEK! uh…

Mammograms are the only day
when it doesn’t suck to be moi
I take ‘em out, I flop ‘em on
the glass, and they squish like foi gras

Then came two voice mails
on the same choice day
from the same office.

And suddenly my world morphed
from “as controlled as possible with meds”
to head-spinning dread, fed by
one freakin’ phone call.

All I must do is careen
back to the scene of the crime,
primed sans deodorant and scent,
rank with my own odor and fear.

It may be one mammo;
it may need more ammo.
a big needle thrust
to left of my bust.

“They’ll take the sample
with ample drama, mama,
and a big-ass needle, so
close your eyes and tell them
you have PTSD,” my beloved
survivor friend says.

“Then set phasers on STUN -it sounds
like a staple gun or Pac-Man as it
chomps in search of tissue.
Make them issue enough painkillers
to knock out a horse.”

“Of course,” I reply,
she laughs, knowing I
am immune to OTCs*
thanks to the 70’s…

…during which I imbibed
enough pharmaceuticals to
peel the cuticles off
a gorilla’s thumbnails.

It’s this Wednesday, folks,
please pray it’s a hoax,
and Old Leftie is “clean,”
if you know what I mean.

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

* OTCs are “over the counter” drugs like Advil, Tylenol, and aspirin. I could take a whole bottle for a headache and it would do nothing for the pain… but the Advil would trash my liver!

Sunday Scribblings asked us to come up with a poem about a “Eureka moment.” This is the down side of that concept, and we’re hoping and praying it has a happy ending! Will keep you posted. Also at the one office where nothing ever hurts… Poets United! Peace, Amy