Of Breasts + Breath

I follow the nurse into the Female Gowned Waiting Area at the Reichert Imaging Center. There are five other women there, all wearing cotton robes in various shades of Pepto Bismol and a blue that is as flat as the air. I change into a pink one, take a seat, and wait with the others. We are a pastel patient mosaic of bored, scared, and hopeful. I want to sit on the floor and stretch but stay planted in my seat for fear of making a scene, although I bet there are at least two women in the room who would join me.

Elyce?

A tiny female technician named Sam escorts me to the examination room.

Take your left arm out of the gown, please.

Sam puts little stickers on my breasts to mark all of my scars and then smashes my A cups in between the plastic plates.

Hold your breath.

Ten seconds.

Okay, breathe.

I think I forgot how.

I go back to the bland space. A continuous parade of women in cotton gowns walk out and then back in, each one of them clutching white papers, their permission slips into freedom.

I’m the only one left.

The TV is too loud.

A few new women walk in and out. I begin to wonder why I’m the only one who’s not getting the permission slip. After too long, a new tech invites me into the next exam room. She slathers warm gel onto my breasts and scans me with the hard, little device connected to the machine that shows what’s happening inside of me.

If they only knew.

Again, the wait. But this time I’m in a private room. So I jump up and dance to ELO on the piped in speakers singing “Don’t bring me down! No, no, no, no, no, ooooooh!” Then some Breath of Joy, dancing warriors, and self-massage, until the tech walks back in. She asks me what I’m doing.

You can’t leave a yogi in a private room and not expect some shift of energy.

I look at her name tag while she’s doing her job. Elephteria. Later on, I’ll look it up and find out that it means one who loves freedom. She does one more scan and leaves again. This time I get right into my groove and don’t stop until my freedom lover comes back.

She’s holding the white paper.

Benign: adj. goodhearted, amiable, filled with grace.

Ah yes, I certainly am.