This very personal piece was written in spring 2020 as the COVID-19 pandemic was bringing the whole world to a grinding halt. I debated sharing it, but was inspired by all the woman out there who have been or are currently in this particular battle. It was published in The Globe and Mail First Person section on February 18, 2021 under the title “How the Barenaked Ladies got me through my mammogram”.
*Artwork credit: Waiting for the shower to heat up enough, Alison Farrer
Here is an excerpt:
I’m staring up at a ceiling of white acoustic tiles. Why is there always one stained from a water leak? Barenaked Ladies play through the overhead speakers. How ironic, in a mammography and medical imaging lab where many of the patients are (somewhat) barenaked ladies? If I had a million dollars The radio station crackles in and out of tune – who listens to the radio anymore? Why am I crying? Stop crying you idiot, furiously wiping away the tear leaking from my left eye. Everything is going to be fine. Calcification. That doesn’t sound so scary. Lumps. Lumps sounds scary.
