“— CORIOLANUS, ACT III, SCENE 1 Suddenly, I’m a comedienne. A bad comedienne at that. Think Joan Rivers at the Berkshires dinner theater. “When was the date of your most recent mammogram?” the nurse asks me when I check in to the Mt. Olive Breast Care Center. “April twenty-second of this year.” “That’s impressive,” she says, writing it down. “Most women can’t recall.” “How could I not? It was the last time I took off my shirt for a man.” I can’t help it. It’s a nervous reaction. “Okay,” she says..., handing me a clipboard. “Go down the hall to the right. The waiting room is the third door. Take off your top and bra and put them in an empty locker. Slip into the johnny so it ties in the front. A technician will be right with you. Did you wear antiperspirant today?” I’m about to make another tasteless crack when I catch myself. “No. I didn’t.” My nerves don’t truly give out, though, until I’m waiting in the changing room with the other women.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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