So, among the many things I’m feeling overwhelmed by at the moment is the fact that I still haven’t made an appointment to get a mammogram. I’m honestly not even sure if I can just call up the – umm, what are mammogram clinics even called? – or if I need to go to my primary care doctor first.
As I’m debating this, a college friend who turned 40 six weeks before me says she got her mammogram done at a clinic in Vancouver where they use some fancy new imaging equipment that’s supposed to be a bit “gentler” overall.
“Are those machines common now?” I ask her, hoping I don’t have to drive to Vancouver just to get a mammogram.
“No,” she tells me, “There are apparently only a couple on the west coast – Vancouver and Tahoe.”
We made jokes, then, about going to Tahoe for a girls weekend, all of us getting mammograms in between spa treatments and long nights at the bar. When I mentioned this to another recently-turned-40 friend, however, she didn’t think it was funny at all.
She thought it was genius.
So, Tahoe, I hereby propose to you a new and probably-previously-untapped audience of medical tourists: the mammogrammers. I also hereby volunteer myself and my 40-ish gal pals for a test run. Call me. Let’s talk.
photo by compujeramey