Pulling the hospital robe closer about her shoulders, Emma glanced around the waiting area at the other women. She was the youngest one in the room by far. Most of them sat quietly, flipping through magazines, or chatting with the other patients, old hands at having a mammogram.
Emma jiggled her knee. She had no idea what to expect. One thing she already learned was having someone accompany her to this appointment wouldn't matter. They would be sitting in the outer reception room alone while she waited here.
When the receptionist called her back immediately after her arrival, Emma hoped to get this over with quickly. Instead, an aide gave her a robe and gown, not paper this time, and showed her a changing room where she took off her shirt and bra, but left on her underwear, shorts, and flip-flops. Then the woman gave her a locker to put all her things in and brought her to this waiting area.
Sitting with only her thoughts to occupy her gave Emma too much time to think. She needed to distract herself somehow. Maybe she'd talk to Anna tonight. Although Emma liked being closer to Hannah again, she missed her best friend from college. They had lived together for three years, Sophomore year in the dorms and Junior and Senior year in their own apartment. The three months since their graduation had flown by.
Her father, Mikey, and Clay came to New York to see her accept her diploma and to celebrate with her. Crossing the stage and hearing her loved ones cheer her name, made all the hard work and doubts worth the struggle.
Her life now was certainly different from what she planned when she started at Tisch. She thought she'd stay in New York City after she finished her degree. Her relationship with Clay caused her to rethink those plans, but she found the choice easy. First, she couldn't imagine her life without Clay, and he needed to be in Virginia. Second, during the time Emma studied music, she discovered there was so much more to it than standing on a stage performing for people. She learned to write songs as well as sing them.
Songwriting brought the next deviation from her original plan. Her final semester of her senior year, she took a songwriting seminar. Students applied for the course, but entrance was competitive. The professor only accepted those he believed showed the most talent. Once admitted, Emma found the work challenging, but enjoyable. She and her classmates worked individually and together to write songs and critiqued each other's work.
Professor Stanford brought in guest speakers, both in person and through Zoom. One guest, a former student who ran a music publishing business in Nashville, listened to a few of the students' songs, Emma's included. Before leaving New York, she asked to meet with Emma, praising Emma's work and offering her a music publishing contract.
Shocked, Emma called Clay to share the big news. Part of her didn't believe the offer was true, but Clay's excitement made it real for her. He helped her find a lawyer, through Ash of all people, to go over the contract with her before she signed. The lawyer suggested changes improving the conditions of the deal for Emma. Now her song, written for a class assignment, had been bought by a famous country group, and they were recording it for their next album.
"Excuse me, are you Emma Hayes?" A nurse was standing by Emma, giving her an expectant look.
"Oh yes, that's me." Emma stood. "Sorry, I was off in my own world."
"No worries. Come down the hall with me, and we'll take care of you."
"Okay." Following the nurse, Emma tried to peek into the different rooms along the way. Through the few open doors, she could see a sizable piece of equipment with a tray-like piece on the front.
They entered a room, and the nurse turned to Emma. "This is your first mammogram."
"Am I that obvious?"
"Only to an old pro like me." The nurse smiled at Emma. "Also, it says so in your chart. Here's what we're going to do. I'll have you take off the robe. We give those out because it can be chilly in the waiting room. Then you'll unsnap the front of your gown and take it off one shoulder." Stepping up to the large, white machine, the nurse pointed to the tray area. "You'll rest your breast here, and I'll lower this top plate. It will squeeze your breast a little, but don't worry, it will be more uncomfortable than painful. The technician will take some images while you stand as still as possible. Because you do have a lump on your breast, we'll most likely reposition you and take some more images. Once the tech is happy, and we've gotten everything we need, we'll swap sides and do it again."
"Okay," Emma replied faintly. She slipped the robe off her shoulders and laid it on a chair sitting by the wall. Slowly she approached the apparatus, stopping in front of it and unsnapping her gown.
The nurse adjusted the height of the bottom plate. "Step a little closer now."
Emma pressed against the front of the lower plate and rested her right breast on it. Lowering the upper plate, the nurse pressed the tissue between the two. She rested her hand on Emma's shoulder. "Hold still now, and I'll be right back."
Left alone in the room, Emma decided describing this procedure as uncomfortable was an understatement. It didn't hurt exactly, but having your boob squished between two flat plastic pieces felt unpleasant and embarrassing.
Just when Emma thought she couldn't stand still anymore, the nurse returned to the room. "Now I'm going to adjust your breast, so we can take some images that focus more on the lump." She raised the upper plate. "Turn your body so your right side is closer to the machine." Emma moved, and the nurse rearranged Emma's breast then lowered the upper plate once more. "Stay still again."
The nurse stepped out another time, leaving Emma holding an awkward position. The pinch of the two plates on her body stretched the skin around her breast, which started to hurt. Emma thought she couldn't do this for much longer when the nurse returned. "All set on this side. Let's swap to the other." She raised the top plate, and Emma stepped back.
Resisting the urge to rub her abused flesh, Emma raised the gown onto her right shoulder and lowered it on the left. She stepped up to the machine again and rested her other breast on the plate. They repeated the procedure, and finally the whole thing was over.
"When will I get the results from this?" Emma asked the nurse before she left the room.
"We'll send them to your doctor, most likely by the end of the day, but possibly in the morning. Your doctor will be in touch with you."
Nodding, Emma exited the room and headed to the locker where she left her things.