“The Mammogram Industrial Complex,” by Emily Sinclair (Fiction ’14)
Fiction alum Emily Sinclair was recently featured in Barren Magazine. Read an excerpt of “The Mammogram Industrial Complex” below:
The Mammogram Industrial Complex
The patient sits on the exam table. The doctor says, Seatbelt? Sunscreen? Calcium? Good, good, good. Have you had a mammogram within the last year?
Well, I changed health insurance and we moved and so—
Have a mammogram.
The patient pushes open the door to the mammography center. She sees that it shares space with a doctor’s office that employs one of her ex-husband’s best friends, a man who luxuriates in his perceived charm. The patient re-considers her appointment, but goes in anyway. There is a Keurig in the waiting room, the scent of vanilla espresso faint but distinct.
The patient states her name.
The receptionist says, I love your hair. That big messy look. Sure wish I had it.
The patient has had a stressful day. She has not showered or even really eaten, except almonds. She hands over her insurance card and license.
I’m here for a cancer screening?
The receptionist winks, her mascaraed lashes dropping like a crow’s wing. I’d make a terrible bartender. Can’t tell how old anyone is. I’d guess you’re about thirty?
The patient is fifty-one. Her hair is greying and there are lines around her eyes and mouth. She points these things out.
Receptionist: Well, you look GREAT.
The patient ignores her, out of politeness. Why do some women find the dishonesty of flattery comforting? She looks away, like a cat.
Love your bag, the receptionist says.
*
Breast as object: The boys of the patient’s youth, trying to cop a feel. What exactly did they want? To squeeze a breast? To simply touch one? What drives the desire for this ductal network? How odd it seemed that a boy would want to suckle at her breast, like a baby. How erotic. Sex is the most inexplicable and mysterious part of any person. She Googles the first boy who ever touched her breast and he’s on YouTube saying he’s “very intentional about building a great workplace culture” and then she finds an obituary for his wife, who died of a rare cancer just weeks ago.
A tech says, I’ll take you back.
To when, the patient thinks, following the tech.
She is told to remove her shirt and bra and put on a warm pink robe.
Take off your robe. Stand here, next to the machine. Lean forward. Raise your arm. Turn your head to the side. I’m going to compress the breast now. I’m sorry. Are you okay? Take a breath and hold it. Now let it go.
On the screen are white branching ducts leading from the milk-producing lobes to the nipple. The patient does not know how to read the image. Except that there is a small solid circle among the branches.
Read the piece in its entirety here: https://barrenmagazine.com/the-mammogram-industrial-complex/
