"Nervous," I said. I didn't tell her I'd spent the previous week fighting the temptation to cancel this appointment.
"Why?" she asked.
"I don't know," I hesitated, "maybe because I'm about to have my breasts compressed in a window pane."
She smiled.
"Or," I continued with the real reason, "maybe because I get nervous whenever I go looking for trouble."
She handed me a gown, reviewed the brief instructions and told me to meet her in the X-ray room.
Less than 15 minutes later, I was on my way home.
To be clear, a mammogram is not painful. It is much more unpleasant to have your teeth cleaned or endure a Charley horse or wrestle a half-frozen Thanksgiving turkey into the oven.
It's not the procedure that puts me on edge. It is prepping for the results.
I have very dear family members who are currently battling breast cancer. I have friends and acquaintances who have gone to war against this beast too.
I know their stories about ports, sickness, exhaustion, surgery, recovery and, of course, fear. I have sat with them during chemotherapy treatments.
At one moment in time, each of them stood in front of an X-ray machine, hoping the high-tech apparatus would lead to peace of mind and, like me, wondering if they were right to go in search of monsters.
I purposely chose October for this year's screening because it is National Breast Cancer Awareness month. Awareness has helped the breast cancer death rate in the United States drop by 44% since 1989, according to the National Breast Cancer Foundation.
While the child in me is always temped to hide from bad news, the adult in me knows that awareness is power.
Two screenings ago, I was told I have "dense" breasts and was given a subsequent order for an ultrasound.
Aside from being a rather unflattering way to say "hard to read," dense breast tissue is common and may require further testing, according to the foundation. It estimates that nearly half of women over 40 have what I prefer to call "challenging" or "guarded" breasts
That can be a reason to worry even more going into your screening, because you already know that a negative result may only mean you passed the first test.
Once again, within hours of my most recent mammogram, I was informed that my scan came back OK.
In hindsight, the relief makes my pre-test willies seem silly. But I am hardly alone when it comes to medical testing anxiety.
The fact remains, early detection is key to nipping cancer in the bud.
Despite considerable progress in battling this disease, "breast cancer remains the second leading cause of cancer death among women overall and the leading cause of cancer death in Black and Hispanic women," according to "CA: A Cancer Journal for Clinicians," produced by the American Cancer Society.
Black women have a 38% higher mortality rate than white women despite lower incidence of the disease, the articles states. Some of that can be attributed to a decline in screenings during the COVID pandemic or an overall lack of access to screenings and treatments.
It's clear, there's still considerable work to be done.
"Progress against breast cancer could be accelerated by mitigating racial disparities through increased racial diversity in clinical trials as well as community partnerships and other initiatives that increase access to high-quality screening and treatment among underserved women," the article states.
Increasing access, of course, also involves addressing the anxiety that can keep people from scheduling their screening.
Dr. Sarah Shubeck is a breast surgical oncologist with University of Chicago Medicine. She recently had her own annual mammogram and has lots to share about overcoming anxiety associated with the noninvasive test.
I am sharing some of her tips here. You can find even more at www.uchicagomedicine.org/forefront/prevention-and-screening-articles/overcoming-mammogram-anxiety.
First of all, who should be in this queue?
Shubeck said, "We recommend yearly mammograms for people with an average risk for breast cancer, starting at age 40. If someone has a higher risk for developing breast cancer, based on their family history or other genetic risks, we sometimes start earlier."
During a screening, "we take two images of each breast, which involves compressing them in two different positions," she says.
Shubeck says that while mammograms aren't the "most comfortable thing ... they generally aren't very painful."
The equipment has come a long way over the years, in terms of accuracy and alleviating discomfort, Shubeck said.
Screenings typically take 10 to 15 minutes, she said, and results are often available within a few days.
Try not to let post-screening anxiety get the best of you while you wait.
"I often tell my patients that with breast cancer, rarely does a day make a difference. I recognize that may be easier to say than to live with, but hopefully it provides some comfort that there likely won't be a serious medical implication for waiting 24 hours for your results," she said.
"After your screening," Shubeck said, "congratulate yourself for doing something good for your health."
And for womankind.
Each and every woman (and man) who has endured a breast cancer diagnosis has in some way amplified the greater good. Their data and their battles have helped expand the body of knowledge that improves treatment, enhances insight and encourages hope.
I know that when I approach that machine, I am wrapped in not just a robe, but decades of sacrifice and research and painstaking progress.
The least I can do is face my fear while I lean in and "hold my breath."