Secrets
The technician who did my initial mammogram last June looked familiar – she lives in our neighborhood and takes walks with her family. If she recognized me, she didn’t say so, a silence I appreciated as she coaxed my breasts and torso into a series of awkward poses. Finally, she asked me to have a seat in the inner waiting area, but to stay in the bathrobe in case the radiologist wanted more images. I waited, relaxed and comfortable, availing myself of the tea and magazines thoughtfully provided. When Lorie returned, she called me in for more images. This time we worked at squashing my armpit – site of the offending lump – into submission. Picture trying to turn your armpit inside out: it just wasn’t meant to work that way. Lorie was gentle and apologetic. And supremely poker-faced. My friend MK MacNaughton debuted an art show at the Juneau-Douglas City Museum a few weeks ago, and sent me a version of the exhibit printed on card stock. Called “Secrets,” the show features M