is there a word for mammogram in lugandan?

i was waiting for my annual mammogram in the women's health area of the cancer center- reminding us that even though it's a 'screening' - what we're screening for - is cancer.

the only reading material was 'auto week' and 'golf' magazine. nice.

and it was  reminding me of what women go through in the world of medicine - because we are women.
we can start with mammograms and pap smears- good times. no really. then there is the business of baby making. this weekend while mike was recovering from his procedure, and mentioned feeling a little sore- i found myself having some sympathy, but also, maybe even- dare i say it- mild satisfaction? you see the guys get the 'feel good' part of the whole deal. we get years of monthly discomfort - and all that goes along with that. we get the 3 months of morning sickness, the 20# weight gain (with out drinking alcohol or eating sushi), that awful glucose tolerance test, and then the joys of labor- followed by a year of sleepless nights and wetting ourselves with milk if someone else's baby cries or we think of our little precious one for too long.  and  if we have to really work at getting pregnant- we get shots and scans and probed- joy.  so for him to step up to the plate, with his three kids in tow, and have some pain related to reproduction,  i'd say- good deal, but i'll add 'thank you'.  (and truth be told- i wouldn't trade it for anything! i loved being pregnant- the whole thing- even the labor- what a miracle! and if nursing hormones were a street drug- i'd be in trouble.)

i was thinking all this and feeling pretty good about my morning of accomplishments having posted the furniture for sale on craigslist, and the dog on craigslist and facebook- 'free to a good home'.  i'd cleaned out zoe's toys and clothes and had a massive pile for goodwill, emails were sent- things were happening. then my name was called and i moved from that waiting room into the actual waiting room- the one where you sit in chairs with 10 other women in robes- silently waiting.  at least they had some girl magazines- (but no cell service).  i pulled out my 'learning lugandan for tourists' book and started mouthing the words in lugandan for 'i'd like something to eat please', and trying to change 'i need a doctor' into  'i am a doctor'.  and as i sat there  - cold and robed and mildly anxious about my impending test- i began to panic.  for some reason, reading this language that is so not romance-languaged based,  that is so foreign from the languages i do know, i felt the enormity of it all.  like this language was a metaphor - that everything will be new and not romance- languaged based.  i had a moment of "maybe i'm too old for this kind of thing'.  then i began my recite my mantra- which then turned into just 'help!'  and then i began to envision the mammogram- the finding of an abnormality- the findings of cancer- that maybe i'd have to stay home and undergo radiation maybe even some chemotherapy- but it would all be in english- and i could go to starbucks afterwards..... what?

i took a breath.  i put down my phrase book.  i pick up the phone in the waiting room- the old-school black one with the curly cord and i called mike.

hi mike
hi- what's up?
oh nothing.
why are you whispering?
because i'm in a waiting room- um.... and i'm kind of freaked out.
about the mammogram? i'm sure it will be fine.
no.....are we crazy?
ooohhh.  do you want to talk?
no.  i want you to talk- i just want to listen. 
ok- yes we are crazy- but what we're about to do is not crazy.
(i bit my lip and my eyes got glossy)
silence
do you want me to keep talking?
yes.
ok- i'll read you this thing i was just writing.
thanks.

it was what i needed.  my other half to pull me back in.  i'd gotten out of orbit for a minute.
God showing up in the words of somebody.

this is ok.  this is good. this is exciting.  i'm not too old.  i will learn lugandan (eventually).
and i became thankful.  thankful for him reigning me back in.  thankful that i'm able to get mammograms and have babies and thankful that i'm getting to move my life to africa. 

"ms. reid?  come on back."
thank you.

(for those of you in uganda reading, i'm really not this nuts- don't worry.  i'm just transparent- overly transparent.  and if i do fall to bits- i'm easily re-assembled :) i promise)