Pursuing the elusive mammogram

Sometimes you just have to wonder. I need my annual, but now, due to my procrastination, biennial mammogram. I have been getting them at the Princess Margaret Hospital in Toronto, but having retired and left the city two years ago, I felt it was time I had the test done locally.

To get this underway, my family doctor at the local clinic gave me a slip of paper with the number I was to call at the Ontario Breast Screening Program. I called them this morning and was immediately asked if I had the purple form. No, mine was white. This was puzzling apparently, so I read what was on it; I inferred that it lined up pretty well with what would have been on the purple form. However, had I ever had cancer? Well yes, 12 years ago and it had resulted in a right mastectomy. So we would only be doing a mammogram on the left? Yup, seems so. But I said out loud, yes, that’s correct. However, it turns out they are interested only in women who have NOT ever had breast cancer.

Hmmm. I suggested I could phone the Princess Margaret Hospital where I have received my past mammograms. Did they know if I could self-refer? No, they didn’t. Should I ask my doctor for the purple form?  Oh no, no, don’t do that! Okay, then I won’t. What form should I ask for? It seems a prescription form was the thing.

Well, thinking out loud, I suggested maybe I’d phone the Princess Margaret myself and my family doctor’s office as well if need be. That sounded good to her. We agreed this all seemed a bit silly since one would assume a breast screening program should screen people like me. We rang off cordially.

I like the Princess Margaret. The people there are efficient and pleasant; at the appointment, the wait is not too long; and most importantly, all my records are there. I hate upending routines and making changes. So I looked up the P.M. on-line and found the “contact us” button. Thought I would be clever and put “mammogram booking” into the search engine. Nothing came up. No one had ever thought anyone would try to book a mammogram at one of Canada’s leading cancer hospitals, I guess. This set me back on my heels.

Also, I remembered the last time I tried to connect with the mammogram department there at the urging of my Toronto family doctor and with a requisition form. Somehow, I got sent to medical records instead, a detour which caused a lot of confusion on my part and the person in patient records since neither of us realized what the other was doing — at least not right away. Once we did, it was smooth sailing to the correct department and an appointment.

But now two years further on, I decided to revert to Plan B — call my current doctor’s nurse at the clinic closer to home. Pleasant conversation. I alluded to the incorrect white form and the need for the prescription form. Did we have fax machine? No, sadly, we did not. I didn’t mention the one we can use at the bank because it is raining and sleeting, and I must admit I didn’t want to go all the way over there in the ghastly weather.

She suggested she’d fax the requisition to the imaging unit at the hospital instead and instructed me to call there in half an hour or so. I waited until after lunch and called. The fax had arrived. I asked if I could come in the same day as the day I am to receive a shot of cortisone in my hip. Yes, I could!

So it’s all set up.

I like my local hospital and my doctor’s nurse — who it turns out is related to one of the men on the team of waterers my husband is on who water the hanging baskets here on Main St. (but, I hasten to add, she didn’t know this when I called her).