It can show gentleness and compassion or carelessness and incompetence.
It started, as it does for thousands of women every year, with a routine mammogram, and its routine process of having my breasts — like a lump of dough — manipulated by another woman’s hands and placed, albeit gently, into tight compression.
It’s never comfortable, but you get used to it because you have to.
Read the full article in the New York Times.
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