I’ll start this by telling you that it has a happy ending and there’s nothing to worry about. Suspense is great in novels, but not in real life.

Last week, I found a lump in my breast. (remember, happy ending) Daddi at work, made an appointment for me at Leitarstöð Krabbameinsfélagsins (center for cancer search). So, this post is about the amazing difference between a doctor’s visit in Iceland compared to the U.S.

I came to work for an hour and then headed off for my appointment. Because I hadn’t been there before, and I was nervous, I gave myself too much time to get there. I arrived about fifteen minutes early for my appointment. There were no televisions in the waiting room, but there were magazines, books of short stories and a play area for children. I was expecting to fill out paperwork.

No. They took my kennitala (id number) and asked me to have a seat. I picked up a magazine, and a nurse called my name. Really, that fast. So I followed her back to a changing area. They provide lockers with keys, for personal items, and hospital gowns in spring colors cut like kimonos. I sat down in the little waiting area outside the changing area and immediately the nurse reappeared and asked me to follow her.

I figured that, like the U.S., she was going to park me in an examination room, but instead she took me straight back and did a mammogram. We won’t go into those details because it would frighten the menfolk.

After that, I returned to the smaller waiting room, and after perhaps five minutes, the radiologist came for me and did an ultrasound. It turned out that I was right and there was a small lump, but that it was merely a cyst. She said it was nothing to worry about and that women get these all the time. Whew.

We finished up. I got dressed, and headed back for the reception area. There I encountered the rare Icelander who doesn’t speak English. We managed to handle everything in Icelandic. Fortunately the questions were straightforward ones like “What is your address.” Yay! These Icelandic lessons are paying off.

I took my leave and was back in my car by 11:30. In the U.S. I would have still been in the reception area, trying to ignore a television. What a delightful civilized country.