I arrived for the echocardiogram early as instructed and making chit-chat with the technician who was warm and pleasant. I removed my shirt and laid down on the table next to the 1994 Packard Bell that ran the diagnostic devices. I made small talk about the requirements to be a technician and my work in medical devices when she suddenly stopped talking when the setup finished booting. Then the technician turned from person to cyborg using the sonogram probe to complete some set of ancient wand-katas that she’d practiced since birth. One could retrace her route based on the friction burns and the molten chest hair despite the sonogram gel. I thought her done when both hand stopped but she started making little circles that widened and narrowed and rotated left and right at speeds that could buff my nipple off like some sort of diagnostic Spirograph. Apparently there was something interesting in my chest and the nipple marked the spot.