I will start with - no cancer, no worries, nothing to be alarmed about.
Mammograms aren't as bad as you have heard. I guess for some people they might have a bad tech, or they might be more sensitive than others, but, really, I wouldn't trade a prostate exam for it.
Diagnostic mammograms with increased view angles and magnification aren't pleasant. More squishing, lots of pressure and uncomfortable positions, and, more handling of the fun bags by a total stranger. Still, there is no lube or invasive phalange action happening.
Both of the above involve COLD machinery. Really, how hard would it be to make it warm?
Breast ultrasound is offensive, as it is generally used as a follow up, add-on measure to mammograms but has little to no discomfort. Ultrasound is equal to one of those rolling massage things - couldn't we start with that instead of the smash-o-rama?
Stereoactic biopsies aren't fun. It is reassuring to know that there is three-dimensional imaging and a computer guiding the needle on where to go for the tissue sample, but laying face down on a table hoisted up in the air, with a breast hanging through a hole and put in a vise grip while the computer guides the needle to suspicious tissue is a little humiliating and uncomfortable.
I ended up with one impressively purple and green boob. I mean, Wow. That was a bruise worth showing off, but my co-workers acted like they didn't really want to see it. The other one bled out about a gallon while I slept the first night. It looked like a murder scene the next morning. No bruise, though, so that is a bonus.
A week or so later and I am down to one little band aid, which covers the sore caused by a reaction to a latex bandage. The only band aids in my medicine cabinet that are completely latex free are Duck Dynasty novelty ones, so Uncle Si got to second base.
Not looking forward to starting this process again in six months, but better safe than sorry.