I am sitting in the clinic, waiting for my turn for fluorography. I have an old man and an old man. There are no women. In the neighboring office, according to the inscription on the door, a mammography is done (that is, a breast X-ray). Aunt approaches there and asks us – who, say, is extreme on mammography. My uncle wasn’t confused:
and ah! I am extreme! I will go to the gynecologist for a while.