The Mammogram Blues

Suspended animation:  what women feel the week before, and every moment leading up to-the dreaded annual mammogram.  My Lord!  I’d like to meet the son of a bitch who invented these machines-not that I’m not thankful for early detection.  Here’s my question to the AMA:  why must a woman go through this unholy torture chamber each and every year, when we know DAMN well you have a thing called ultrasounds?

Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my tits?

I am in no way trying to frighten anyone out of getting this procedure.  Some women feel nothing at all, but then we have the group of flat chesters like myself.  Mother of God it hurts.  It is the equivalent of trying to squeeze more juice from the lemon you threw out last week.  And the bitch maneuvering the equipment always finds a reason to squish my breasts to smithereens.

“Oh, honey, we didn’t get enough last time, let me just adjust your breast, whoops!  Just pushed your mammary glands up through your anal cavity!  Lololol”

Excuse me, but why is this even a “thing?”

I was wondering what would happen if I went postal on this hooligan, like, what could they do to me, right?  Some women faint, others scream at the top of their lungs (really, totally uncalled for ladies) and some women beat the living shit out of the radiographers.

Simple, really.

 

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