Guys, I’ve no doubt that your search engines directed you here and you had high hopes, but move along. There’s nothing to see. This is going to be a frank and unsexual discussion about living with the human mammary gland.
Ladies, we all know that the day to day possession of breasts is not particularly glamorous. They’re there. They make your seatbelt choke your neck. They are often elbowed in elevators. They cause you to lose eye contact with tactless men. And there’s a reason that models tend to have flat chests. Most clothes just do not look good with too much topography.
And I have a theory that the mammogram was invented by a man to torture women. This very necessary test is an unpleasant inconvenience at best, and excruciatingly painful at worst. But it has to be done, because if you think mammograms are bad, try breast cancer some time.
And if you are like me and are overly well endowed, you are the envy of all your flat-chested female friends. I want to shake them. Do you really envy back, neck and shoulder pain, sagging in your later years, having to special order your bras and pay $50.00 for each one? Do you really wish you were constantly sexualized and stared at even on days when you’re not in the mood for it? If I could yank these things off and give them to you, I gladly would.
And before you get breast enhancements, please, please, PLEASE do your homework. Read up on all the horrific health implications, dangers, and complaints. Anyone who tries to tell you this is not a major, life changing surgery is delusional. And any man who tells you he will prefer you with these masses of foreign material in your chest clearly doesn’t love you for who you are, and no amount of silicone is going to change that.
This is one occasion when I’m not including a photo with my blog entry, because all those people whose search engines directed them here for all the wrong reasons do not deserve a cookie.
The View from a Drawbridge 
When I was young, A Doctor told me that my Grandmother must have been fortunate to have small breast in her day. I asked her what he meant, and she said it would have been true, but she was large breasted and in the 20’s it was gross. So she would wrap her breast as close to her body as she could with gauze strips ( like Ace bandages) before she went anywhere. How tortureous that must have been, hust to make herself easy on men’s eyes. I being very small in the 60’s was not even glanced upon, due to the Starlets of the time. Jayne Mansfield, Marilyn, Elke Sommers etc. Years later with four children and middle age weight gain my breast Blossomed and got in the way of just about everything, Now at 70 they sag and there is not a “over the shoulder boulder holder” that could lift these babies up high enough to draw attention.
Still, I am fortunate that there have been not problems with these blobs, they have nurtured four amazing children and I try and take care of them every couple of years, with a mammogram,
Bravo to you for reminding us to put it on our calendars.
Yes, I’d have been extremely out of fashion in the 1920’s. The torture we women put ourselves through just to pass muster!
I’ve had to have mammograms annually since I was 19. My mother had breast cancer, my sister died of it, all my aunts had it, some surviving, some not, and even a maternal uncle had it. It is the scary flaw that runs throughout my family tree. I recommend every woman get tested. Knowledge is power.
I still think you could have made your case even stronger with pictures… lots of pictures…
Tsk, tsk.
I know…