Recently I went to the doctor to have my annual mammogram. I not only had to endure the receptionist’s hype about women being victimized by men’s inventions, but I was also subjected to her obscene comment that if men’s testicles were placed in the mammogram machine, just once, they would soon come up with something better. I thought I had heard some dumb things in my life, but that topped them all for pure brainless nonsense!
That wasn’t the first time I have had to witness meaningless, eye-popping, salivary accusations, which always leave me wondering about the sanity of people like her. I mean this woman went ballistic! It is all based on the same old worn out, exaggerated theme. And that is: Men cause women’s suffering. Period.
Mammography has been around a long time, and we helpless, tortured but liberated women have yet to liberate ourselves with a mammography system of our own design. So what is the hold up? I don’t enjoy having my breasts squeezed wafer thin. Yet, I would rather endure the discomfort of an x-ray machine than worry about the alternative. Early detection has saved lives.
Now the big bad thing is the brassiere. It is suspected of contributing to breast cancer, according to some “experts.” I read about this recently, and saw graphic horror illustrations of a woman losing her breast to cancer even after having annual mammograms. (Men were once again to blame.) One of the drawings showed a girl strapped into this torture device by her well meaning mom who was brainwashed by men to do it! I said to myself, Did it ever occur to this woman who wrote the article, and was responsible for those biased drawings, that young girls wore training bras to keep clothing from rubbing their tender, growing breasts? Surely this woman went through it herself at a young age, just as I did and my female acquaintances. I got my training bra when I turned 12. My breasts were just beginning to bud and they felt like wounds. That little satin bra that my mother… I mean my brainwashed mother, gave me to wear saved me from having to endure the rasp-like feel of my dress. When I grew up and became a woman I found continuous comfort and protection by my so-called man-made shackle. I wore the bra because I wanted to. Oh yes, I keep forgetting that women have been retarded by men so long we aren’t supposed to be able to think for ourselves. Maybe that is why we haven’t developed a satisfactory mammogram machine.
I remember during the protest era of the 1970s I watched on TV as a gaggle of young girls ripped off their brassieres and burned them before the cameras. These girls were making a statement for women’s suffrage. I wasn’t interested in their so-called suffrage, but I was interested in not having to wear a bra — to save money. The bras I wear are the more expensive kind with underwire support that can hold pounds of massed flesh that sway like ziplock bags full of sand. So I took off my halter and put it away, not burning it like those girls did. On my income they wouldn’t have burned theirs either.
Before the day was over, I was in my harness again. I learned that braless might be fine for some women, but not for a woman such as I. There was the ever-present gravity pull that made my breasts feel like lead weights connected to steel pins on my chest. I need the support of a brassiere, or I will develop bigtime back troubles, premature stretch marks, a bag lady appearance and National Geographic boobs.
When someone makes a statement that women should not wear bras, what am I to do? All I care about is what makes sense. After reading this woman’s article, I did not find one word of sense in it. All it was was more of the same old dead-horse rhetoric and manipulated statistics. Not wear a bra? Come on, get real. I’ve heard that too many times.
These final words I direct to anyone who dares to address the subject of mammograms or brassieres. Please hold the rhetoric and stick to proven facts. Anything else amounts to nothing more than an opinionated story.
About such a yarn, Shakespeare had this to say:
“… it is a tale told by an idiot.
Full of sound and fury — Signifying nothing.”