My mother is a breast cancer survivor.  I have truly admired her for her courage as she faced the diagnosis.  I am so grateful for the doctors, nurses and staff that treated her with such dignity.  At this time, I am so grateful for the research and technology that has made a breast cancer diagnosis less terrifying than it has to be.  My mother’s breast cancer was diagnosed very early.  It was found in a routine, yearly mammogram.  Because it was found early (it hadn’t spread to the lymph-nodes, yet) she has a 98% survival rate!!!  Hooray for progress. 

Needless to say, when my mother received her diagnosis, my sister and I ran out to “get our mammies grammed!”  They have made great progress with the mammography machines, they are much faster, can show things much more clearly and DO NOT hurt nearly as much.  I just keep telling myself that it is much easier to get a mammogram than have breast cancer!!!!!!!  So, if you are forty or over, or have a history of breast cancer in your family…Women unite and “get your mammies grammed”!!!!

Get your Mammies Grammed!

For years and years they told me,

Be careful of your breasts.

Don’t ever squeeze or bruise them.

And give them monthly tests.

So I heeded all their warnings,

And protected them by law.

Guarded them very carefully,

And I always wore my bra.

After 30 years of astute care,

My gyno, Dr Pruitt,

Said I should get a Mammogram

“OK,” I said, “let’s do it.”

“Stand up here real close” she said,

(She got my boob in line),

“And tell me when it hurts,” she said,

“Ah yes! Right there, that’s fine.”

She stepped upon a pedal,

I could not believe my eyes!

A plastic plate came slamming down,

My hooters in a vise!

My skin was stretched and mangled,

From underneath my chin.

My poor boob was being squashed,

To Swedish Pancake thin.

Excruciating pain I felt,

Within its vise-like grip.

A prisoner in this vicious thing,

My poor defenseless tit!

“Take a deep breath,” she said to me,

Who does she think she’s kidding?!?

My chest is mashed in her machine,

And woozy I am getting.

“There, that’s good,” I heard her say,

(The room was slowly swaying.)

“Now, let’s have a go at the other one.”

“Have mercy,” I was praying.

It squeezed me from both up and down,

It squeezed me from both sides.

I’ll bet SHE’S never had this done,

To HER tender little hides.

Next time that they make me do this,

I will request a blindfold

I have no wish to see again,

My knockers getting steamrolled.

If I had no problem when I came in,

I surely have one now.

If there had been a cyst in there,

It would have gone “ker-pow!”

This machine was created by a man,

Of this, I have no doubt.

I’d like to stick his balls in there,

And, see how THEY come out!