...it's the other.
The girls (my breasteses, not my children) and I are getting a mammogram this afternoon.
Yeah. I'm thirty-nine. No. I've never had one before. ARGH! Who thinks UP this shit, anyway???
Do males have to lay out their boys on a cold metal plate while someone tries to make wine out of their grapes? NO, I tell you!!! NO!!!
Honestly, I could be blowing this out of proportion. *shrug*
Bottom line being that this will happen whether I find it painful or not, more's the pity. And, for the record, I'm hoping for the latter.
But it constantly amazes and appalls me at the amount of testing that needs to be done as we age.
All your innards need to be eyeballed. And your appendages. And then the knees begin to ache. And there's a pinched nerve here or there. Your fingers start to swell. Periods start. Stop. Men can get happy. Then they can't. Hair falls out. Hair grows where it's not supposed to.
I mean...MY GOD!!! When will the madness end???
And, by the way, where can I get off?
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