And creepiest of all: Mammograms sometimes squish existing tumors and spread those cancerous cells even farther. Genius!
Two years ago, I submitted to my first, and likely my last, mammogram. I doubt the device’s design has evolved since its invention in 1969, because its vintage is obvious: The machine was clearly dreamed up by Russ Meyer, with input from a National Geographic photographer—and definitely none from a Frenchman. We managed to squeeze only a smidgen of my quite respectable 34Cs into the glass Panini-maker-like contraption. How my flat-chested sisters are supposed to benefit, I couldn’t tell you.
Alas, my original last paragraph was apparently deemed to crude to survive:
I give the Amish a hard time, but at least they raise barns, not awareness. Both of which, interestingly enough, are full of shit. But only one is supposed to be.