THE GIRLS

 I love Bette Midler.  I think I would have been friends with her if we had ever met and she hadn't been such a dynamic entertainer.  We are kindred spirits and I LOVE her sense of humor.  Bette, The Devine Ms. M, was the first person I ever heard talk about "The Girls"  We are not talking about her "Tribe" we are talking about her "Girls". Or rather, in this case, My Girls.   

Do you know some women actually give names to their boobs ? That has always cracked me up but I have never gotten that excited about these fixtures that God saw fit to plaster on my chest.  I personally find boobs to be a pain in the back and nothing more. Why men are fixated on them is beyond me, especially as a woman ages.  It's just not pretty !

A little history is in order for you gals out there. And if you are a man reading this I suggest you stop now or your "sexy illusions" of the female body will be destroyed forever. 

I was a LATE LATE "bloomer" if you get my drift.  When I was in eighth grade I was still wearing undershirts, much to my embarrassment in Home Ec class. In eighth grade we made our graduation dresses. (A total disaster in my case. Talk about Janet Jackson and wardrobe malfunctions . . . )  All the girls had to purchase the exact same pattern for a dress. We could choose the fabric and color but the styles were all the same.  We went from opening the package containing the pattern to cutting, assembling  and sewing our dresses. Of course it was necessary to try the dresses on several times in order to get the proper fit. It was at this point that I realized I was a bit different from most/all of the other girls in my class.  They ALL had boobs !!!!  I had nothing !  They were wearing bras, (something that I really had never seen before, thanks mom) and I was wearing little white sleeveless undershirts.  I remember coming home quite upset and begging my mother to buy me "one of those things" so I could be like the other girls. it would be a couple of years until I needed to wear a bra but at this point it was a matter of "fitting" in.

Fast forward to nursing three children and the wicked joke of gravity and here I am left with two large, heavy, blobs of flesh dangling from my chest.  Funny joke God !!!!  If only those girls in home economics class could see me now . . .   they would be laughing all over again but for different reasons.  

Something I can not understand is why a woman would have breast augmentation surgery. I get it when a woman has to have a mastectomy and wants to return to feeling like a woman but to have boobs and want them to be bigger is just plain dumb.  I mean, seriously, WHY would you want watermelons hanging off your chest?  Why not just tie two twenty pound sacks of potatoes around your neck and be done with it?  Big boobs are not pretty and they get in the way of everything. Dresses never fit right because if it fits on your hips its too tight on your boobs and if it fits over your boobs it hangs like a sack over your butt and hips. (Personally I have never had this problem because my ass is as big as my boobs. Nice that I am fat in all the right places but even if I loose weight now it's too late because the fat deposits have been placed in these strategic spots so no matter what I do I've got excess "baggage" hanging on my body.)

All of this became painfully, (literally) evident with my latest surgery.  When one has shoulder surgery you are required to spend several weeks with your arm in a sling. This sling is an instrument of torture not only because of the killer velcro, (as noted in my last blog), but because the design of the sling includes a "Pillow" or "Bumper" that goes between your body and your arm.  This keeps the shoulder at just the proper angle in order for it to heal perfectly. This "bumper" is the size of a Mac truck. Well maybe not quite that big, but it isn't small. It's about 12 inches long and 5 inches wide and high. It is curved so it fits snugly next to your side and wraps around just under your boobs, if you're lucky.

HOWEVER, if your boobs are not "perky" as in my case where gravity has causes the "ice cream" to melt and ooze down my chest, you have a problem.  In my case I have these globs of floppy, fatty tissue squished between me and my sling. The Girls won't stay up long enough to get the sling wedged under them and if I do get them to stay on top of the bumper on the sling they add twenty pounds of weight hanging off my good shoulder which is trying to hold up my surgery arm and my boob!  

Add to that the fact that I now have to go out in public wearing no "Over the shoulder bolder holder". (AKA Bra) because I can't get my arm through the strap of a bra.  I bought various "strapless" bras but that's like holding back Niagara Falls with a tooth pick. The "spillage" is astounding.  So then I tried "bandolier" type bra that I can pull up over my feet, yank up my legs, over my hips and stomach and squish the girls behind the band of stretchy fabric to semi contain them so I don't beat myself to death while walking. The sling does hide much of the swing and sway but it sure isn't pretty!

And so I remain home as much as possible wearing bathing suit tops with a shirt over them so I at least give some illusion of being dressed. Good thing I still can't drive so I'm not tempted to go out in public looking like I do.  

I really think that a pre requisite of shoulder surgery for women like me is a breast reduction so that everything can fit in place during the shoulder recovery.  What would be wonderful is if we could do breast transplants or donors. I'd gladly give up my girls to twenty young women who want more out of life. If I can donate my eyes and other organs why not BOOBS ???