I figured the title would attract some attention. But this isn’t about sports, this is about breasts.
Her name is Sheyla. She holds the record for the world’s biggest breasts. It was a determined goal. She didn’t go to M cup right away. She had multiple surgeries (32). She had the last one in Brazil. That one took her to the M cup. She has always recovered from her surgeries right away; so on June 15th she had the larger implants. On June 16th, she returned home to Houston. She started feeling ill, and running a low-grade temp.
Two days later she had large brown splotches on her huge breasts.
After locating a doctor who would see her, it was diagnosed that she had a deadly staph infection. She is now on an intravenous high-powered antibiotic she takes every 12 hours, and another IV she takes at night. If she misses one of her IV’s she could be dead by morning.
With a one-year old daughter and an eleven- year old son, she wants to live. Sheyla sees the doctor tomorrow to see if they will have to remove the implants to save her life. The fear of living without her breasts for a year frightens her. That’s how long she will have to wait for another surgery.
Fear- obsession – disatisfaction. What happened to this beautiful – strikingly beautiful - young woman that made her think that life fulfillment is having the world’s biggest breasts? Flawless skin, lovely figure, blonde hair (not natural) and big slightly almond-shaped eyes are not enough.
Her young son is embarassed when they go grocery shopping. She’s not displaying cleavage, but with that size it still causes second looks. He thinks she should be angry and insulted. The truth is, she loves it. There is no mention of her job status or her marital status. But in spite of the dangers, the expense, the fear of her son that she may die, she is still thinking about her big breasts.
If there had never been TV and movies – would she have developed that obsession? If there had never been Playboy or Penthouse, would she even have thought about it? I don’t know. Who the hell decided we should inject or implant things into the human body to make big breasts?
I watched a long interview with this thirty-ish woman and she was smiling all the time, even while she was talking about death. She was smiling, she said, because if she didn’t laugh, she’d be crying. Sheyla admits it was a huge mistake. What does that mean? It means she won’t be having surgery in Brazil again.
I don’t know this woman, but I am deeply saddened for her. There is obviously something horrifically tragic in her background. (Abuse, molestation, insults, badgering, cruel criticism.) Oftentimes words do more damage than physical abuse.
Sheyla’s only worth, in her eyes, is her big breasts. Her only claim to fame (fifteen minutes?) is her breasts, her infected, splotchy, shiny, huge breasts.