October 26, 2010
It is almost over, Pink-tober. The curtain is about to fall on the celebratory Breast Cancer Awareness month. Are you aware now? Women, have you been vigilant and checked each breast before toweling off after a shower? Have you purchased enough pink ribbon-ed products? Small appliances? Cereal? Toilet Paper? Have you bagged enough groceries in pink plastic sacks? The pink circus added a new ring to the big top when October’s first Sunday afternoon gave us
!!!!! Breast Cancer Football !!!!!
The NFL’s hulking young men; their chiseled muscled butts and thighs poured into flashy bright spandex …oh my goodness….sporting hot pink gloves, pink cleats, and perhaps some pink pad lurking beneath that set of oh- so broad shoulder pads. Color me PINK, fellas! I’m not only aware of breast cancer, I have breast cancer! I have the ultimate visitor pass for the locker room! No? Damn.
Sorry, got caught up in my own imaginary pink-dom. I’ve been here before when people want to put my name on their running t-shirts. I admit I get a bit of a thrill when people want to advertise my name as a “survivor”. I have a drawer full of pink hats and shirts supporting this brand. That people run, sing, play and pray to endorse my brand is flattering. However, I did nothing to earn their praise and recognition. I just managed to grow a tumor or two. Now I am the reminder to be “aware”. I am the walking pink ribbon of every woman’s nightmare, breast cancer. I admit that when people speak of my strength, I’m thinking they are just glad they are not me. I’m feeling both admiration and repulsion. Crazy, maybe, but it is how I feel.
I’ve written about this before, about the vast amounts of money that pour into breast cancer “awareness”. The Komen organization has raised millions and millions of dollars for “awareness”. How much money does it take to become “aware”? My cynical self says there won’t be a cure, there is too much money in it. People ask me, “then what should I do?” I tell them to support those that are suffering, both the patients and their families. I go for treatment every three weeks and witness the fear and agony of those deep in the throws of the “cure”. My day is Wednesday. Wednesday happens to be soup day. A troop of women make and deliver soup to the center at lunch time. I love the fact that it is good, healing food, prepared with love and delivered warm and tasty. I appreciate their effort. It lifts the spirits of all that partake; patients, caregivers, and the nursing staff. The place buzzes with recipe ideas, superlatives, and life experiences outside cancer treatment. I’ll take this any day over a two pound bag of pink and white M & M’s.
I’ve found what I believe is a better cause. The group is called Breast Cancer Action. To act seems such a better verb than to be aware, right? Check out their website at http://www.bcaction.org. I’ve only just discovered them, but they seem to be looking at not the cure, but the cause. Makes sense, right? I think so.
Finally, I apologize if I have offended. I know your “pink” intentions are pure, but I am skeptical about the marketing and motives of these mega organizations. Those of you that have held me, listened to me, and loved me through my years of trauma, I love you for what you do and who you are. I love you for what you continue to give me today. You hold a giant piece of my heart.
Come November when pink takes a hike, move out of “awareness” and turn to “action”. Make the first November day and the rest of the days a rainbow of ribbons…or maybe just one golden ribbon. Maybe this ribbon will make us aware of the treasure continually mined from our souls that whispers the compassionate human obligation to act and “love your neighbor as you love yourself.”
It is almost over, Pink-tober. The curtain is about to fall on the celebratory Breast Cancer Awareness month. Are you aware now? Women, have you been vigilant and checked each breast before toweling off after a shower? Have you purchased enough pink ribbon-ed products? Small appliances? Cereal? Toilet Paper? Have you bagged enough groceries in pink plastic sacks? The pink circus added a new ring to the big top when October’s first Sunday afternoon gave us
!!!!! Breast Cancer Football !!!!!
The NFL’s hulking young men; their chiseled muscled butts and thighs poured into flashy bright spandex …oh my goodness….sporting hot pink gloves, pink cleats, and perhaps some pink pad lurking beneath that set of oh- so broad shoulder pads. Color me PINK, fellas! I’m not only aware of breast cancer, I have breast cancer! I have the ultimate visitor pass for the locker room! No? Damn.
Sorry, got caught up in my own imaginary pink-dom. I’ve been here before when people want to put my name on their running t-shirts. I admit I get a bit of a thrill when people want to advertise my name as a “survivor”. I have a drawer full of pink hats and shirts supporting this brand. That people run, sing, play and pray to endorse my brand is flattering. However, I did nothing to earn their praise and recognition. I just managed to grow a tumor or two. Now I am the reminder to be “aware”. I am the walking pink ribbon of every woman’s nightmare, breast cancer. I admit that when people speak of my strength, I’m thinking they are just glad they are not me. I’m feeling both admiration and repulsion. Crazy, maybe, but it is how I feel.
I’ve written about this before, about the vast amounts of money that pour into breast cancer “awareness”. The Komen organization has raised millions and millions of dollars for “awareness”. How much money does it take to become “aware”? My cynical self says there won’t be a cure, there is too much money in it. People ask me, “then what should I do?” I tell them to support those that are suffering, both the patients and their families. I go for treatment every three weeks and witness the fear and agony of those deep in the throws of the “cure”. My day is Wednesday. Wednesday happens to be soup day. A troop of women make and deliver soup to the center at lunch time. I love the fact that it is good, healing food, prepared with love and delivered warm and tasty. I appreciate their effort. It lifts the spirits of all that partake; patients, caregivers, and the nursing staff. The place buzzes with recipe ideas, superlatives, and life experiences outside cancer treatment. I’ll take this any day over a two pound bag of pink and white M & M’s.
I’ve found what I believe is a better cause. The group is called Breast Cancer Action. To act seems such a better verb than to be aware, right? Check out their website at http://www.bcaction.org. I’ve only just discovered them, but they seem to be looking at not the cure, but the cause. Makes sense, right? I think so.
Finally, I apologize if I have offended. I know your “pink” intentions are pure, but I am skeptical about the marketing and motives of these mega organizations. Those of you that have held me, listened to me, and loved me through my years of trauma, I love you for what you do and who you are. I love you for what you continue to give me today. You hold a giant piece of my heart.
Come November when pink takes a hike, move out of “awareness” and turn to “action”. Make the first November day and the rest of the days a rainbow of ribbons…or maybe just one golden ribbon. Maybe this ribbon will make us aware of the treasure continually mined from our souls that whispers the compassionate human obligation to act and “love your neighbor as you love yourself.”
