It’s that time of year where everything turns to pink and attention turns to breast cancer awareness. Oh, believe me, I am aware every single day of my life and will be for the rest of my life, however long that may be.
Let’s talk statistics for a moment. One in eight. Those are the odds. Now, please don’t think that you’re safe if it doesn’t run in your family. I thought that way. Look at me, I got hit. This month will be a good time to get yourself checked! A few moments of discomfort can literally save your life.
Breast cancer is more than just pink, it’s more than just October and it’s more than just the time period we are in treatment. Pink comes screaming in, ripping out hair out, making us sick as a means to help and then spits us out, back into a world that doesn’t get it like we do. The intent is to get us back to life after cancer but, in today’s world, it’s complicated.
While the color pink and pink washing everything this month may be upsetting for some, it isn’t for me. I am all in favor of drawing attention to something that can save lives. Cancer is an ugly word. Breast cancer is awful too. Pink can be a color of hope. Hope for better treatments, possible cures, early screening. Pink can symbolize the beautiful women who came and went before us and helped advance the science of breast cancer, the pioneers. Pink can be a beacon of light in something so dark and awful. I will wear pink daily this month, in my own effort to encourage women to get checked.
I’m three years out from diagnosis and almost three years out from my double mastectomy. I’m feeling stronger daily, energy is back (for the most part) and I get a few lingering side effects that are my parting gifts from chemo. It’s all good. It’s who I am now and I’m grateful for them, as it means I did all that I could and now hope for best…for all women…
