Bracing for the Impact of Pinktober

It's almost the end of September, can you believe it? I can't. I'm already bracing for impact. This is the time of year I hate most, not the end of September per se, but the beginning of October. Why do I hate October, well, it's because this will be my 10th Pinktober. 

Pinktober is a phrase that was coined when the Susan G. Komen Foundation made pink ribbons their world famous logo. The ribbon was chosen to represent the founder's beloved sister who passed away from breast cancer. I'll have to admit, Pinktober is a cute name for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but I don't like pink. 

When I was a little girl, my Mom wanted to dress me up in frilly pink dresses, but I hated them. I wasn't a girly girl. I was a bonafide tomboy. Pink reminded me of Pepto Bismal and that over the counter medication always made me think of illness. Whenever I had a stomach ache, that was the go to remedy.
To this day, I hate the color of Pepto Bismal. 

I don't know why I have such an aversion to pink. It's probably because, in my mind, pink represents femininity and I've never felt very feminine. 

When most girls my age were watching their bosoms develop into those of young women, I remained flat as a board. When they wanted to play dress up or play with dolls, I wanted to be outside climbing trees. I always felt like there was something wrong with me. I didn't fit the mold of what a little girl should be - all dainty and cute. I was more of a ripped jeans and t shirt kind of girl. I was the one with unkempt hair and dirty under my nails. And speaking of nails, to this day I don't get manicures or pedicures. To me they're a waste of time. 

This past weekend, my husband and I came home from a week long vacation. My son had invited us to join him in the mountains. He has a timeshare in North Carolina and knows how much getting out in nature means to me. We agreed to meet him at work and pick him up so we could travel together. It was going to be a great time of rest and relaxation. We were looking forward to it. 

One day, we decided to go hiking. There were several waterfalls nearby. We loaded up the car and headed out. It was a gloriously beautiful day. The sun was shining and it was a mild 72 degrees. When we got out of the car and headed for the trail, I noticed my son was wearing a t shirt his company designed for breast cancer awareness. Across the back of his shirt was the name of his company, beneath that was an American flag with a bright pink breast cancer ribbon on the far right. Beneath that were the words "What's Important Now." The W, I, and N were also in bright pink. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my son had worn that shirt to let me know he loved and cared about me. It was special to see he and his company wanted to be part of sharing the importance of breast cancer with others. 

Pink breast cancer ribbons are on almost everything now, not just during the month of October, but that's when they're a little more visible. 

I have to say, before my own diagnosis, I rarely paid attention to the pink ribbons. The first year after diagnosis, I wanted everything I saw that had a breast cancer ribbon on it. I purchased hats, t shirts, purses, tennis shoes, you name it, I had it. Now, I don't want a thing with a pink ribbon on it. I guess you could say, after 10 years of being submerged in a sea of pink, I'm over it. At first I swam hard in that sea. A few years later, I relaxed and floated lazily along. Now I'm treading water wondering, if one day, I'll be thrust into the sea of pink again. 

I don't like pink, as previously stated, and I especially don't like pink ribbons. Yes, they are a good thing in many ways - they make people stop and think about breast cancer or perhaps, remind them of someone dear they've loved and lost to the disease. Whatever the case, as I said in an article I wrote back in 2018, "One thing is for sure, that little pink ribbon is a symbol known all over the world. No words need to be spoken. The meaning is clear. Breast cancer can affect men, women, and even children. It touches the lives of all races and religions. Breast cancer is nasty business and changes lives forever. And if we can make sure people understand that, while offering information on prevention and care, then I say, Brace yourself, the tide is rising, the water is gathering at your feet." 

Pink makes you think, especially when it colors that famous ribbon. I pray this year, as you see them pop up, they'll remind you of two things: 

1. The importance of breast self exams and regular mammograms. 

2. Not to forget that breast cancer isn't a respecter of persons. It can strike anywhere, anytime and may affect someone you love.

 

 

October is more than pink ribbons

 The email almost slipped through the cracks of my inbox, but something in the header caught my eye. "You've been invited to attend a virtual walk for breast cancer," it said. Virtual walk, yeah, right. Everything has suddenly turned virtual it seems because of this pandemic. 

The calendar reveals we're almost at the end of September and what I knew was coming arrived a little earlier than last year. My inbox is quickly filling with breast cancer awareness messages in preparation for this October, or should I say "Pinktober?" 

Until I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I'd always thought of October as the month ushering in cooler weather. My family and I would enjoy all things Fall related - hay rides, trips to the mountains, visits to pumpkin farms, mugs of steamy hot cocoa filled with mini-marshmallows. October didn't remind me of breast cancer, that is, until that fateful day in 2014 when I'd heard my doctor dub me a statistic. I was one of the one in in eight diagnosed with cancer. 

My first Pinktober was fun. I embraced it wholeheartedly. I bought into the commercialism of pink ribbons and found myself enveloped in it. It felt good to sport my breast cancer hoodie. It felt like I was part of a special sorority, how naive I was back then. But lots of newbies make the same mistake. It's only natural to be all in, afterall, it makes one feel as if one belongs especially when cancer can make a person feel extremely isolated and alone. 

I'd also participated in a 5K walk for breast cancer. It had been an challenge, in more ways than one. Physically, I fought for each step forward. I'd just completed 28 rounds of radiation and that 3.1 mile walk just about did me in, but I made it and I was extremely proud of myself. 

But the next October that rolled around, I passed up the races. I wasn't as keen to buy pink ribboned products. I'd done some research and had found some organizations didn't allocate funds appropriately. More money was going toward administrative fees than toward breast cancer research and that made me angry. 

Then, I discovered a tell it like it is website called "Think Before You Pink." It presented the harsh reality behind some breast cancer campaigns and organizations. The goal of the site wasn't to demean those companies but to inform the under educated and debunk misinformation. I appreciated their devotion and found the information helpful. 

This October, the big breast cancer awareness push will still be on albeit differently. Because of the Covid 19 pandemic, many cities are opting for virtual walks. Participants can register and keep a record of miles walked then submit their total at the end of the race period to be counted toward fundraising goals. Monetary submissions can be solicited through websites. Contactless collections will help prevent the spread of disease, or so they say. 

While it would be easier to participate in a virtual walk, doing it "my way," I don't think I will and here's why. 

Instead of having friends and family sponsor the number miles I could walk, I'd rather use the money toward helping provide gift cards for meals or other well timed gifts to friends currently fighting their own cancer battles right now.

Forgive me for my negative attitude toward breast cancer walks of any kind - real or virtual. This survivor is over it. October is more than pink ribbons. 

I do appreciate the awareness "Pinktober" brings toward breast cancer but let's get real. The beribboned pink paraphernalia lines many pockets but it doesn't do much for providing new means of fighting cancer. 

Cancer is ugly and trying to tie it up with a pretty pink bow can't change that. 

Those affected by cancer want more. We want answers and we desperately want a cure. 

A virtual walk may prove to be a good thing for those wishing to participate this year. There may even be a few small cities who organize actual walks for mask laden walkers, but I won't be joining either. 

What I will choose to do is make phone calls, write letters, send texts, and make visits expressing my love and concern to those who've just learned about an uncertain future. I'll make myself available and I won't be throwing any pink ribbons around in the process. 

Call me cynical if you must, but I'd rather be truthful about a disease that continues to destroy lives. 

Pink ribbons can't change statistics, but maybe one day something will. 

Dreading October already

We're coming up on the end of August. This year has been flying by. As I look at the calendar, I realize October is just behind September and that means, I only have a little over a month before PINKTOBER begins. For those of you who don't know what PINKTOBER is, it's the month dedicated to breast cancer awareness and just about every and anything you can think of becomes pink.

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I was intrigued by the pinkness of breast cancer. I almost felt like I belonged to a secret sorority. Well meaning friends and family began to inundate me with all sorts of pink things and the infamous pink ribbon became symbolic to me. I was proud to sport anything with the big pink breast cancer ribbon on it. I felt it was my duty, afterall, I had cancer. As time wore on, I began to tire of all the pink and now that it's been a little over two years since I was diagnosed, I honestly hate pink.

I'm already dreading October and it used to be one of my favorite months. It signaled the arrival of the Fall season and all that comes with it. Hayrides, pumpkins, hot apple cider, cooler weather...all those things that make you feel so alive but then PINKTOBER had to come along and ruin it.

Those newly diagnosed with breast cancer may become enamored with pink as they begin their journey with cancer. It's easy to fall into that media trap. Signing up for those Susan G. Komen 5Ks and buying all that breast cancer paraphernalia just kind of seems like the right thing to do but is it really? I did a lot of research at the end of last year and found out not much money raised by those cancer organizations actually go toward cancer research. Most of the money raised goes toward salaries and administrative fees. As my naive little eyes were opened, I got upset. Why was something so traumatic being so commercialized? For those of us who've gone through the struggles breast cancer brings, we know there is nothing fun or light-hearted about cancer. The only thing good that comes from the color pink as it relates to cancer is the recognition it's received. Just about everyone knows pink symbolizes breast cancer.

According to the Susan G. Komen Foundation, " a pink ribbon symbolizes breast cancer awareness.
The merging of ribbon and symbolism in the United States came about in two huge leaps. The first occurred in 1979 when a wife of a hostage who had been taken in Iran was inspired to tie yellow ribbons around the trees in her front yard, signaling her desire to see her husband come home again. Step two occurred 11 years later, when AIDS activists looked at the yellow ribbons that had been resurrected for soldiers fighting the Gulf War and turned the ribbon bright red, looped it, spruced it up and sent it onto the national stage during the Tony awards to represent those affected by AIDS. The stage was set for the evolution of the breast cancer awareness ribbon. Susan G. Komen for the Cure® has used the color pink since its inception in 1982."

I understand the good things Susan G. Komen and other organizations are trying to do by bringing awareness to cancer's horrible and far reaching grasp on women all around the world, but I can't stomach any more pink. It's gone from good to bad to ugly now. There are pink shirts, hats, socks, underwear and even toilet seats.

Not all cancer survivors may feel as opposed to pink as I do to all of these random pink items and the illustrious PINKTOBER. Maybe I've become jaded as I've been plunged into this sea of pink but please (and I'm borrowing this slogan from the website by the same name) think before you pink, people. Not all of us like pink. In fact, some of us hate pink and for good reason.