Fred Gwynne. Donna Reed. Steve Jobs. Patrick Swayze. Jack Benny. Michael Landon. Luciano Pavarotti.
What is the link between these celebrities who were all found in a very elementary Google search? The first six listed are survivors of breast cancer while the next group of seven are victims of pancreatic cancer. Interestingly, I couldn't find a list of celebrity breast cancer victims in a search; nor could I find a list of pancreatic cancer survivors.
October is a month when many people try to raise awareness of breast cancer. And quite frankly, I usually can't wait until October is over.
I know that's probably considered heresy. After all, shouldn't we all be in support of Breast Cancer Awareness? Shouldn't we all get our our 'mammies grammied'? Doesn't everyone want to Save the TaTas?Don't we all <3 our boobies? Haven't we all posted a cryptically stupid Facebook status to 'raise awareness'? And don't forget to warn people to check their 'bumps for lumps'!
The answer to the first question is absolutely YES. Breast cancer is real; it demoralizes, disfigures, and even kills women (even though Google seemingly doesn't want to tell you about that). But in answer to the remaining questions, I would answer: don't devalue your awareness of an ugly disease by referring to them as boobies, ta-tas, lumps, hooters, tits, jugs, or any of the other132 slang names found on listaholic.com.
On the radio this morning, the talking heads were discussing a high school cheerleading squad who wanted to "raise awareness" for breast cancer and purchased "Save the TaTas" shirts to wear at their games and/or competitions. The principal said no; these t-shirts are not appropriate for school. I have to agree. By using such a slogan, the girls are buying into the male-dominated stereotype that breasts exist solely for visual or sexual pleasure and not for feeding babies. Cheerleaders elicit enough prurient interest already. Don't give them more to work with. These slogans also feed into the big business model that tries to sell us pink ribbons, pink dog shirts, pink hair products, pink stuffed animals, pink buckets of chicken, pink mixers and more. Where is all that money going, anyway? How much is actually going to help women (or men) who have breast cancer?
Face it, people. Breasts (and the women who wear them) are not a commodity. Breasts are a functional part of our bodies. Just like an arm or a leg, or a lung or a pancreas. I'm all for awareness of breasts, and of breast cancer ... as long as it's for the right reasons. But I'm tired of breast cancer being over-hyped when people are getting diagnosed--and too often dying--every day of plenty of other types of cancer.
I realize that I am very fortunate to not be speaking from firsthand experience in any of this. Maybe I'd feel differently about all this pink-ness if breast cancer had affected me directly. Or maybe not. I hope I don't ever have to find out.
If you or a loved one have had breast cancer, or if you've lost someone to breast cancer, please know that I do not wish to insult you; I am sorry for your heartache. I don't mean to diminish that in any way. But I'm concerned that all the hype and all the pink-ness is somehow taking advantage of the very bitter struggle against cancer and creating yet another profit-making opportunity. And perhaps not one that actually benefits the cancer patients.
If getting involved helps you cope with the fight against cancer, I'm all for it. Many people find some comfort in the Breast Cancer 3-Day, or the Susan G. Komen events, or Relay For Life. Maybe you have a pink ribbon magnet on your vehicle, or a ribbon pin on your lapel, and I respect that as well.
I participated in Relay for Life last summer. There were plenty of pink ribbons there, but there were also purple, and black, and gold, and green and ...you get the picture. I walked that day in honor of a dear friend, who has since lost her battle with pancreatic cancer; in memory of my dad, who died of lung cancer almost 40 years ago; and in honor of my husband, a lung cancer survivor. I also held in thought my friend and cousin, a 15-year breast cancer survivor. My friend who still struggles with periodic concerns over her T-cell counts 10 years after a bout with breast cancer. A friend's son, who was diagnosed with Lymphoma earlier this year.
But you know what? More important than walking, or running, wearing a ribbon, or attending a cocktail reception is being there for the people you love. Feel like you need to do something? Call a friend who is battling cancer. Go and sit with them if you're able to. Bake a cake. Send them a magazine you think they'd like. Take them to treatments if you can. Make a prayer shawl, if that might bring them comfort. Sometimes, doing something tangible is way more important than raising money for a "cause."
The bottom line is this: every kind of cancer is despicable. It doesn't matter if you're famous like Farrah, Gloria, Steve or Luciano. Cancer also affects everyday people named Alma or Tom or David or Rita or Harry or Oliver.
No one deserves that kind of pain. And it sucks, literally and figuratively.
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I've struggled with these words today, writing and re-writing them dozens of times. And I might offend people anyway. That's not my intent. I just want to raise awareness that breast cancer is not the only game on the block. It's important, but it's equally important to understand that many people are struggling with many types of cancer (and other debilitating diseases). Thanks for reading.
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