SIX-WORD MEMOIR: PINKTOBER

I'm bringing back the Six-Word Memoir® challenge! 

Last May, our six word challenge was about cancer in general (see that post here). Many in the blogosphere joined in. Now I'd like to focus on breast cancer and Pinktober. 

So I'm challenging you...

SUGARCOATING CANCER

It's Wordle Wednesday. And it's Pinktober. That means only one thing: It's time to stop sugarcoating cancer. Enough already. Breast cancer ain't pretty and it certainly ain't pink. (Well, I take that back: The only thing pink about breast cancer is our scars.) So rather than telling you how I feel about the deluge of pink that threatens to drown us all this month...

PULLING THE PLUG ON PINK

The general public has finally kicked Komen off their pink pedestal.

Last week, I blogged about the brouhaha brewing in the breast cancer community over the commercialization of Komen. I also mentioned the Canadian documentary about Komen called Pink Ribbons, Inc., that is making its debut today — the same day the pink dust has settled following Komen's Planned Parenthood firestorm. (It also happens to be the one-year anniversary of my bilateral mastectomy, or my "surgiversary," as I like to call it — but I digress.)

That's what I call a tipping point. Because for the first time, everyone everywhere can glimpse a Komen that can no longer hide behind its frilly pink curtains.

As you know, Komen partners with a gazillion companies, lending their name to a ton of products, all sold under the pink umbrella. As a consumer, I buy a yogurt (not organic, BTW) with a pink ribbon on it, thinking I'm doing good — only to later learn I must mail the lid back to the yogurt company before they make a contribution to Komen. The yogurt company makes money off of me, and then donates a few cents of said made money to Komen, getting a tax break in return. Sweet deal all around. The kicker, though: Many companies place a ceiling on how much moola they donate, so even though you buy a "pink" product, no money may go to Komen at all if said company has met its donation quota. That is a bummer.

But don't feel too bad for Komen. They earn mega money regardless, though just $650,000 was earmarked for screening exams for low-income women over at Planned Parenthood. And for that there is an uproar... and political pressure... which caused Komen to cave but then they rescind and say they'll continue to fund some PP breast screening programs (for fear of losing liberal dollars). At least for now. Even though breast cancer is an equal-opportunity employer.

Oy, I have a headache.

I don't know about you, but I think the time has come for the charity that is raking in the biggest bucks (ahem, Komen) to use that fat leather wallet not just for good, but to make good. Finding breast cancer is the first step, but it's not the only step. It's what comes after finding breast cancer that is most troubling. Komen, we really need your money to go all in towards research that figures out why we are getting breast cancer in the first place. Why is it so epidemic? Why is it striking younger and younger women? Why, with all this "awareness," are people still so in the dark about the disease? We also really need your money to find better treatments for those who already have BC (including our metastatic sisters, please; for more on blogger Katherine's opinion on that, see her post here).

What we don't need is more "awareness." We don't need more pink marches with people raising money that goes towards funding more pink marches. We are all too aware, Komen. The awareness baton has been passed. It's time to pull the plug on pink — and get to work.

And on that note, I leave you with an image I captured as I hiked up a new hill this afternoon to celebrate my one-year surgiversary.

I purposefully choose a different path to the top today; I hope Komen does, too. Because actions speak louder than pink.

THE HUNT FOR PINK OCTOBER

Exactly one year ago — October 1, 2010 — I had the mammogram that would alter everything. (It's sort of ironic that I found my cancer during the very month that has been hammered into our heads as the month to get a mammogram. So I guess that's the good news.)

Much has been written about the Hunt for Pink October, and prior to being diagnosed myself, I was blissfully unaware of how breast cancer survivors might feel about all this pinkification. My involvement in the surging sea of pink prior to my diagnosis was one of abject commercialism. In the world of women's consumer magazines (where I used to toil), the pages of each October issue were flush with pink products. We had to create 'thoughtful' stories structured around a breast cancer theme, drum up reasons to buy rose-colored, rhinestone-encrusted compacts, and entice readers to want to do downward dog on a pretty-in-pink yoga mat. It was all part of the job. We were providing a service (albeit a branded one) in which women not afflicted by the disease could in some way show their support (via the "percentage of proceeds donated") for those that were. And we were doing our best to educate the masses about breast cancer with our articles. But let's be honest: Advertisers loved seeing their "pink'd" items showcased on our pages — and that kept the wheels of profitability greased and spinning. 

Did I ever stop to think how "Pinktober" felt to a woman who actually had breast cancer? 

No.

Then I got diagnosed. Now I know. It sucks. Pinktober is just one ginormous reminder that I didn't dodge the bullet. And no pretty-in-pink yoga mat is gonna change my status now. 

(Copyright The Big C and Me)

Speaking of hues, who chose pink as the color of breast cancer anyway? 'cause I think they got it all wrong. Blue — now that's a color any survivor can wrap his or her head around. What BCer doesn't feel blue? Not all the time, of course, but I bet we feel blue more often than we feel pink. Yes? No?

You want to see real breast cancer pink? Check out a sistah post-surgery. No matter the color of our skin, our scars are the same: pink.

My one-year marker is the first of many dates I'll be noting in the coming months. The best place for me to reflect on these types of things is on the trail. We had a little rain today, and storm clouds were still swirling overhead, so after dinner, my husband and I went up into the mountains and were greeted by a rosy sunset of spectacular proportion. 

The Hunt for Pink October? I think I may have found it. In shades of blue — and pink.