Awareness...I have a lot of mixed feelings about October and breast cancer awareness.
I'm very appreciative for how far we have come in the past decades since women were embarrassed to be diagnosed with breast cancer and spoke of it only in hushed tones with a few trusted people. As awareness grew, somehow breast cancer became the fun and happy kind of cancer, surrounded by a sea of everything pretty, vibrant and pink. Pink shirts, mugs and towels; pink mixed drinks and party wigs; even pink cars, drilling bits, and tools; Go Bra-less Day (every day for me now) and Save Second Base and Save the Ta Ta's Events (I'd prefer to save my life). Entire store displays became devoted to pink and proclaimed "buy this to support breast cancer awareness". Some displays even read "Support Breast Cancer"...hmmm, I'd rather eliminate it than support it personally! Sure, many of these items do indeed to some degree contribute to worthy causes. Many, however, made no claim to donating anything anywhere or actually doing anything other than selling pink stuff.
I distinctly recall someone telling me after I was diagnosed that it was a really good time to be diagnosed with breast cancer with all of the awareness and activities now. I didn't think it was a good time at all to be diagnosed with breast cancer. I wasn't sure why anyone would think any time would be a good time to be diagnosed with any cancer.
As months of chemo passed and October rolled around, I realized some people had come to resent those with breast cancer because it was the "fun one" that got all of the attention, which wasn't "fair" to the other cancers. I wasn't having much fun, and I began to question the purpose of awareness.
Some of my cancer buddies died. That wasn't fun. I'm already aware...I want a cure, I thought. It seemed ironic that so many resented breast cancer for having all the "fun", yet while many with breast cancer do enjoy having some fun, most would prefer a cure over the distraction of all the "fun". A cure requires research. A cure for ALL cancers requires research. That is not to say there can't be fun, but we can't lose sight of the way to a cure.
Stop all of this awareness...I want a cure, I thought. Time went on. I completed 16 rounds of dose-dense chemo, 33 rounds of radiation, and lost track of how many surgeries somewhere after 15. It seemed like every complication or strange side effect was finding me. More friends died. I still have mobility issues and struggle with focus and memory at times. Genomic testing was conducted this summer to help determine whether I should continue treatment or cease when I reach 5 years. The expected test results of my specific tumors were to be low risk of recurrence and either high benefit of continued treatment or low benefit of continued treatment. I was told there was a chance the results could indicate a high risk of recurrence with a high benefit of continued treatment. Nobody told the tumors that was the plan, and the doc hadn't mentioned other possible results. My results came back predicting high risk of recurrence and low benefit of continued treatment....I sure wish I'd have been aware of that possibility. Why don't people understand what breast cancer is really like? Why didn't someone tell me what it would be like?
You know, maybe we really do need awareness. A different kind of awareness. Awareness that people (men and women) get breast cancer even if they live a healthy life, have no family history, do self exams, and get mammograms. Awareness that people die from breast cancer even when diagnosed at an early stage. Awareness that there is no cure for breast cancer. Awareness that it isn't about saving breasts, it is about saving LIVES! Awareness that while support, education, and quality of life are important, research will provide a cure.
Awareness for the diagnosed that while there is support and you can have fun, breast cancer is neither cute nor fun. Awareness that there are options and choices, and that it is OK to ask questions. Awareness that you don't have to wear a wig or get new makeup so you don't make other people uncomfortable. Awareness that reconstruction is not restoration. Awareness that everyone will have advice for you, whether you want it or not. Awareness that at times you will feel you are under a microscope in October.
Awareness that a new normal will come...someday I think! But that the old normal is gone. Awareness that you will meet new friends (and lose touch with others) and learn new things. Awareness that you are stronger than you realize, but that you do not always have to be strong. Awareness that support organizations do play an important role, even if they do not work toward a cure.
Awareness that everyone's journey is unique and that there is no right way to "do" breast cancer...just your way.
Yeah, I guess maybe we do need awareness after all.
