Over pinkification?

I've been thinking for awhile about what I wanted to say about Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I was diagnosed last November so this is my first one as a survivor, which makes it a completely different experience for me. As in, before it wasn't an experience at all. The pink ribbons were just on the edge of my consciousness. Sure, I was "aware" of breast cancer. It existed. I knew about it. But it was something that happened to old ladies, not something I had to worry about. I didn't need to worry about breast self exams. I had ten more years before I had to worry about mammograms.

I knew that pink ribbons equalled breast cancer awareness, but I wasn't at all aware of breast cancer. The treatments, the scars, the constant worry, the fighting for my life... this is what the pink ribbons mean to me now. Pink ribbons accost me wherever I go (my sister says "It looks like pink ribbons threw up all over the grocery store"). I would say they're a constant reminder, but how can you be reminded of something if you never stop thinking about it in the first place? Between my own treatments and checkups, managing after-effects, and volunteering for the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, breast cancer is constantly on my mind. I don't need the pink ribbon products in order to be "aware".

I especially don't need a pink ribbon product that says "5% of the proceeds to benefit breast cancer research...". The $4 is better spent being donated directly to a charity than to buy a product from a company that disguises their greed under the premise of being charitable. They use the pink as another marketing ploy. It makes sense, too. One in eight women will develop breast cancer in their lifetime and with all-time high survival rates, there are a lot of survivors walking around out there. Not to mention all the survivors' friends, family, co-workers, etc. who just want to show support. "Buy our $4 cereal and 4 cents will be donated to breast cancer research...". No thanks. I'll buy the generic and donate the dollar I save.

"So what, then, can I do to make people aware?". I'm very glad you asked that. I personally raise awareness by blogging, twittering, facebooking, and everything short of shouting my story from the top of a mountain (but only due to the distinct lack of mountains in Florida). "But Cristal, I don't have an inspiring story like yours to share." Yes, thank goodness for that! You can still get educated and spread the word. Breast self-exams: Do them and know what is normal for you. Get your mammograms after 40. Know your family history and know your risk. Boom, I just dropped an awareness bomb on you.

Growing older (but not up!)

I'm celebrating my 29th birthday today! Most people lament getting older but, as we all know, I'm not most people. I'm one of the rare people who don't mind growing older, in fact I celebrate it! It's much better than the alternative! As I think back on my 28th year, it's amazing how much I've been through. I'm amazed that I haven't broken down or freaked out and not ever once given up.

So this year, these are the five presents I'm going to give myself that will give me joy:
1) Love everyone in my world. Let them know I love them. Let them know why I love them.
2) Cross items off my bucket list, then immediately add more.
3) Appreciate the beauty everywhere.
4) Give myself a break!
5) Stop feeding my body junk and get back to exercising.

Keep on moving

Do you know what sucks? Moving.

Do you know what sucks more than that? Moving one week after you've finished radiation treatments and are still fatigued.

Do you know what sucks more than that? Moving one week after you've finished radiation treatments and are still fatigued and after you've had a bi-lateral mastectomy with expanders making it extremely difficult to even lift boxes.

Do you know what doesn't suck? My friends. They helped me move. :)

Feel Your Boobs People

I was on facebook last night cruising through brilliant comments from the elite thinkers of our generation and I came across this gem. Someone had commented that breast self exams are useless, they heard about it on Dateline. My first reaction: Are you kidding me?

Voila, the article:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25679831

"..a new analysis confirming that the breast self-exam (or BSE) truly doesn’t make much of a difference after all."

Ok, time for the second response: Are you kidding me??

Women in their 20s and 30s rarely get breast cancer,” he says. “But they do have a lot more benign lumps and bumps. It’s not worth emphasizing breast self-exams for women at this age.”

True, I just yesterday had a discussion with my oncology nurse about this same topic. Breasts are dense and fibrous at younger age, and they tend to un-dense with age. This means that mammograms are more effective for women in their 50s than in their 20s. The picture is just too dense for younger women. It's like trying to see a polar bear in a snowstorm at the north pole or chilling on a grassy football field at halftime. Plus in young women there are all sorts of things that cause lumps. Heck, I'm sure just thinking about lumps causes lumps.

It's this exact thinking, however, that almost got me in hot water. I found a lump, went to my OB/GYN and he dismissed it as excessive caffeine intake. Now, to be fair, 9 times out of 10 (or maybe 99 times out of 100) that is the case. For me, it wasn't. The important thing is to know what's normal for you and elevate concern if you start to see other signs. For me in addition to finding a lump I had itching, pain, a red spot, the breast was swollen, and my nipple was flattened. Now, my OB/GYN still didn't think that it was a concern, but luckily I am a persistant pain in the butt and was referred to a surgeon sent directly from the heavens to save me so I was able to catch it (even though it was advanced, it wasn't too late to treat).

So feel your boobs my friends, or I'm coming over there to feel them for you. And, most importantly, educate yourself. Know your risk, know what's normal or abnormal for you, know the warning signs. And don't be afraid to be a persistant pain in the butt if you know something's wrong. I'll back you up.