Tomorrow morning, a friend will be heading in for a biopsy for calcifications that showed up today on her annual mammogram four years after her original diagnosis - this less than a week after a mutual friend of ours died of brain mets. My mom died of brain mets in 1992. Can't tell you how much I hate cancer today...
Now just think for a moment about all the walks and races that have been held and the silly array of pink products have been sold since my mother's original diagnosis in 1988. Seriously - are we any closer to a cure today than we were 19 years ago?
Enough of the bullshit. Enough of the pink perfumes and the beautification of breast cancer - because it's really far from cute, feminine or pleasing to the olfactory system (and anyone who's ever battled this beast or stood beside someone who has can attest to that). Enough ribbons and batteries and baseball gloves and vacuum cleaners already - a CURE is what we really need.
Sure, BC probably gets more attention and funds than any other cancer, yet mothers, sisters, grandmothers, aunts, friends, neighbors and co-workers die every day from it. There's something wrong with that picture.
And I don't want to hear about how multi-faceted BC is. Yep - there are lots of different types of breast cancers - I get that. But freaking pick one already and start there. I don't understand how difficult that is, I really don't.
So I logged onto Susan G. Komen's site to find out if they could help me understand it a little better. I saw from their little pink pie chart that only 25% of what they take in each year is actually allocated for "research and awards" (the "awards" part is supposed to be to local programs that aim to help women, so even less than that actually ends up in the "research" pot, it seems). But a combined 51% for "education" and "screening"? Important, true - but more important than researching a cure? Hmmmm...
And of course, the survivor in me hears a ticking clock somewhere off in the distance. If I ever have a recurrence or a new primary cancer, will there be much more hope than there is now that a cure will be found before I run out of time and treatment options?
I just wish I had more middle fingers to flip at breast cancer and all the bull that goes along with it. Rest in peace, Elizabeth B.