What Do You Mean There Are OTHER Kinds of Cancer Besides Breast Cancer?!

Or: Shoving Pink Down Your Throat

Yes that title is sarcastic.

The topic I have not seen addressed much in breast cancer and Pink discussions is resentment patients with other types of cancer have towards all things Pink. It is possible it is being discussed and I’m not seeing it, however, given I can barely bring myself to read about this topic much lately. I find I’m unable to read even essays criticizing Pink; I cannot read another list of the outrageous products/corporations aligned with Pink, each pointing out a new lowest of the low in the most absurd use of Pink as marketing tool, most preposterous item turned pink. I can see it for myself on the rare occasions I venture into a store, or if I’m accidentally near a TV, or use the internet—which means seeing the ridiculousness is unavoidable.

I confess that in the past year or two I’ve been so swept up in my own resentment toward Pink that while I was vaguely aware that some patients with other kinds of cancer were also sick of Pink, it is only since maybe September I’ve begun to grasp the depth of the resentment, and yes, I think I even saw near-hatred the other night. It pops up on a variety of social media, and many are just expressions of frustration, questions as to why this or that colored ribbon/cancer doesn’t get as much attention, or exasperated reminders to not forget, well, name any cancer associated with whatever month, I’m afraid to try to list for fear of omission. One painful post from a patient with a gynecological cancer proclaimed October to be the time of year in which every day is devoted to telling the world only one kind of cancer matters. The phrase I see quite a bit from patients with other kinds of cancer is “shoved down our throats” in reference to Pink and pink ribbons.

This is what Pink has come to; some perceive it as edging out absolutely every other disease and cause in an obnoxious way, and one’s perception is his or her reality. It is not exactly clear who these patients hold responsible for all this shoving down of the throat. The pieces I’ve seen and read do not seem to differentiate between products with ribbons on them (the kind that claim to send a few pennies to a charity or the ones that just have a pink ribbon with no such claim), pink parade-like races, or people wearing anything from tiny pink ribbon pins to head to toe pink-logoed ensembles. Perhaps it appears all the same to the very frustrated. Well, one delightfully profane post did flat out accuse some folks of slacktivism in matters of pink clothing and accessory choices.

I highly doubt it was the intention to detract attention from other cancers or issues, but it happened, now what’s to be done about it? Why should these patients with other kinds of cancer—being overwhelmed with their own diagnosis, and underwhelmed with support systems or websites catering to information about other kinds of cancer—make the differentiations mentioned above? Is it fair to expect those who bewilderedly ask, “why does Pink get all the attention?” to seek out the answers that have been written about mostly in breast cancer related articles, such as the lucrativeness of Pink and the juvenile enjoyment society gets from talking about boobies? Is it right for a breast cancer patient to complain about Pink and all the so-called wrong kinds of attention it attracts, when all these other cancers get little to no attention, and want the attention and more importantly, the funding for research that goes with a stupid colored ribbon?

While I may be a jackass, my aim here is NOT be so insufferable as to presume to speak for those with other kinds of cancers. Even if I were to now get another type of cancer, I’ve already had breast cancer, so to society, I am inextricably linked to that damn pink ribbon, no matter how much I scream and stomp on it to reject it. And anyway, I am incapable of speaking for anyone else at all; I’m barely able to speak for myself half the time. But I’m still not always able to shut my mouth.


Since diagnosis I’ve been aware that the cancer center at which I was treated bathed the building in pink light each night in October. It annoyed me before, but this year, reading about all of the throat shoving, I think differently. I do not know why the lights are turned pink this month, there are no signs outside the building proclaiming fundraising goals or awareness slogans. It is a small town cancer center—no research or breakthroughs to benefit all breast cancer patients the world over are going to happen there. I’ve inquired about the reason in my comments to the center I made recently. I do not understand the need for breast cancer awareness…at a cancer center, for crying out loud. A building that exists as a place to treat cancer patients is the epitome of all cancer awareness. Thus, a pink light becomes overkill, a pink light becomes the favoring of patients with breast cancer—their lives? their money?—over all other cancer patients, a pink light becomes the shoving of a cause down many gagging throats.

Perhaps I am the only one of thousands of patients treated at that cancer center that has interpreted the pink light this way. Perhaps others do see it that way and just don’t care, or don’t think it worthwhile to say anything and I’m sure I come off as another “selfish” breast cancer patient biting the hand that feeds. But, unless that light is doing something other than just doing the same old “breast cancer awareness” where awareness is needed least, I cannot help but think it is a bit insensitive to patients with other kinds of cancer. I have a hard time believing I’m the only one thinking this, and maybe my complaint combined with others can get attention and make a change. But I’m a Cancer Curmudgeon, a misanthrope, a socially awkward grouch always saying the wrong thing, so I doubt it. I do not like putting much effort into something that doesn’t produce visible results, which is why I’m so frustrated this year that given all the activity by those criticizing Pink, like that Orenstein article, there has been little to no reduction in Pink silliness (at least in my area). I do not feel good about myself for speaking up; I don’t even know right now what drove me to do it. But I don’t really regret it either, even if it was not my place to say anything.

I wish everyone pushing Pink would become less obtuse about the scorn, frustration, and ill-will it now provokes. Awareness is a two way street, maybe it is time to re-assess this old pink ribbon to see if it really is still working. Some folks are oversaturated with it, and others are still clueless about too many aspects of breast cancer. I’ve written about that before (Failure of Awareness), and maybe will again. I see comments saying something like those complaining about Pink cannot deny how effective it is. Effective at what? The stats as to whether breast cancer incidence and related deaths have been reduced, or increased (some say stats are falsely inflated by classification of DCIS), or remained the same have been covered by others, and I’m not qualified to go into that. But the fact remains people still get breast cancer, I still got it, people still die, and while the treatments, especially Herceptin, developed as a result of Pink dollars and awareness (YES, I GET IT, and I AM grateful) keep me alive, for how long? The same problem is still here, just more people know about it and it is acceptable to talk about it. And they know about it and talk about it to the exclusion of every other cancer.

And what will be the fall-out from the undercurrent of Pink resentment from the patients with other cancers? As much as TV medical talking heads like to point out that heart disease and lung cancer impact more people, breast cancer still occurs in a hell of a lot of people, meaning there are too many potential customers willing to buy treatment and Pink crap for Pink to lose any power. And c’mon, how will our culture ever ignore boobies? So the backlash may not get anywhere, but that does not mean this resentment should be ignored.

Symbols Are Not Solutions Rant 2

Preface: First Ribbon Problems

Rant 1: Make No Mistake About Where I Stand

Author: Cancer Curmudgeon

Oct 2010 diagnosed with Stage 3, HER2+ Breast Cancer. Completed treatment Jan 2012. Waaaaaay over pink. Applying punk rock sensibility to how I do cancer.

17 thoughts on “What Do You Mean There Are OTHER Kinds of Cancer Besides Breast Cancer?!”

    1. Come to think of it, it probably is not an actual bulb but a pink filter of some sort, like red and green ones used for decoration. The spotlights on the building are usually clear, of course. Not sure how much power a simple colored bulb has.


  1. I will be so glad when the 1st November arrives and i do not have to see another post for or against Pink!!!!! I hate Pink because i had Uterine cancer and all i saw was pink… No support group for me. No ” down below” care nurse for me. No pamper package for me. No special water aerobics and exercise class for me.. No multi million dollars being raised for me!!! This is cancer when you are not Pink. So maybe being part of pink does actually bring some help. Trying having cancer with no colour!!! Yes i say role on November i have heard enough!!!!


  2. Great post. I’ve had friends tell me that they hate the ‘pinktober’ world in which we live. I hate pink for what it stands anymore, not the color itself. Pink paraphernalia did nothing to help me survive breast cancer. My treatment after diagnosis was paid for by me – through my health insurance – not through any ‘pink’ organization and my treatment was the same as many women’s for a good number of years, not some newest technique. I’m not bitching about legitimate research, but this pink band wagon kool aid crap has got to stop and people have to put this breast cancer in its proper category – cancer!

    Oh… sorry… here’s your soap box back. 😉


  3. I got a newsletter this week from one of the Pinkies, telling her “forest of readers” (as she calls us on her subscription list) to cherish and care for their breasts just as their mothers’ breasts cared for them.
    How nice for her to live on a planet where every person has a madonna for a mother, is breast fed and her breasts never try to kill her.
    The assumptions abound.


  4. I have felt the resentment, too and I am not going to pretend otherwise or tiptoe around this issue or be nice and tolerant. I am a sarcoma survivor and have had two other more common cancers, thyroid cancer (although a rare, aggressive, cell form of thyroid cancer) and skin cancer. My sarcoma (GIST Sarcoma) does not respond to any traditional chemotherapy and no radiation. I was lucky surgery got it all and it hadn’t spread–that they know of. I was misdiagnosed for literally 5 years, sitting in chemo units receiving 6+ hour iron infusions for horrid anemia & gi bleeding that no one could find the source of, surrounded by cancer patients (probably pink cancer patients) and I had an undiagnosed sarcoma all those years. Patients with my sarcoma have the option of the chemo pill Gleevec which targets cancer cells but it does not shrink or destroy existing tumors. It stabilizes them and keeps them from growing or the cells that will grow into bigger tumors. It has a rapid immunity issue (stops working in short period of time) and can make one very sick, kill your liver and all the other awful stuff chemo drugs do. There are no a couple of other drug options but they’re not any better and most of us are screwed. You can best believe if we sarcoma patients were more, or we had some big foundations raising millions for us, we’d have better treatment options and hopefully a cure. So, yes, it pisses me off to see pink get so much attention to the point of enough already when so many sarcoma patients die, too, and had no effective treatments options. Those of us with little to zero treatment options feel left out and just because our cancers are rare doesn’t make us any less worthy of garnering the compassion, attention, money or obnoxious hoopla that the pink gets. And, we sarcoma patients may be rare, but there’s probably a lot more of us out there, we’re just being misdiagnosed. And, if we have to label each other by color, well, I’m a yellow. Sarcoma = yellow. Yellow sucks.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I always think of MCA of the Beastie Boys–he died of a cancer not usually fatal. I don’t think the low incidence of death matters or lessens the pain for his family, his fans, etc.
      Hell yeah you should be resentful. But also know how many of us find soooo many faults with it. And know BC still kills same number of ppl per year (the percentage rate is down–because better detection tools has falsely inflated the rate of BC incidence). This is part of a larger culture problem.
      I along with my #BreastCancerRealityCheck tweet storm co-conspirators hope to take on some realities of the larger cancer world. Are you on Twitter? Email me (via the contact tab at top of page) if interested.


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