Get There Faster!

TV Re-Runs: Part II – “Friends”

A/N: This is the sequel to the previous post and was supposed to appear a couple days ago. But…I got a nasty head cold in between and am still a little out of it. So, that is why it seems late.

Tired of Pink pushers acting out the SNL “Mr. Short-Term Memory” sketch, I change the channel to another TV re-run: the ever popular, always-on show, mammography. What real TV show seems to always be on some channel? “Friends”! Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Yes, I’m referring to another popular syndicated sitcom. I’m happy both are often on, I like them very much. I cannot say the same for the constant mammogram debate always in re-runs.

I always have a difficult time when the mammography and over-diagnosis debate rears its ugly head. I was under-diagnosed. I received a false negative for my very first mammogram at age 38, which I requested because my 48 year old aunt had just been diagnosed. About five weeks later I was falling down the cancer rabbit hole with a 5×6.6 cm tumor. I’m left distrustful and bitter on the subject. I find it difficult to think about.

So when mammography gets discussed on a wide scale as it has been recently, I lose my temper quickly. The same old nuggets pop out: it is not a 100% accurate method of screening, it results in over-diagnosis and over-treatment, it makes no difference in mortality, blah, blah, blah. Then the articles written about a report pick it apart with paragraphs of numbers and what they mean, to show why the report is to be believed…or not. And so readers have to be wary and recognize that all that is written comes with biases, and as one article implied, some minds will never be changed.

source publicsq.tumblr
source publicsq.tumblr

My emotions make me just register white noise, so the science and evidence is difficult for me. It all sounds the same, and I think, wasn’t this just discussed? One recent article I started to read kind of had the same been there, heard that attitude, pointing out this controversy rises every few years. I was thinking it more frequent—like just last summer? But I think that controversy was removing the word carcinoma, reclassifying screening results—those things that may or may not turn into cancer. There is a real problem with over-diagnosis, I get that. I also get that last summer’s fuss was more about semantics and classification. But, mammography (and other screening methods, for other cancers as well) is still to blame in the matter, because that is how the may-or-may-not-be cancer results are discovered. So in my mind it is just part of the same old mammography story.

chandler

This is when I change the TV channel from SNL re-run to a re-run of the sitcom “Friends”. Remember loveable, cute, not-so-smart Joey Tribianni? He was always a few steps behind Chandler, Ross, Rachel, Monica, and Phoebe. Everyone else would “get” a joke or a point, and have to wait for poor old Joey to catch up. Late in the series’ run, there is a great episode in which Chandler and Joey are in the apartment belonging to Monica’s ex, Richard (sadly Tom Selleck is not in this episode). They find tapes, presumably sex tapes, labeled with female names. They find one labeled Monica. Chandler is instantly mortified, but Joey, well, he takes a bit longer to connect the dots. After waiting a beat, Chandler finally yells what viewers had thought for years: “get there faster!”

“Get there faster” is what I want to scream at researchers and reporters regarding this. Or maybe I wanna yell “get there faster” to everyone because I know the people involved in the endless studies done on effectiveness of mammography have nothing to do with other aspects of cancer—like why it happens, what to do about it, how to make not happen at all. As for those mammograms that find things that never turn into cancer? I guess the people crunching the numbers aren’t involved with solving that problem. I’m left thinking no one is even trying to find that solution. I’m sure it is being researched, it’s just the way that tidbit is mentioned as just one or two lines every time I hear this story, I’m starting to wonder why it isn’t THE story. I’ve read of a similar issue in testing for thyroid cancer. Seems to me determining if something is or is not cancer before treating is certainly a “get there faster” kind of problem.

I know how unfair I’m being with my frustration. I know demanding a solution RIGHT NOW is pointless.

Discoveries and breakthroughs don’t just happen on demand, or just because enough money is thrown at the process. I guess I’m just tired of this particular story grabbing headlines every few months or years…I really cannot tell how frequent it is anymore because I’m just so tired of it. Just like some TV re-runs.

I know other work is being done, in fact I recently saw interesting pieces about treating/preventing recurrence in the area of HER2+, very relevant to me. But that was certainly not broadcast in the mainstream media, as was the case with this mammogram study. Mammography always grabs headlines because it is the only thing the general, non-cancer public knows. Guess that is what happens when something is oversold.

And I know researchers work hard, and cannot think about the individual cancer patients, or potential patients, as they execute tests, analyze data, and all that.

But here’s the thing: I am one of those individual patients and as much as I try to see the big picture, some days I can’t. Some days I can only view everything through the lens of my own experience. So here is my view.

It’s true mammography did not work for this patient, diagnosed under the age of 40. It’s true I’m bitter about that. It’s true that this bitterness is a tiny part of my resentment toward the Pink message (but there are soooo many more things wrong with Pink, just dig around this blog). It is true I am NOT on the “a mammogram saved my life” bandwagon. Rather, I tend to snort each time I get a letter of “no cancer present” after my bi-annual scans: “yeah, heard THAT before.” So there is my bias.

But when the number crunchers start talking about how screening just finds disease earlier and does not change how long a person lives, the person is just sick for a longer portion of life, it is hard to hear. Even though it totally makes sense, it just seems such a hopeless statement to me. I don’t know why.

It is hard to hear these reports without a suggestion for a better method to replace mammograms. I know there are other screening methods debated in health media, but are they affordable and covered by insurance, available to even poor women, myself included? Regarding those options, if they are effective that is, I say get there faster.

While the two incidents have nothing to do with each other, it is difficult to put up with yet another onslaught of Pink rah-rah, this time in the form of the Kohl’s & Komen campaign, right after the latest repeat of another mammograms-aren’t-all-that story. Both just remind me that everything still seems to be in the same stagnate place as it has been for years. I had cancer, there is no news telling me of a reduced chance I’ll get it again. All will remain as it was before. I wonder if there even will be any changes in my lifetime. I don’t want to have cancer again. I don’t want to keep having the same Pink conversation over and over. Everything is just too slow. I want to change the channel from the cable networks that just show re-runs in syndication. I want the current season, but it does not exist.

All these years and it all sounds the same. GET THERE FASTER.

Oh I’m Sorry, Is MY Life-Threatening Cancer Making YOU Uncomfortable?

There have a been a few times comments on my posts have made me think and made me want to expand on the idea into another post. I try to respond to all comments as best I can, and the discussions can be quite good. But I think maybe some folks don’t read the comments sections on blogs, which is a shame; I’ve found some of the best ideas, thoughts, and conversations in comments not only  on my blog but others. So sometimes it is a good idea to write a brand new post. I just haven’t done it before because of time constraints or I was on to some other topic, or I was just being lazy.

Swoosieque just made a comment on my previous post that made me think of an idea that is a small part of one of my motivations for blogging. This one motivation—among a few others very important to me—is to challenge the status quo of cancer culture and conversations. (Pssst, for those new to my blog, I don’t like Pink and all that rah-rah that goes with it, and I’m alone and surrounded by it in my rural area, so online, this blog, is a great way to rebel when smacking my head against the wall in dealing with people in real life gets to be too much.)

The previous post addresses one of the dumbass things people say to cancer patients. As I mentioned in that post, I’m not really interested in that topic anymore; I guess it just doesn’t bother me as much because there are so many other irritating aspects of cancer culture. But Swoosieque’s comment made me realize that maybe the dumbass things people say is a small part of the bigger picture, so I’ll address that big picture using the example of these dumbass things.

Swoosieque talked about (seriously, click over there and read our discussion) how she too was uncomfortable and did not know what to say to a person with cancer 27 years ago. Her larger point is about how, until she got cancer her own self, she just did not know what to say to cancer patients. I KNOW I’ve said dumb, maybe offensive, things to cancer patients my own self too, before I got cancer, and I wrote about it.

But that’s not really what I want to talk about. She pointed out that back then, cancer was not spoken of. That got me thinking. She is right, one of the points I hear in cancer conversations is that the taboos around cancer, especially regarding breast cancer, are now broken. We have indeed, as a society, come a long way.

But we have not come far enough.

I truly dislike it when anyone uses the argument or example of how “breast cancer used to never be spoken of, and look at it now”. Folks will point to all the damn Pink as evidence of how far we’ve come. While I dislike Brinker (and Komen and Pink), I agree with the sentiment behind a statement she once made, something along the lines of until breast cancer is eradicated, there is not enough Pink.

Well, I’ve had enough Pink thanks very much, (and I capitalize Pink to include the ribbons and all the party culture and whatnot it represents which I so dislike), but she is right—the conversation and research cannot stop just because we’ve come this far. Just because everyone is so “aware” of breast cancer (don’t even get me started on that topic today), what, we’re all done, problem solved? Excuse me, I still got breast cancer and am likely to get it again—problem NOT solved. While it may be impossible to cure cancer, at least any time soon, that does NOT mean attempts to do so, or at least to prolong life, improve effectiveness of treatment, make treatment less miserable, and so on, should just cease because, hey, look how far we’ve come!

I am of the same opinion regarding the dumbass things people say to cancer patients and the dumbass things they want to hear from cancer patients. Sure, cancer, breast cancer especially, is an acceptable topic even in TV shows now and maybe it wasn’t 20 years ago—but c’mon—that was 20 years ago! Society still cannot seem to get past a few tired old clichés. And I don’t know about others, but I heard the same cliché repeatedly over my treatment timeline, from people I barely knew AND from family members, multiple times from the same people, which kind of made me think everyone was being insincere. But I am sure they were being sincere. What I think is more likely is that while cancer is no longer taboo, it does not mean everyone is all that comfortable with it either. If they were, maybe we could get real and honest, and there would be no need for blogs, essays, and books about all the dumbass things people say. Because real conversations would be taking place, not trite phrases gently spoken to cancer patients so often that we can actually make a list of them (no I don’t have a list, I lost interest, do an internet search for the aforementioned blogs, essays, and books).

I remember once reading in a comments section (see what I mean that the best stuff is in comments?) of an essay that us cancer patients should not be so harsh towards our friends and others, because they too are new at dealing with it. I’ve addressed this before. And I get it, like I said above, I was one of those idiots who did not know what to say and got a harsh lesson by getting cancer my own self. This is one reason I’m driven to talk and write about it. The only way to get past this uncomfortableness is to start a conversation about it. The essay in question addressed how long cancer treatment takes (months!), and how friends and others tend to fall away because they, especially younger people, do not understand or have no experience with serious, long-lasting illnesses such as cancer. The essay introduced the topic, maybe the writer hoped to have a conversation that resulted in change, but that didn’t happen.  Instead of listening, some commenters got defensive. Yes, like I said, I was such an idiot once, so I will try not to be too harsh when I say that I can only understand the “I don’t know what to say” predicament so far. Yes it is hard to know what to say, how to act, but cancer is harder. I want to scream at the commenter, “Oh I’m sorry, is MY life-threatening cancer making YOU uncomfortable?” How can we ever get over this discomfort unless it is confronted?

I’m tired of the “well at least we’re talking about it” and the “treatments are much better now than they were” excuses. I’ve said many times and I will say it a million times more, I AM grateful for all the funding and awareness and so forth that kept me from dying because I was lucky enough to get cancer now, not 30 years ago. But my cancer experience was hardly cushy, and just because we’ve come this far, we should NOT stop. I want more and better (see my About page).

moar-cat

Remember how awesome TV dinners were—pop them in the oven for 45 minutes, go do something else while it cooks and presto! Dinner is served with little effort. Then along came microwaves. I bet women thought those hand operated washboard things were waaaay better than washing clothes in the river, and now we’ve got washing MACHINES. Whoa! Yes, I’m being absurd, but to make a point. There is always a better way and being satisfied with the status quo just leaves everyone in a rut. I want out of the rut.

Science IS still working on “better” for cancer care, why does society and culture lag behind? Sure, sure progress in culture may be objectionable to some. Thirty years ago Madonna was lewd at the VMAs and now we got Miley making Madonna look tame. Some would say that kind of cultural progression is not so good. I don’t care about that. I do care about bringing some honesty into the societal conversations around cancer, breaking out of the mold of overused clichés, only spewing positive, “inspirational” crap, and the idea that Pink is effective. I will continue to push to get real.

So dear Swoosieque, I thank you for making me think—I bet this did NOT go where you thought it would! Does not have much to do with what we were talking about, I guess, but good all the same. You inspired me to think differently about and address something that bothered me that until you came along, I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I think I said somewhere in our chat I’d write a short post. HA! Like I could ever do that. I remain, as ever, yours truly, the very long-winded, Cancer Curmudgeon.

I’m In Love With That Song

“I’m in love with that song.” –from “Alex Chilton”, The Replacements, lyrics by Paul Westerberg

I have been feeling utterly defeated by all the Pink this October, despite my earlier claim to Take October Back.  But a very welcome distraction arrived for me last week in the form of the 16 nominees for induction into 2014’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

I pause here to acknowledge the absolute lameness of a former punk-alterna-girl being so invested in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Rock in general is about rebellion, and the Hall of Fame is an institution, the sort of which rock should rebel against. And even if rock became “respectable” somewhere along the way, then things like early and classic rock belong in there, but the punks that came along later to rebel against the established stuff, and then the post-punks after that, I mean, wouldn’t they rebel against that former rebellion-turned-new institution/establishment? See the Sex Pistols’ infamous rejection of their induction in 2006.  Even worse, I have to pause and acknowledge that in the past few years I’ve seen a few of the bands that provided the soundtrack of my teen years creep in, which just really means, I’m getting old.

Yeah, yeah, this is a cancer blog, and that will come into play much later in this post. This blog is an indulgence for me; my view on cancer, my personal experience with it, and how I (don’t) function in an American social culture that surrounds cancer, which I find mostly distasteful. So I’m indulgently rambling about music, because it was the one respite I had once I found myself a bit lost upon exiting the treatment treadmill (“you’re all better now, see you in 6 months!”, ha ha). Proof of my allegiance to my method of beating cancer blues is everywhere; in the post Punk Rock (Breast) Cancer, my tattoo (Red Hot Chili Peppers, Hall of Fame inductees in 2012), hell even my gravatar (The Ramones, Hall of Fame inductees in 2002).

I skip over the crap like “rap doesn’t belong” (yes it does, and I’d argue that until I’m blue in the face, and even if I lost the argument, I’d still argue it), “Yes/KISS should’ve been in there loooooong ago”, or “the world is doomed because more people like Nirvana than Link Wray”. Yada, yada, yada. I love watching the arguments unfold on various websites, and agree and disagree with so much of it. “We all come from the damn blues,” said Chuck D. (Public Enemy) in his acceptance speech last year. That should be made into a sign and posted above the door to the museum in Cleveland, or maybe noted in every article about this comparatively (to cancer, for me) silly topic, to remind everyone with an opinion how the whole mess called rock and roll got started.

My humble opinion is any person or band that is inducted, or heck even nominated, including the 16 this year, deserves to be there. I do have my favorites however, and this year I’m voting every day for Nirvana, The Replacements, N.W.A., LL Cool J, and the fifth option is a wild card for me every time. I could write forever extolling the qualities of my choices, but it is the first two I’ve listed that matter most to me now.

As a lonely punk-goth girl (weirdo) growing up in the 80s (remember in the 80s, there was no interwebs, so radio and magazines were the only exposure to music available) I hated what was on the radio; I lived in a rural area where there were no alternative stations—D.C.’s WHFS was an hour out of range. I loved the left of the dial stuff like The Cure (nominated once), The Pixies (never nominated, an outrage) and R.E.M. (inducted in 2007 and yeah, gonna be a snob and reveal I was fan well before they got played on regular radio, and got all famous). I used to stay up for those one or two hour programs of “college rock” on the radio or “120 Minutes” on MTV just so I could hear stuff to my liking. It was on one of these programs I first heard Nirvana’s  “Smells Like Teen Spirit”.

People always like to talk about where they were when they heard the bad news of some horrible event, and lots of cancer patients remember all too well, and have written about, where, how, and when they first heard of their diagnosis. My own memory of that, still so sharp, I’d like to erase. But I always want to remember the feelings and thoughts when I heard first heard “Smells Like Teen Spirit”. I was beginning my junior year of college, tired from working my ass off all summer to pay for the privilege of extended education, but still unsure about my future (well, that turned out unexpected, what with all the cancer). I heard that song and knew it would change everything.

Reams have been written about the influence of Nirvana in rock music. To me it was much simpler: the weirdos won. Finally, I could hear music I liked on the radio—which was great because my car’s tape player was forever breaking. With the nomination and almost assured induction of Nirvana, the weirdos win again. And I cannot let this year or this post pass without expressing shock and joy at the nomination of The Replacements. Of all the precursor bands to the so-called alternative music revolution that happened after Nirvana got famous, those bands that faded back into obscurity after it was so quickly over, I thought that only Sonic Youth would get any eventual recognition, and I still find their lack of nomination scandalous. So I view this nomination of The Replacements as nothing short of triumph, even though I am sure lots of people heard their name last week and said, “who the hell is that?”

But here is the funny thing. I know it matters a great deal to me, but not much to most people.  All summer, I’ve worn my Nirvana t-shirt with the smiley face logo (see banner) on the front and the less offensive claim on the back that the band is “flower sniffin’, kitty pettin’, baby kissin’, corporate rock whores” (the other version is worse, look it up).  People I interact with saw my t-shirt front and asked about Buddhism!  Here’s this band that is still a great favorite of mine, that had this tremendous influence on my young 20 year old self, and on the music industry, and no one seems to know who they are/were anymore. Because I immerse myself in entertainment media, I’ve been barraged with details of the 22nd anniversary of the release of their album “Nevermind”, the 20th anniversary re-release of “In Utero”. I get a skewed view of the world, I think they mattered greatly.  And yet, I constantly interact with people who do not even remember them.

It mirrors how I experience cancer at times. As a breast cancer patient with a tiny blog, who tends to seek out info that reaffirms a notion that Pink is WRONG, I sometimes get the sense that Pink, ribbons, and cancer are bigger issues than they are to most people. I have to remind myself that most people are not as tuned in to the issues, the lies of Pink and that is why they ignorantly continue to buy into it. I have to calm myself down—most people do not deal with breast cancer every day and do not know or understand that some breast cancer patients hate Pink. I wanna scream, “why don’t they get it, there are a million articles about how pinkwashing is damaging.” Well, because not many seek out that info.

Sure, lots of people are “touched” by cancer via friends and relatives, but it is only a small (hopefully growing) segment of breast cancer patients that have done the homework behind what is really happening behind the Pink-party-charity explosion. Just like most people are aware of a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but maybe, to paraphrase Nirvana’s “In Bloom”, likes the pretty songs, likes to sing along, but don’t know what it means.

To avoid being strangled by pink ribbons and all the surrounding bullshit, I’ve reveled in the news of the nominations. For the past several days I don’t think I’ve played a song on my phone that was not a Replacements song—yikes, better mix it up with songs by the other nominees! I’ll listen to “In Utero” for the millionth time, I’ll vote (maybe pointlessly) for my favorites on the Rock Hall website for the next several weeks; it is a great diversion. And when Nirvana’s living members accept their induction next April, I’ll try to remember that every once in a while, the outsider voice becomes the mainstream, and I’ll hope that the small segment pointing out all that is wrong with Pink can capture the attention of the world, without smashing any guitars.

“To truly love some silly piece of music, or some band, so much that it hurts” from  “Almost Famous”, film by Cameron Crowe, 2000

How About a “What Cancer Really Does to Breasts Day”?

I wasn’t going to write about No Bra Day, because 1) so many other blogs I read have said most of what needs to be said, 2) why should I give it more exposure and attention, and 3) I wrote an overly long, overly wordy piece this summer already, back when there was this other No Bra Day (how many are there?!). The earlier piece, I Don’t Want to See It, is mostly crap I wish I had not written, only the final 5 or so paragraphs are worth reading, and some of the sentiment of those will be repeated here.

I changed my mind because as I started mentally ranting I realized that ignoring it won’t make it go away any more than giving it more attention will (more on this theory, keep reading). It deserves all the outrage that can be had.

Who the hell organizes these No Bra Days? There is no organizational name on that graphic (everyone has seen it I’m sure), so I guess it is just some idea someone passed around on Facebook (sorry, I still cannot have a FB page for personal, non-cancer related reasons, so I’m dim on Facebook things). How the hell does it benefit anyone? Don’t bullshit me and say it raises awareness, especially when the top line of the graphic reads “support breast cancer”. Sounds like the purpose of the day is to increase the incidence of breast cancer—the graphic doesn’t even bother to discuss support for patients in any way.  It’s just another excuse to sexualize a disease, and to be childish and talk about boobies. Again.

What I am saying is divisive and angry; I know and do not care. I am so fond of the quote “just because you’re offended, doesn’t mean you’re right,” (Ricky Gervais) and I know that just because this event and the participants offend me, I’m not right. Lots of folks, including breast cancer patients, think all this is just fine, so it is doubtful that this event will cease to exist. But I AM offended and right or wrong, I’m going to gripe about it.

Setting healthy ta-tas “free” doesn’t support this breast cancer patient, again, not that this event even bothers to pretend to support any patients, it is supporting breast cancer, remember? It just reminds me of what cancer did to my breasts, and to other breasts. The scars, the ugliness, the pain and surgery. Need I go on? While I can begrudgingly accept that people who donate or participate in Pink have good hearts even if I hate Pink, I have NO appreciation for anyone involved in No Bra Day. Do NOT expect any gratitude or applause for the participation from me. I’m glad that these women are still healthy, still have breasts unmarred by cancer, but I really do not want to be reminded of what I lost. To those who organized this No Bra Day, I consider you insensitive, thoughtless jerks.

I know this day, the participants, and whoever organized it will get praise from many corners—but a quick scan on Google and other blogs gives evidence of some criticism about this event. I wish there more outrage about it. While I have no hope these days of the Pink machine slowing down, I yearn for more concrete ways to express my extreme dissatisfaction. This No Bra Day is one of the most egregious examples of how a disease has become the plaything of an adolescent, boobies obsessed culture.  If I were rich, I’d buy a million very covering and very supportive bras and throw them—well, somewhere, since there is no physical headquarters for this idiotic nonsense. Maybe I’d just scatter them about a big city street, to stop traffic and get everyone to see how at least this one breast cancer patient really feels. Sure, that would just be me throwing a childish tantrum—but the organizers have proven that they are not emotionally or intellectually adult enough to understand the lengthy, smart essays criticizing the event.

Source: etsy
Source: etsy

Why doesn’t someone come up with a “What Cancer Really Does to Breasts Day”, gathering and presenting all the pictures of so many bloggers (myself included, I would do this) in various stages of lumpectomy/mastectomy, reconstruction or no reconstruction? There are certainly plenty of said pictures on the internet. I get why established groups or projects cannot do this—with establishment comes the need to “play nice”.  Being a socially awkward, complaining Curmudgeon—in real life and in the blogosphere—means I seem unable to play nice.

I’m sure many would find a “What Cancer Really Does to Breasts Day” objectionable and offensive (see this is where I can use the Gervais quote to my advantage). But here’s the thing: not wearing bras, or even those “tasteful” Pink ads featuring topless, strategically covered, healthy-breasted models for that matter, do nothing to make anyone understand the reality of breast cancer—other than show off what to those who objectify boobies will be “missing” should cancer afflict any of these women. The current socially acceptable image of breast cancer is the bald-headed woman in a pink t-shirt at a run or walk, smiling and being strong. To me it’s like a sick before and after scenario: women before cancer can be sexy and flaunt naked breasts for cancer awareness, women after breast cancer surgery need to keep covered, need to become unsexy soldiers to admire for bravery, but not to be desired.

Seeing what breast cancer is capable of, and what women who’ve had scarring surgery are capable of, seems more logical and helpful to me. On a personal level, it certainly would’ve helped me when I was recovering from surgery and follow-up radiation, wondering what to do. Instead I saw bikini clad women in ta-ta breast cancer ads, and felt horrible, my emotional wound constantly re-opened.

I loathe the battle language in cancer, as I’ve mentioned often enough throughout my posts. What I hate most is that it is used mainly to blame “soldiers” who’ve “lost their battle with cancer” because they “didn’t fight hard enough.” I rarely see war talk applied in terms of a grand battle plan. Why isn’t it applied here? A good general goes into battle prepared, knowing as much about the enemy as possible—their weapons, strategies, the size and the location of the enemy, and what the enemy does to prisoners. Would it not make sense to show what the “enemy”, breast cancer, does to these “soldier” women? How can this proverbial “battle” be fought if everyone is refusing to acknowledge the “battle scars”? Oh right, we’re not supposed to be victims or prisoners, cancer happens to us, but there should be no lasting mental effects, and no one wants to see the scars (as the summertime fracas with Facebook and the surrounding conversations proved)—we either win or lose, and it’s all on us, even if the weapons (medicine) fail the soldiers, no matter how hard we fight. Yes I’m being sarcastic.

This mass delusion of only showing healthy breasts in regards to breast cancer has got to stop. Yes, it is good to think positive, to dream, and to champion the bright side of life—even if a Cancer Curmudgeon just won’t do that. But to completely ignore the reality, to not face the ugliness or pain cancer brings, I assure everyone, it doesn’t make the ugliness or pain cease to exist. Furthermore, wouldn’t seeing pictures of women ALIVE after scarring surgery be, I don’t know, positive? I remember being told on HuffPo this summer that these scars should not be shown. Hope she never has to go through it, hope she never has to see that ugliness in the mirror, hope she never needs to see my example of one who turned an ugly scar into a triumph.

I prefer to know what I’m up against and I’m tired of a socially acceptable conversation about cancer in which everyone covers their eyes and ears, singing “la la la”, like nothing bad ever happens.  Sometimes, ignoring the bad stuff only results in a sucker punch later.

Only three types of people tell the truth: kids, drunk people, and anyone who is pissed the fuck off.” –Richard Pryor

Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed. –Nietzsche

I Don’t Want to See It

Subtitle: (and I probably don’t want to hear it)

Note 1: NSFW-picture of my bare, cancer-scarred breast below

Note 2: Controversial and offensive content—something about a woman writing about feminist issues makes everyone lose their shit. Please read all the way through including the note at the end if you wish to send anger or hate, which will simply be removed—it’s my blog, my rules

Continue reading “I Don’t Want to See It”

Does Breast Cancer Owe It to Other Cancers?

A/N This is a potentially offensive post, please follow my train of thought to the end, I am trying NOT to be a jackass, and failing. This is just how I am seeing this issue at the moment. I beg you to change my mind in the comments.

Here is yet another criticism of that 2020 deadline, Can Setting a Deadline Put an End to Breast Cancer?  by Geoffrey Kabat. I’ve already blogged about this issue, when that editorial in “Nature” appeared few months ago.

Honestly, I have a few problems with the 2020 Deadline myself, even more now than when I originally wrote about it. My biggest problem is one of the main issues confronted by these editorials: that discovery cannot be forced; it will not answer to a deadline. I agree with this, and even the idea that setting a goal that has a real chance of NOT being met is a bit risky.

But what irks me is in both of these pieces, there is this suggestion, no, AN EXPECTATION that breast cancer activists, advocates, organizations should focus on other cancer problems, not just breast cancer. These activists/organizations have done such a good job of creating awareness (really?), the energy should be applied to other cancers, so the thinking, I assume, must go.

Is it really the best solution for National Breast Cancer Coalition, or any other organization DEDICATED to breast cancer, to handle other cancer problems? I mean, National BREAST CANCER Coalition, see? BREAST CANCER right there in the name. There probably are already some organizations taking on other cancers in baby steps now; goodness knows the damn ribbons for all other diseases exist (stop reducing diseases to ribbons!), and I suspect these groups have adopted some tactics of breast cancer awareness. If so, let us hope these groups learn from pink marketing’s mistakes before they go too far. The deadline has a focus of ending breast cancer, misguided or not, but that is because the whole point of the organization is…wait for it…BREAST CANCER. That is why it formed. Its objective, according to an old address by its president Frances Visco, is to end breast cancer and cease to exist because it would no longer be needed. Why would anyone think it should do other work—to self-perpetuate?

It’s just that the logic demanding breast cancer organizations (which were formed for WHAT disease, again? yes I’m being sarcastic) work on other cancers is flat out faulty. Go with my flow here for a second. This author points out lung cancer kills more women, and says a breast cancer organization should do something about it. This implies breast cancer is just a women’s problem, breast cancer organizations are just women’s organizations. Well, no, men get it too, and a breast cancer organization is about all breast cancer no matter what the sex of the body it’s in; and the breast cancer organization is not focusing on all health issues suffered by women (because it was formed to focus on what disease again? Say it all together now: BREAST CANCER). Yes the opposite is true; breast cancer can be under the umbrella of women’s health. So when he says “The exclusive focus on breast cancer skews one’s perspective by blotting out other opportunities,” does he really mean we should get rid of some breast cancer organizations, and pay less attention to breast cancer because other diseases kill more women, and are therefore more important? Because that is kind of what it sounds like, and that would be incredibly stupid.

Also, I am a little confused and bewildered at the author’s suggestions that breast cancer organizations work specifically on lung and cervical cancers. According to the information in his editorial, the causes of these two are known and preventions available. The reason the 2020 project is in place is to find the cause(s) and some preventions for breast cancer. That would mean, work on breast cancer is far behind the work on these other two cancers. So, is he suggesting breast cancer organizations work on these projects because, what, it’s easier? And what, just say to future breast cancer patients, sorry you’re SOL, it was easier to sell what we already had or knew, because we did not want to invest in even trying to make a discovery?

Perhaps the bug up everyone’s ass is jealousy because of all the attention breast cancer has amassed over the past few decades. I KNOW lung cancer AND heart disease kills more women. Not this article, but plenty of other articles about heart disease always seem to start off with a sentence about how heart disease kills more women than breast cancer, as if the authors are personally offended that breast cancer gets more attention than their cause (read this fabulous rant by a blogger on Tumblr). I know everyone has their own agenda, their own pet cause because it is something that impacts them, and each individual is entitled to their viewpoint and their cause. But picking on breast cancer is just getting tiresome.

Breast cancer organizations are most likely run/staffed/founded by those with personal knowledge of it, which is why they work on it (duh, it is what they know best), rather than, say, heart disease. I blog about breast cancer because I had it. When I get heart disease, I’ll blog about that too. It is the nature of the beast. Should diseases that kill more people get more attention? Maybe, but how does that make those diseases more important, more devastating, than a rare disease to someone who has had loved ones die from said rare disease? Who the hell goes around saying “my disease is more important than your disease because it kills more people”? Breast cancer patients, imagine saying to your ovarian cancer friends “breast cancer is more important because more women have it?” How much of an asshole would you have to be to say that? But it seems OK to imply these other diseases are more important than breast cancer for the same reason. Breast cancer may be viewed as a big ol’ pink bully in disease world, but it is starting to be the one bullied. Apparently payback is a bitch.

color pink

The blessing and the curse of pink marketing is that it made breast cancer seem like the most important and desirable cause in the world; getting a lot of money and research which resulted in treatments that saved lives, including my own, for which I am grateful. But the fact is, pink dollars didn’t stop breast cancer from happening to women, it didn’t even really slow it down, just stopped some of the dying. But not all of the dying. Breast cancer patients still get mets and die, no matter how much pink marketing pretends this doesn’t happen (remember, cancer patients don’t die, they lose their battle). In short, pink has not been a blinding success. So when advocates for other health causes complain about how much attention breast cancer gets, I suggest taking a long hard look at that, and understand there is a dirty underside to pink that needs exposure. And there are plenty of bloggers exposing it, it wouldn’t be hard to learn the truth.

Back to the question at hand, do breast cancer organizations owe it to other disease problems? I’m certainly not suggesting here that breast cancer groups should just turn up their noses and say “not my problem” about other cancers. There are more breast cancer survivors because incidence has not decreased like the death rate. I may feel a personal obligation to advocating, yelling, on behalf of those causes, but I don’t think an organization devoted to a certain focus should split that focus; that is unfair to the people the organization set out to serve. It is difficult to say which is the more compassionate choice here, if there is one. And yes I do realize that new organizations for unrepresented causes/diseases cannot just be created with the snap of fingers. I don’t have the answer; I’m only asking the question. It will take many minds to come up with the solution.