This begins the month of pink.
I used to like pink. Well, in all honesty, I really do like it. Most of the time. I cease to like pink during the last week of September when I realize Breast Cancer Awareness Month is here and then it takes me until after the New Year to embrace the color again. In fact, now that I think about it, I am realizing I made a very poor choice in an Elon t-shirt I recently purchased for myself. It is pink with the letters E L O N in maroon. Now I can’t wear it to games because people will think I am making some kind of shallow statement. Ugh.
The pink means nothing. Instead of working towards humane treatments for ALL cancer patients, our culture falsely promises a cure for this one cancer, and wrongly targets women as the only humans to experience this cancer.
And with the pink, we mock those women with the belief that they have support this one month out of twelve.
Cancer cannot be cured. It is a part, a piece, of Nature. Nature can be God, as I see it. Or Nature can be an absent evolution, as others may see it. It matters not. The result is the same and the result is necessary. It is what it is. No matter how much money is spent, no matter how much pink yarn is woven and those pink garments worn, cancer cannot be stopped.
I suggest we stop with the false idols and instead look individually inward for a way to make a difference in the physical and emotional well-being of a cancer patient or a cancer caregiver.
Wearing a pink ribbon will do nothing.
Following are some links, like the above, to past blog entries I’ve written about cancer. My life has not been untouched by these miscreant cells that exist in all of us from birth. I lost my Nana to cancer and her journey started with breast cancer. My Nana loved me unconditionally. No one else has loved me like that except for my Husband. And want to know something funny? I’m glad their time with me never overlapped. They’d make each other crazy.