Here I am. 43 years along on the path of my life, with diagnosis number two. Same breast, different treatment. I go in for a mastectomy Monday morning. I am recovering from the biopsies, mammograms and Ultrasounds I have had over the past few weeks. I have a team, a plan and a great support system. All is good with me.
Except the distractions. As I said, the Susan G. Komen foundation has faltered, and I am saddened by this. I first ran in a 5K Race for the Cure when I was in my early twenties, honoring my mother, who had gone through the ravages of breast cancer treatment when I was 14. I was proud to be doing something "for the cure". But over time, and with my eventual diagnosis at age 36, I started to loath the pink ribbon and the crap it was printed on. I often wondered how on earth money from a pair of pink socks ever made it to the foundation? It probably didn't.
I am glad to see the powerful voices of reasonable women challenged this idiotic move and all appears to be restored (the money that is), but not resolved. You won't see me wearing a pink ribbon. Please don't send me any. I know I will get some, and the giver will be forgiven for not understanding, but may it not be you.
I have much more to say, and I am ready to begin the process of sharing. It took a few weeks. I have been recording my journey in a private diary this time, as a recurrence is something different than a first diagnosis. I am making peace with the journey I know is before me. The first time around, I had some hope of having overcome breast cancer. I now know better. I am in this for life.
My message to you, my dear friends and family, is this: find a doctor you love, get your annual mammograms, get intimate with your breasts and do your self-exam, and when something changes, don't stop gathering information until you are satisfied with the results.
Telling it like it is: