Who's afraid of the big bad mammogram?

Since my mom died of breast cancer, I’m forced to take precautions for myself.   I’ve had the BRCA gene testing (all clear!), the dietary overhaul (more broccoli!), and the breast self exams (what fun!).   So far, so good. 

Except for my questionable breasts.  I’ve got dense tissue and suspicious calcifications, so I get screened more often than most.  If the mammogram facility had a frequent flier program, I’d be a platinum member. 

Each time I sit in the waiting room, holding tightly to my own anxieties, all I think about is mom.  How she was strong, brave, and practical.  She knew mammograms were in my future - and for many of my female friends.  In the year before she died, she emailed me this:

Many women are afraid of their first mammogram, and even if they have had them before, there is fear.  But there is no need to worry.  By taking a few minutes each day for a week preceding the exam and doing the following practice exercises, you will be totally prepared.   Best of all, you can do these simple practice exercises right in your home.

EXERCISE 1:  Open your refrigerator door, and insert one breast between the door and the main box.  Have one of your strongest friends slam the door shut as hard as possible and lean on the door for good measure.  Hold that position for five seconds.  Repeat in case the first time wasn’t effective.

EXERCISE 2:  Visit your garage at 3a.m. when the temperature of the cement floor is just perfect.  Take off all your clothes and lie comfortably on the floor sideways with one breast wedged under the rear tire of the car.  Ask a friend to slowly back the car up until your breast is sufficiently flattened and chilled.  Switch sides, and repeat for the other breast. 

EXERCISE 3:  Freeze two metal bookends overnight.  Strip to the waist.  Invite a stranger into the room.  Have the stranger press the bookends against either side of one of your breasts and smash the bookends together as hard as he/she can.  Set an appointment with the stranger to meet next year to do it again.

You are now properly prepared!

Love,

Mom

So go forth, ladies.  Book your appointment, freeze your bookends, and have no fear!

Why I hate October

I’m going to start by apologizing to anyone who is going to be offended. 

October is my least favorite month of the year.   It’s Breast Cancer Awareness month and the malls and magazines around this country are vomiting all over me with marketing material and pink ribbon merchandise.  The stench of money and greed makes my own stomach turn.   

My mother died of breast cancer nearly ten years ago, and this merchandise makes me angry – not for the loss I endured, but for the memories of the cure that money couldn’t buy.   It reminds me of those early October mornings in the hospital twin bed with my mother, facing a cancer that wouldn’t quit.  I’d look at the dying leaves outside the window and the pink flooded commercials on television and feel like I was being taunted both by nature and commerce. 

I’ve seen dozens of media ads that promise a portion of the proceeds goes to breast cancer foundations.  But there is usually an asterisk.  For one campaign I saw, the fine print capped their breast cancer research donation at $100,000.  To regular individuals like you and me, that sounds like a lot of money.  But in the medical research world, that’s pennies.  It's a rounding error.

I can hear the critics in my head and comment boxes shouting, Every dollar counts!  Even small donations add up!  Money for prevention and research is the best medicine!   The inner voices remind me that I am at risk for breast cancer and research money could be the difference between my life and death. 

Yes.  

But then I see this:  

I can't even begin to swallow a breast cancer DOUGHNUT.  

When mom was having her own chemotherapy, the better medicine was when we roamed the halls, sitting at the end of the hospital beds talking with other patients, other women, other moms. The biggest support happened when we opened up about our struggles and fears and cracked open our hearts just enough to let others do the same.

So what are we supposed to do?  Instead of buying all of this pink clutter, roam the halls of your life and listen from the heart.  Get a mammogram, and let me know when it’s November.  I will wear pink again, just not yet. 

(And of course, don’t be discouraged to donate directly to legitimate breast cancer research foundations).