Thursday, January 12, 2012

You are being f*cking childish


STOP IT! STOP IT!  STOP IT!
You’ve got facebook.  I’ve got facebook.  We’ve all seen the breast cancer “game.”  Seriously.  A game isn’t going to bring awareness to ANY type of cancer.  I say this as a “cancer orphan”; my mother died in 2004 from breast cancer that went from a stage 2, which is curable, to a stage 4, which is a death sentence, in under 6 months.
Her father had prostate cancer before he died.  He had lots going on – cancer, emphysema, COPD…  But the big one for me is the cancer, because prostate cancer and breast cancer are caused by the same genetic marker.  Did you know that?  Most folks that I tell that to have no idea.  My birth father’s grandmother had a double radial mastectomy in the 60’s.  So I’ve got it on both sides. 
I started having mammograms in my early 30’s.  Yup.  Early, huh?  It’s because mom’s breast cancer was so sneaky and her doctors thought that it developed before she turned 45 because of the hormone replacement therapy she was put on after her hysterectomy.  She had the hysterectomy when I was 17.  They found the cancer 7 years later.  It’s theorized that the cancer had been lying in wait for 6 years.  So less than a year of premarin and she got breast cancer.  After fighting it for 6 years, dealing with losing her hair, losing mobility because of a broken hip, and missing out on the retirement dreams she and her husband had, what got her was “renal failure.”
This means that the dentist gave her meds, it interacted with the meds she was on, caused her kidneys to shut down, and the doctor didn’t catch it in time.  The thought was that she could wait until her next oncology appointment, which was 5 days after the swelling started.  She died within 24 hours of her appointment with her oncologist.
Playing the cancer game doesn’t do anything.  Posting stuff about bald Barbie dolls and bra colors, and faux pregnancy doesn’t do anything.  Volunteering is effective.  Raising funds is effective.  Holding a patient’s hand during chemo helps.  Owning and donating the time of a therapy dog helps.  Listening, cooking for, and rides to appointments helps.  And, most of all, petitioning drug manufacturers to lower their prices, paying for October mammograms for the under-resourced, and demanding that a cure be found in our lifetime helps.
Early detection is key.  Save the ta-tas.
And with that, I step off my soap box and return to the insane ramblings, poop talk, and gibberish that you are accustomed to.


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