Snow!
Gem’s first day playing in the snow.
Toes! (just checking to make sure they’re still there.)
It Gets Real
She had warm eyes and the sweetest smile, but it was her wit that took my breath away. You had to pay attention because her comments were quiet, under-the-breath, but they would make you snort-laugh and shoot your champagne out your nose.
To be honest, I didn’t know her very well, we only met a few times, yet here I sit with a hole in my heart. I wanted to know her better. I intended to get to know her, but we ran out of time, and now it will never happen.
Elizabeth belonged to my support group, the Young Survival Coalition, a circle of friends all battling breast cancer much too young. Daughters and grand daughters, sisters, friends, wives, and mothers of young children – a group of women I embrace, knowing full well that it will lead to my heart break again, and again, and again.
This is where it gets real. You might think losing my hair or the amputation of a breast would make it real, but those are such trivial things when death becomes an issue. I know that in the years to come, some of these women I hold so close to my heart will die. I know I might be one of them. There is so much love in this group, and so much understanding. These women comprehend the pain, the fatigue, the body image issues, the adjustment to life with this monster inside, and worst of all, the fear that someone else will end up raising your child. They live with it, too.
This is the first time since my diagnosis that someone I know died of breast cancer. I hope I never get used to it.
Godspeed E-beth, and love to your husband and children.
You can learn more about my cancer story here:
Let’s Connect
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Dear Gem – Month 19
Your vocabulary is just exploding. It’s not just one or two new words a day, it’s several. Big words, like squirrel and butterfly, which is nearly unintelligible, but I know what you’re saying. You’re picking up on concepts, too. The other day when we saw the peacock at the zoo, you pointed at it and said “blue.” You just told me “thank you” when I gave you some apple slices. Make a note, I know you know how to say thank you. It’s de regueur for you now.
This month has been busy. Last weekend we had a memorial service for my grandmother, your Great-Grandma McKinley. We called her Grandma Candy because your cousins, Max and Ilona, couldn’t pronounce Grandma McKinley when they were little. The name stuck.
The picture above shows Grandma Candy holding you a few days after you were born. She hand knit the green blanket on her lap just for you. She was going blind and her hands were extremely arthritic. That means completing this blanket was a big challenge, but she didn’t let her fading eyesight or the pain in her hands stop her from making a blanket for you. Because she couldn’t see well, sometimes a mistake would slip through, and then great swathes of the blanket would have to be ripped out and re-knit to get it right, or “just so.” Grandma Candy would say “just so” when describing something that had been carefully and thoughtfully arranged. Someday when you are looking at that blanket, you will notice that a few holes and dropped stitches remain. I hope that someday you will understand how precious that blanket is, and that those dropped stitches are precious too. She loved you very much.
Along with the memorial service, we had a big family reunion. This was the first time for you to meet most of our extended family: your aunts and uncles and your cousins and second cousins and even third cousins. There are more degrees of separation in there, but I’m completely baffled by calculating whether someone is a second cousin once removed. I finally just settled on calling everyone cousin and left it at that.
You got along well with your cousins and you were charming with everyone. So many people stopped to comment on how sweet you were. Daddy and I were so proud of you.
Right after the family reunion, it was time for trick or treating. You were a zebra this year, fitting after all the time we spent at the zoo. You were a little scared of the costume at first, but once we got it on you, you roared. That’s your thing lately, you like to roar. So I should rephrase. You were a ferocious zebra this year.
I am baby, hear me roar
You still love to color and draw. It is your favorite way to pass the time. You lie down on the floor with your feet kicked up, and color for hours on end. I bring crayons and paper with us everywhere we go.
You sit on your green chair with the white polka dots, with your little bare feet sticking out and your toes wiggling while you fill up your journal with pictures like this:
I love seeing you so happy. There’s something about wiggling toes that goes hand in hand with happiness, too. You can’t stay in a bad mood and wiggle your toes at the same time. Try it. I dare you.
I love you so much.
Mommy
Pinkwashing and Breast Cancer Awareness Month
As we wind down the end of October and Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I’ve heard a number of complaints that go so far as to say we should just forget Breast Cancer Awareness Month altogether because of all the pinkwashing.
What is pinkwashing? When corporate jerks slap a pink ribbon on a product or service to increase the likelihood it will sell during Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but little money, or even none, is actually forwarded on to the non-profits working to cure breast cancer or support those battling this disease.
Pinkwashing is infuriating. It turns my stomach that these corporate creeps are using my crisis to make a quick buck.
But let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater.
In the seven months since my diagnosis, I’ve met so many women, both here in Seattle and out on the interwebs, who found their lump in October. They found it because of all the chatter, all the pink, all the hype caused them to pause and take a second look at their own breasts. Breast Cancer Awareness Month saves lives.
I recently attended a lecture on breast cancer where I learned, among other things, that the most exciting advances in all of cancer research are happening in the field of breast cancer. Life expectancy is improving every year. Komen for the Cure is second only to the US Government in funding this research. That means all those walks and all those fundraisers really are saving lives. So thank you to all of you who walk or donate. You are making a difference.
The Pink Daisy Project and the Young Survival Coalition also receive a large percentage of their funding during Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Rather than focusing on research, these organizations help women with breast cancer endure until we find a cure.
Both of these organizations have had a huge impact on my life. Imagination does not do justice to the financial and emotional devastation of a cancer diagnosis. When I was buried under a never-ending pile of housework that added up during treatment, and digging through the couch for change to buy diapers, the Pink Daisy Project took care of the practical concerns that come with battling cancer. They hired a house keeping service to help dig me out of the mess, and sent me grocery gift cards to buy the necessities of life. Each woman is helped in a way that meets their specific needs. They helped one young woman who was losing her battle with cancer to get family portraits before she passed away. It breaks my heart to think how much those photos meant.
The Young Survival Coalition (YSC) is saving my sanity. There are so many issues that come up for young women battling cancer that might be different for the 60 year old woman with breast cancer: parenting, early menopause, more aggressive cancers, higher mortality, sexuality, reconstruction, dating, marriage, fertility, pregnancy, and adoption just to name a few. Many YSC members were told by medical professionals that they were too young to have breast cancer. You can get breast cancer as soon as you hit puberty, and it is the leading cause of cancer death in women between the ages of 15 and 54. In addition to functioning as a support group for young women battling breast cancer, YSC is working to educate the public and the medical community about the growing number of women diagnosed so young, to encourage earlier diagnosis, and to better represent young women with breast cancer in the sample groups for medical trials.
Ending Breast Cancer Awareness Month would seriously impact the ability of these organizations to fund their good work. Sure, there is a buttload of money going into the pockets of corporate jerks that are just using us. But don’t let the fact that these corporate buttheads exist undo a good thing. Educate yourself. Take a close look at what you are buying. Does it just have a pink ribbon attached? Is there more information available about where the funds go – and how much? Remember even a penny is “a portion of the proceeds.”
Pay attention to what you are buying and Think Before You Pink. But lets keep Breast Cancer Awareness Month around for a while. We still need to cure this disease.
because we danced
I’ve been having the most deliciously random fantasies lately.
My favorite involves a big button or switch on the wall in my house. I’m in control, and I can flip that switch any time I want. The lights go down, a big disco ball descends from the ceiling, and loud, throbbing dance music fills the room. Everyone has to stop whatever it is that they’re doing and dance for the duration of the song.
When the song is over, the music stops, the disco ball disappears, and the lights go back up. Everyone goes back to normal as if nothing happened: back to the arguments, or feeding, or navel gazing, or research, or contemplation of washing dishes.
But something did happen.
Everything is better.
Because we danced.
