Breast cancer focus must look beyond ‘Pinktober’
Pink tutus, pink ribbons, pink hats, pink shirts; these are the sights throughout media during October. October is the month of breast cancer awareness. A time for groups and individuals to raise awareness and funds for breast cancer research. There are so many pink activities it feels like a celebration. October, also known as “Pinktober,” however, is not a month of happiness for me. It is a painful time that brings unpleasant memories to life. I was diagnosed with breast cancer at 38 years of age.
During Pinktober, I reflect on the voices in the infusion center waiting room describing their stories of remission and reccurrence. I would sink deeper into my chair, wishing and hoping for the nurse to call my name. When she finally did, the relief and dread I simultaneously felt were indescribable.
Sitting in the infusion chair, I didn’t think of pink tutus and cancer walks. I meditated on people, like a woman I’ll call Vivian, who was a nurse like me. I met her in the waiting room one day. I remember her saying, “They told me it would not come back, but here I am.” I remember the day she was not in the waiting room. She “lost her battle with cancer.” A phrase I feel offended by as it contributes to disparity — a winner and a loser. Cancer is not a winner.
Nearly two years after my diagnosis at the prompting of friends, I threw on a pink tutu. I participated in a breast cancer walk. Despite the heavy emotions I felt, something was empowering about participating. During the walk, it occurred to me that cancer likes silence. It grows quietly. I realized to make a difference; I had to be louder than cancer. I had to share my story. I want others to know how to spot, stop and overcome breast cancer, but how? Hearing my story is not enough — women need to see the signs of breast cancer.
As a teenager, I watched the TV series “Beverly Hills 90210.” On one episode, Brenda found a lump in her breast, and all the girls at my high school were talking about it. Because of a TV show, we learned about breast health and the importance of breast exams. Where do teenage girls learn about breast health today?
Breast cancer is not merely a personal issue; it is a political one, too. Virtually all aspects of breast cancer are touched by public policy, which provides an opportunity for voters to move breast cancer beyond awareness into something more powerful — education. In September, Florida Sen. Kevin Rader filed Senate Bill 276: Health Education, which would update Florida’s public K-12 education statutes to mandate that the health-education curriculum for students in grades 9 through 12 includes breast and prostate cancer prevention. Students will be taught the characteristics of breast and prostate cancer and measures to prevent them.
Don’t let the ridiculous campaigns of Pinktober distract from the crux of what breast cancer conversations should be about: prevention, early detection, and a cure. In 2019, nearly 20,000 Florida women have been diagnosed with breast cancer. Of them, 3,000 have lost their lives from this horrid disease. I am here to tell you: Hell no, a 31-day societal focus on breast cancer is not enough. We need progress and education. Early detection is key to survival.
After midnight on Oct. 31, the pink tutus come off, and pink shirts no longer yell “Save the Tatas.” A woman in a pink tutu stands alone because all the noise has stopped, and she has to continue to live Pinktober 365. And on Nov. 1, another is hearing, “I am sorry. You have breast cancer.” While a woman is sitting in a pink hospital gown, getting chemotherapy. And another survivor takes her last breath because her life was cut short by breast cancer.
As a breast cancer survivor and a nurse practitioner, I urge you to contact your representatives and ask for their support of SB 276. This bill contributes toward saving lives through early detection and awareness, not just in Pinktober but every day. Be the voice of every woman. Cancer is not the winner. We are!