I vividly remember the best and worst night of my year. As Barack Obama
cheered “Yes, We Can,” my mother was absent-mindedly thumbing what we all agreed was a lump on her chest. I took comfort in the fact that she said it hurt—cancer doesn’t hurt. She’ll be fine
, I thought. But as we toasted champagne and hugged each other for Obama’s victory, with brows slightly furrowed, I prayed for my mother, my strong and stubborn mother. I didn’t go with her to the doctor—my father did. I probably slept until noon, which was a common occurrence since I’d just driven all my belongings and my cat 1,991 miles from New York City to Santa Fe in three days. I was jobless, tentatively moving to Los Angeles in a few months and had no idea what I was doing with my future. And it turned out that my 58-year-old mother, my best friend and deepest confidant, had breast cancer
. Keep reading »
Yesterday, while watching football, I made a snarky comment about an announcer’s flamboyant shirt-tie combination only to learn he was wearing the baby pink striped tie in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Really?
I was completely floored when I found out the entire NFL is very involved in raising awareness for a disease that rarely affects men. The league even has a campaign, “The Crucial Catch,” advocating annual screenings, especially for women over 40. Throughout October, players, coaches, and referees can choose to wear pink game apparel — from shoes and sweatbands to mouth guards and chin straps — which will be auctioned off, with the money going to the American Cancer Society and team charities. Plus, all players’ helmets have been outfitted with a pink ribbon decal, and fields have been painted with pink ribbon stencils. Keep reading »
“It’s really hard because they just aren’t the same—and I had really good ones. If you have boobs you don’t like, you can go and choose the size you want, and then get a brand new present. But it’s different [when it’s not your choice]. I hold on to the fact that I don’t have to wear a bra, which is great!”
—Christina Applegate, in the October issue of Women’s Health talking about having breast reconstruction surgery after a double masectomy for breast cancer Keep reading »
Boobs and babies don’t mix … their boobs, that is. I’ve seen enough pasties for kids and stripper poles for toddlers to get stabby about anything that sexualizes an impressionable kiddo. So I’m not too keen on the breast cancer awareness tees for little girls that say “Find A Cure! Before I Grow Boobies.” Clever T-shirt, yes. But as the aunt of three pre-school aged girls, I feel weird about anything that could draw a creepy person’s attention to their non-existent “boobies.” (FWIW, I’d balk if my nephew had a tee shirt that said “Testicular Cancer: Find A Cure Before My Balls Drop!” too.) A pink ribbon or something would be just fine to raise awareness, thanks. What do you think: Are these T-shirts kinda icky or are they cute? [Zazzle.com] Keep reading »
Um, weird. A new study shows that women who use Tamoxifen, a drug mean to prevent estrogen-sensitive cancers like breast cancer, for more than five years are four times more likely to develop a non-estrogen-sensitive tumor in their other breast. The new tumors, although uncommon, are more difficult to treat. Scary, but docs are quick to question the study, which only examined women’s chances of developing cancer in their second breast. Some said it could just be a “statistical fluke” and pointed out that none of the women who took Tamoxifen for one to four years developed a new tumor. Others are worried that the results of this study could make patients scared to take the drug, which has been proven effective in keeping cancer from recurring or spreading. Eek. [NY Times] Keep reading »
Viva Las Vegas is a popular stripper based in Portland, Oregon. A preacher’s daughter, she was raised in the Midwest before she moved to the West, where she worked as a nude dancer for over a dozen years. Eventually, she wondered if it was time to retire. Last year, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. After chemo made her hair fall out and a mastectomy left her with one breast, she wasn’t sure what to do. So, she wrote a book about her experiences: Magic Gardens: The Memoirs of Viva Las Vegas. After the lump was removed, extra skin from a cadaver was used to cover the area, but she resisted having her breast rebuilt with an implant. And then, she went back to stripping … [The Daily Beast] Keep reading »
Confession: each time I go to the gyno and she shows me how to do a breast self-exam, I stupidly smile and nod my head and she talks and prods my boob, knowing I have no clue what she’s really feeling. I then go home, fondle my own breasts and end up in frustration because (surprise!) they’re lumpy all over! It makes me feel like a bad woman who is not “in touch with her body” to admit that I don’t know what to think of those “normal” lumps. My doctor even once discovered what turned out to be a benign lump, and even then it didn’t feel distinctive. To help solve these problem, there’s now Breastlight, a wand that essentially lets you see what’s going on inside your chest. Take the device into a dark room, apply the lubricant to your breast, and hold Breastlight under your boob to light it up in red hue, highlighting veins and any other abnormalities. It’s not meant to replace mammograms, but at least it will help morons like myself know when something isn’t right. [Uk.breastlight.com] Keep reading »
Sirens siren Heather Wood Rudulph has written a piece for Huffington Post about five reasons we still need feminism, including the recent murder of abortion provider, Dr. George Tiller, and the propensity of pop culture to make women look like marriage-crazy loons.
Her five reasons are just dandy, but why limit ourselves to only five? It was depressingly easy to think of five more reasons we need more of the F-word. Keep reading »