How to Endure Pinktober
Ah, October. Some think of it as the time when the leaves start to fall, pumpkins appear on porches and in coffee drinks, sweaters are donned to get cozy in the crisp autumn air. I can smell the pumpkin, but all I see is pink. Breast Cancer Awareness month turns the world a cloying shade of pink. Pink ribbon pins and stickers and posters and car magnets. Pink NFL cleats and cups and sweatbands. Really?
Companies from every industry find new and odd ways to promote breast cancer awareness, crossing the line from generosity to exploitation faster than you can say "We can't do it without you!" Yoplait comes to mind. For several years, they based their Pinktober campaign on the old green stamps scam: consumers had to mail in specially marked foil lids (licked clean in ads due to deliciousness) and Yoplait would donate a nickel for every lid received. No, we won't just donate money to the cause, you have to jump through hoops to get it. I imagine if they fail to curry enough response, they could sit on their donation and blame it on a lazy public. Empty gestures, manipulation, cancer research as marketing tool. This what drives me nuts in Pinktober.
It hit peak ridiculous with a new promotion from the makers of Words with Friends. They pledged $1OO,OOO to Susan G. Komen, as long as their audience plays 6 million special pink tiles during the month of October. I have no idea how many regular tiles are played in a given month, and I wager that there are a limited number of special tiles. How many games do I have to play to make a difference? How many tiles do I even have access to? Better yet, why does your generosity depend on my waste of time?
I am torn about Breast Cancer Awareness month as a thing. Awareness strikes me as vital in diseases and disorders that are misunderstood or rare. I don't think awareness is what's lacking in breast cancer treatment. We'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who discovers why the quarterback's hand towel is pink and follows up with "Oh, what's breast cancer?"But funding research is important, I have seen firsthand what money over time can do. In 1999, I participated in early trials for the sentinel node biopsy, which enables doctors to find the likely path of metastasis and limit surgery or treatment if no cancer is found beyond the tumor. By 2O15, the sentinel node biopsy was matter of course. In 1999, there were two hormones believed to feed most breast cancers (progesterone and estrogen), they were just finishing up trials with the HER2 hormone in metastasized cancers. By 2O15, when my pathology revealed HER2 involvement, I was prescribed a crazy-effective drug that targets the HER2 receptor. I have no doubt that Herceptin was the leading soldier in my second fight against cancer.
Doctors know more all the time through research and clinical trials, which of course take money but they also rely on participants. I am excited to participate in any study I am qualified for, from cutting-edge medicine to really basic questions of standards of care. Even just answering surveys helps make a difference in what and how treatment is delivered. In 1999, I was patching together scraps of information and bouncing between doctors who never spoke to each other. In 2O15, they handed me a binder with cards for every doctor, information on every stage of treatment, flyers for support and self-care, and links to my online patient portal. I was more knowledgable and better equipped the second time around.No, I can't complain about all the breast cancer campaigns. I know how vital the fundraising is to fuel our knowledge and fight. But turning something pink just because it's October is marketing emptiness. Asking for complicated engagement in order to earn a donation to the cause is manipulative. Crying a flip "Save the Tatas!" is misguided; most women I know sacrificed their tatas to save themselves. Save the women. Save the lives. Save the trauma, the fear, the life-altering diagnosis, the disfigurement, the pain. It's so much more than tatas. More than pink.
There's one breast cancer campaign I can get behind, brought to me recently by my beloved cousin Amy, who knows cancer way too well. She has loved the song "I Touch Myself" since it was her karaoke staple in her 2Os; she knew I'd love it because tennis champ Serena Willams sings it here for the I Touch Myself campaign, in honor of the late Divinyls singer.
This is what resonates for me: I found my two cancers myself. No mammogram, no doctor palpitations, no routine screening. Just regular old self-exams, performed irregularly whenever I thought of it lying in bed at night. I got to know my breasts, learned what was normal for me and what wasn't. I knew when something was wrong.
Play Words with Friends if you like. Participate in studies when you can. Donate if you are able. Lick Yoplait lids if you must. But always, always, always Touch Yourself.
That's all I want this Pinktober.