Saturday, July 10, 2010

And just like that

I am a runner again. This is a shirt I bought at the Susan B. Komen run a couple of years ago. I put it on today and did a very easy beginner's run of 2/3 walking. Just one minute "bursts" of a gentle jog here and there, with iPod and water bottle. It's in the low 70's and breezy and overcast so this was perfect running weather.

It's pretty much the only pink ribbon I can tolerate. You might not understand if you haven't been sick, but it's too close for comfort to see that ribbon sometimes.

It tends to be a visual reminder of that first panicky wave of "I have cancer?!" and feelings bubble up about "Why is it always on my mind... and now there are cute ribbons in my face too, should I manage to forget for a minute." A tangible thing to focus my hatred of the disease upon, ...and anger at the frustration of having to interrupt my life for the past six, no, seven months and letting this dictate my agenda to me despite things I'd rather be doing.

It's just a little pink ribbon. I know how much good it does, truly. That's why I bought the shirt when I was healthy. Because of the ribbon, I went to Look Good Feel Better, and I did and I do... I just wish we didn't need pink ribbons and that breast cancer had never knocked on my door.


onescrappychick said...


Trish said...

I wish we didn't need ribbons, or walks, or fundraisers, or bone marrow drives, or blood drives...but we do.

One friend said, a few months ago, he'd like to annihilate cancer altogether---and he hasn't been touched by anyone closer than a distant co-worker having it.

When you're in the middle of treatment, you cannot get away from cancer easily. If it isn't the missing hair, or the veins, or the meds, or the side effects, it is someone in your face about it (however nice they might be, sometimes saying the most insensitive thing). You can't get far enough away from it, because it is always right there.

You'd like to hide. Like this to not be your problem (but can't think of but maybe one person you'd like to give it to instead), and that ribbon is just in your face. Reminding you that you can't take a vacation from cancer.


remember, you're alive. you've got a good chance to be alive for a good while longer.

because of those damn ribbons. research has made progress in the last 30 years, so you're uncomfy (and pissed, and grumpy, and tired) from treatment, but do not have a 50%+ chance of dying from the treatment (the guessing they used to do with meds).

I revolving around cancer gets old quickly, can't get away from it, but you will.

I survived cancer. So far, the only person in my family to do so. There ARE days I can't stand the ribbons either. But I thank G-d someone could---because when my uncle got my same cancer in the 60's, he was given 6 months, no real treatment other than to cut it out and put him in hospital eventually. My cousin got the same thing in the 80's and had about the same treatment. Steps have been made. The choices we have still suck, but they ARE better.

when you're up to it, go to the batting cage, ask them to put little ribbons on the damn balls and smack the hell out of them to work it off! ;-)