It's October and everything has gone pink.
There is a pink ribbon on the milk in my refrigerator. And on the box of tomatoes in my pantry. They are all over my facebook feed, and on commercial after commercial on the TV.
And just like every October, the backlash is fierce. It seems everyone hate's the color pink, or finds something abhorrent about the organization raising money, or furious that so much attention is going to this rather than that.
The advice columnist on Slate, who by the way is absolutely horrible at her job (read Carolyn Hax! She's brilliant) wrote a particularly snarky post about rejecting the pink ribbon crusade. Only she has no suggestions about what one should do instead. The smugness of it all is nothing short of offensive.
So much vitriol, no solutions.
So this is a hard time of year for survivors. We are constantly reminded of our disease while at the same time bombarded by people who are just sick of hearing about it.
Meanwhile, we don't know what causes this disease. We don't know how to cure those with metastatic cancer. I was one of the "lucky" ones, and I still had to go through six months of essentially poisoning my body.
So this October I am concentrating on things to celebrate. My sister's birthday, my husband's birthday, this amazing fall weather, the start of rehearsals for my new show, the fact that my father is still here. The fact that I'm here. That I get to mark another October, even if it's spray painted pink.
There is a pink ribbon on the milk in my refrigerator. And on the box of tomatoes in my pantry. They are all over my facebook feed, and on commercial after commercial on the TV.
And just like every October, the backlash is fierce. It seems everyone hate's the color pink, or finds something abhorrent about the organization raising money, or furious that so much attention is going to this rather than that.
The advice columnist on Slate, who by the way is absolutely horrible at her job (read Carolyn Hax! She's brilliant) wrote a particularly snarky post about rejecting the pink ribbon crusade. Only she has no suggestions about what one should do instead. The smugness of it all is nothing short of offensive.
So much vitriol, no solutions.
So this is a hard time of year for survivors. We are constantly reminded of our disease while at the same time bombarded by people who are just sick of hearing about it.
Meanwhile, we don't know what causes this disease. We don't know how to cure those with metastatic cancer. I was one of the "lucky" ones, and I still had to go through six months of essentially poisoning my body.
So this October I am concentrating on things to celebrate. My sister's birthday, my husband's birthday, this amazing fall weather, the start of rehearsals for my new show, the fact that my father is still here. The fact that I'm here. That I get to mark another October, even if it's spray painted pink.