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Is It Really “All About the Titties” on National No Bra Day (a.k.a. Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness Day)?

no bra day, #nobraday , #nobradayselfies , NOT breast cancer awareness, metastatic breast cancer awareness day, breast cancer, thirties, 30s, 30s, pinktober, Breast Cancer Awareness Month

For Real?? Is the pink ribbon pasted on this pic supposed to make this image less offensive?

Is It Really “All About the Titties” on National No Bra Day (a.k.a. Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness Day)?

Though it has been three years since I wrote “Put That Pink Can of Soup Down & Put Your Bra Back On,” and two since it was published on The Huffington Post, it continues to be featured on Facebook pages and in articles and blog posts, etc. around the world and I continue to receive a surprising number of emails regarding the post and its message(s).

There is good news and bad news here.

I’ll start with the positive.

I hope you know how much I have appreciated hearing from so many of you over the past few years.  I need to tell you that while reading through the comments and messages you’ve sent, there have been so many times when I have been deeply moved by the stories and/or kind words you’ve shared with me.

I’m honored that so many of you have taken the time to read and share the post/article. I’ve been stunned to learn how many of you agree with or at least understand/respect my feelings about pinkwashing, no bra days, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, etc.  Because I stand by my message, I’m grateful that my point of view is shared by many other men and women who have been personally affected by cancer and by a surprising number who’ve had no direct contact with the disease. And I’m thrilled each & every time I hear that the post has changed minds and has educated…because it was clear to me that education was needed three years ago.

That being said, I must admit that despite continued positive support for the post’s message, I was wondering if perhaps my words might be too harsh for this October.  I wondered if those of you who might be reading it for the first time would be shocked by it because maybe, just maybe, things had changed so much so that the post wouldn’t have any relevance on 2015’s National No Bra Day and Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness Day.

I figured that a lot could change in two or three years and I had hoped that the themes of the first article wouldn’t be pertinent anymore.

Did things change as I’d hoped? Did “the Internet” deserve a pardon for cleaning up its act? Could I congratulate the former “No Bra Day for Breast Cancer” offenders for turning things around?

Well, you need only look at the image at the top of this page for the answer.  It took me all of 5 seconds to discover that distasteful National No Bra Day “for Breast Cancer Awareness” or “to support breast cancer?” advertising is still running rampant on the Internet this year.

“What’s the big national no bra day, breast cancer awareness month, support breast cancer, set tatas free, october 13, #nobraday, pinktober, 2015, metastatic breast cancer awareness day, bilateral mastectomydeal?” you ask.  Well, for starters, National No Bra Day for Breast Cancer isn’t a real holiday. When/where/how did this event begin and who created the first No Bra Day? Good question. The origin is unclear, but as far as a handful of journalists and I can tell, this event was created by Anastasia M. Doughnuts (hmm, sounds like a real name to me!) through a Facebook event page in July 2011.  The first event had ~400,000 supporters, so it was repeated in July, 2012. Then someone had the bright idea to have a second No Bra Day annually on October 13th to piggyback on Breast Cancer Awareness Month and to bamboozle women into thinking that by removing their bras, they would be helping the breast cancer “cause”.  If you ask me, Anastasia was probably a horny guy who was looking to expand his soft porn collection with girl-next-door pictures of breasts.  Well, Mr. Doughnuts, kudos! Your plan worked! And it may have worked better than you expected based on what I’ve seen this October 13th. Frankly, it seems that some of these girls have no intention of making a difference with respect to breast cancer and may just be using “the cause” or the event to share sexy selfies of themselves.

Sadly, the movement seems to be growing.  This pseudo holiday has gone international with an estimated 43,000 participants on the “International No Bra Day” Facebook page alone.

And much to my chagrin, many of the photos I came across when I searched the web using keywords like No Bra Day Breast Cancer were far more risque than the image I borrowed in 2012/13.  I can safely say that some could even be classed as pornographic.  Dare I say it, but I think “No Bra Day” has sunk to new depths this year.

Rather than give the raciest photos any extra attention by posting them here, I’ll tell you that they are easily searchable if you are so inclined.  But I don’t think the people/groups who posted them deserve the acknowledgement of their efforts to make light of and to sexualize breast cancer.

national no bra day breast cancer awareness 2015 #nobraday #nobradayselfie, bilateral mastectomy, oct. 13, metastatic breast cancer awareness day pinktober

And despite the song & dance on some of the sites that host these images, trivializing and sexualizing breast cancer is exactly what they are doing.

Take the “No Bra Day, For Breast Cancer Awareness” Facebook page.  The page’s owner claims that No Bra Day for Breast Cancer Awareness is meant to be a silly event that “really isn’t about sexualizing or about the breasts.”  But this is his/her description of his/her No Bra for Breast Cancer Awareness page & event:

“Boobies are fantastic, we all think so! What better way to express the way we feel, than to support a full day of boobie freedom? Women are magnificent creatures, and so are their breasts. Let us spend the day unleashing boobies from their boobie zoos. Ladies, free your breasts for 24 hours, our perkiness should not be hidden! It is time that the world see what we’re blessed with!
Your breasts might be colossal, adorable, miniature, full, jiggly, fancy, sensitive, glistening, bouncy, smooth, tender, still blossoming, rosy, plump, fun, silky, jello-like, fierce, jolly, nice, naughty, cuddly, sexxy, perky, or drag the ground.”  Not wearing our bras for the day is about “trying to GIVE hope [to breast cancer survivors], ya know?”

Pardon my language, but all I can say is, What the f*ck?

I could go on with this one, but I think there is no need.  You get the picture.

To be fair, this is nothing compared to some of the no bra day for breast cancer pages/posts/publicity I’ve seen in the past 24 hours.

Some of the posts/words/images that surprised me most can be found on Twitter.  I say “surprising” because yesterday was really the first time I had spent more than 5 minutes on Twitter and what I saw is not what I would’ve expected from a very public and mainstream site where teenagers, grandmothers, TV hosts, breast cancer advocates, movie stars, doctors, journalists and just about every other social media user has an account, whether they are in the public eye or just your average Joe.  Naive as I may be, I expected better for this reason.  I know, I know…

The feed for #NoBraDay (a top trending topic all day yesterday) is an enlightening read.  [  <—-  sarcasm]

no bra day 2

I’ll post this pic from the #NoBraDay twitter feed since it isn’t real. But some of the “real” poses rival this one from the waist up…

I’m pleased to say there are women and men on Twitter who share my stance on the day.  But i’m disappointed to say there are far more who praised yesterday either because it meant they’d get to see naked or braless “boobies, titties, etc.,” or because it meant they could “set their own tatas, girls, boobies, etc.” free and show them to the world if they felt like it.

I won’t lie. Reading/seeing some of these tweets made me dream of locking a handful of these folks in a room with a bunch of topless breastless women (like me) so they could have a little glimpse into at least some of the most obvious possible physical realities of a breast cancer diagnosis in our boob-obsessed world.

I can’t tell you how many perverse comments I read from men and women, how many racy selfies I saw, or how many tweets combined both [like a tweet too provocative to post here — it features a girl’s selfie (including her breasts/nipples and face, etc.) and the words “rape my chest”].  I’m shocked by how many girls were willing to bare their naked breasts in sexy poses “for breast cancer?”

I’ve asked this before, but how the hell could this help anyone with breast cancer and how could it assist with finding a cure or even raising awareness of breast cancer.  If you ask me, these provocative photos and poses do raise awareness of something, but certainly not breast cancer.

I have more to say, more to share, but since National/International No Bra Day has come to a close — and since I’m exhausted — I’m going to wrap this post up.

Before I do, it’s important to tell you that this day, October 13th, is the one day each year dedicated to Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness.  This should be a post of its own (and I will try to address this important day in a future post), but I think it’s rather fitting that I just have time for a brief mention of it here. Why? Because Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness Day has once again been eclipsed by “No Bra Day.”

Thinking about how a fake holiday that sexualizes breasts and trivializes breast cancer in the name of advancing the breast cancer cause (whatever that is!) and raising awareness for a serious disease that kills ~40,000 women & men each year should turn your stomach.  But knowing that it almost completely diminishes/overshadows Metastatic Breast Cancer on the one day each year designated for MBC Awareness should make your skin crawl.  Give me a break!  One lousy day granted to educate patients and the public about Metastatic Breast Cancer, to recognize the over 100 women & men who die EACH DAY because of this disease, and to acknowledge those who are living with it 24/7.

A less revealing pic from Twitter's celebration of No Bra Day for Breast Cancer... #nobraday

A less revealing pic from Twitter’s celebration of No Bra Day for Breast Cancer… #nobraday

So, yes, it seems that National No Bra Day is still “All About the Titties” and not the women attached to them.  No pardons will be granted this year.

I’ll leave you with the photos I included in my “tweeted” response to the #nobraday & #nobradayselfie posts:

Thank you for reading… All my best to you…

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On the Radio

W and Lion

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, on the radio.  Sorry, I can’t get Donna Summer’s lyrics out of my head!

Good morning all…

I wanted to let you know that I will be on the radio tonight.

I almost didn’t mention it because I’m a bit rusty on the public speaking front.  Okay, a lot rusty.  But I reconsidered because I have a vested interest in the segment’s subject matter.  I have been asked to discuss breast cancer, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, pinkwashing, and events like “no bra days” on “The Afternoon Fix” radio show with Chuck Pullen on 1230AM WJOB in Chicago.

Just in case you are interested in tuning in, you can listen live on the station’s web site:

http://www.wjob1230.com/

at 6 p.m. Eastern

(As a head’s up, their stream is .pls format (Shoutcast).  You can listen with iTunes.  Or use Windows Media Player, but you will need to install this plugin ahead of time.  Or you can use WinAmp.)

A representative from Breast Cancer Action will follow me to discuss the “Think Before You Pink” Campaign.

I think it will be worth a listen…

If I don’t screw it up, that is!  But you’ve all given me the confidence to continue to stand up for what I / we believe in, so I’ll give it my best shot [she says with a nervous laugh]!

p.s. I know the photo of W running from the cardboard lion has nothing to do with being on the radio, but I thought you’d appreciate a laugh.  We saw the lion and couldn’t resist!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Delicate

cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer weekly photo challenge delicate breasts lump lymph nodes surgery

PowerPort (port) through which chemo and other medicines and fluids can be administered. Also great for lab draws and scans for which I.V. contrast is necessary. I was reluctant to have the port placement ‘surgery’ back on May 7, 2010. But I am so glad I wasn’t given a choice & was ‘forced’ to do it — it has been a lifesaver!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Delicate

If you would like to participate in The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge:

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/category/photo-challenges/

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/12/14/photo-challenge-delicate/

$50 Straws AND How Cancer Changes Everything

cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer mastectomy  hospital port

A different day. A different place. In a less hospitally-looking reclining chair at the Cancer Center.

This will probably seem like an odd post, but I’m going to present a snippet of my afternoon from two different perspectives for no other reason than “just because.”  Thanks for indulging me.

Scenario 1:

Across the room, a girl sits in a recliner with a small table beside her.  She is sipping a large cup of tea.  The tea bag tag dangles gently over the edge of her cup. The girl stares off into the distance and a smile crosses her lips.  What is she thinking about?  Perhaps she is remembering a lover from her college days?  Maybe she is picturing a basket of puppies?

Wait… judging from a frame most would describe as thin and a belly that is unmistakably large and rounded, it’s clear that she must be pregnant — she must be thinking of the baby growing in her womb.  Yes.

Her eyes light up as she thinks of the “baby duckling yellow” paint color she and her husband chose for the baby’s room this morning.  “It’s not too masculine, not too feminine, and it will be easy to paint over if we decide to change it when the baby gets a bit older.”  She bites her lip as she wonders how she is going to wait for the next three months to meet her new baby.  She has slipped her calendar out of her purse and is making a list of baby names now.  It’s the same list she and her husband have been coming up with every night before bed.  But she thinks she might have a revelation and “the one” might pop into her head today.

She continues her list.

She is mostly alone as she relaxes in the large open room filled with beds and curtains and chairs just like hers.  Mostly.  She has a number of visitors over the course of the next hour.  Each one stops by to chat briefly with her.  She laughs and talks with them individually.  And then her visitors move on, one by one.

She continues to sip on her unusually large cup of hot tea. Her final visitor is dressed in white and bears the name of her grandmother.  Her hands are full, but with what?  It’s hard to say.  The visitor dressed in white sits across from the girl and then leans toward her for an unusually long time.  She holds what looks like a long, shiny pin or needle in her hand.  Odd.  But when she stands up to walk away, her hands are empty and she and the girl are both smiling.  She now has something pinned to her chest — a flower perhaps?

Just as her name is called she looks at her list.  She is clearly pleased with her accomplishment and is excited to share this new name with her husband.  It was her grandmother’s name.

She slides gracefully out of the chair (well, as gracefully as a pregnant woman can) to meet the woman who beckoned her.  They walk happily down the hall together and slip into a room nearby.  The door closes behind them.

When they emerge, they are smiling and walking again.  The girl is stroking her belly, as if to comfort the baby inside.  She returns to her chair as the lady in white brings her a cocktail with one of those cute little paper umbrellas poking out from the rim of the glass. She relaxes for a bit longer before rising from her comfy chair, bidding adieu to her friends and walking out to greet her waiting husband.

————————————————

cancer in my thirties cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer 30s cartoon

Cartoon Credit: chibird.tumblr.com

Scenario 2:

I am sitting in a large, sterile room.  Across the way, I see a girl…or a woman, really.  She looks biologically young, but I can tell she has been weathered by experience.  Something tells me that she probably still thinks of herself as a girl in the quiet morning hours when everyone else is asleep.  So I will indulge her and call her “a girl.”  It’s the least I can do.

The woman, uh, girl, is sitting in a reclining hospital chair.  Beside her is a small table where alcohol swabs and some medical paraphernalia sit. She holds a large, lidded Styrofoam cup, the largest one I have ever seen, in her hands.  Dangling on the side of the cup I see a tea bag tag.  She looks at the bit of wisdom the tag has to dispense, rolls her eyes, and takes a sip from her straw.  Odd that she is drinking hot tea through a straw.  Maybe she’s one of those women who don’t want to stain their teeth so they drink their tea and coffee through straws?

Just then a nurse walks over to her and asks her to sign a form stating that she understands the risk of drinking this tea.  WTF?

Well, it’s not your average tea.  It’s tea that has been infused with a radiocontrast agent.  Is it radioactive tea?

The girl stares off into the distance and a smile crosses her lips.  She is thinking of a sandy beach in a warm place far away.  “If this is more cancer,” she thinks, “I am moving to that beach.”

She puts her hand on her protruding belly and secretly hopes one of the nurses will ask her if she is pregnant when she signs the next consent form.  It’s an odd thing to hope for, almost masochistic, really.  She pictures what she would say in response to the question.  “Of course I’m not pregnant.  I’ve been gutted.  Every part that makes me a woman (except the “V” one) has been stolen from me.  I am empty inside.  Dead inside.  And, oh, this?  It’s edema.  My belly is swollen with fluid.  No baby.  I’m here to see if it’s cancer in here, not a baby.  My fate was sealed at 33 when those lumps in my breast were written off as nothing.”

Of course no one asks her if she is pregnant.  They all know the answer.  They all know why she is here.

And she wouldn’t have the guts to say what’s on her mind, anyway.  She wouldn’t want to hurt or bewilder anyone.  She wouldn’t want to ruin anyone’s day.  So she thinks about what she would really say.  “Nope, just fluid.”

She snaps out of her daydream when a second nurse asks to see the port in her chest.  They’ll need it later.

She slips her calendar out of her purse and tries to recall the appointments she has scheduled for next week.  Her fuzzy chemobrain has made it impossible for her to remember much these days.  She soon finds herself drawing seagulls and starfish in the margins.  “Oh, to have my toes in the sand right now and to be anywhere other than here,” she dreams.

She shifts gears and makes a list of everything she needs to do when she leaves.  Her 3rd graders — twin boys — will be waiting for her.  It will be dinnertime.

She is mostly alone as she sits in the large open hospital room filled with curtains on tracks and not rods, hospital beds and hospital reclining chairs just like hers.  Mostly alone.  A number of nurses stop over to check on her progress with “the drink” or to ask her to sign a form.  She smiles and makes small talk with each of them.  And then her visitors move on, one by one.  She continues to sip on her unusually large cup of hot tea.  Through a straw.   That’s probably so she doesn’t spill the giant cup of lukewarm possibly radioactive tea on herself.

Her final visitor is dressed in white and bears the name of her long deceased grandmother.  Nancy.  Her Nanna was one of her most favorite people in the world.  She watched her die a painful death from cancer when she was 8 through 9 years old. “My kids are 8, too,” she thinks.

The nurse sets up a tray with everything she needs to access the girl’s port.

She holds a long shiny needle and asks if the girl likes to hold her breath or if she applied the EMLA cream in advance to make it hurt less.

The girl laughs, “No, no need.  Just go ahead.”  She has been poked and cut so many times it’s not even funny.

The needle punctures her upper right chest skin and enters her port.  Now they will be able to push the intravenous radiocontrast agent through her chest.

The nurse dresses her port with a tegaderm and gauze.  With the little yellow butterfly clip sticking against the transparent tegaderm, it almost looks as though the girl has a flower pinned to her chest.  An ugly flower, but a flower nonetheless.

Just as her name is called, she looks at her list.  She is already tired, but smiles at the thought of being able to sit down with her kids when she is done.

She drags her body from the chair to meet the woman who beckoned her.  They walk quietly down the hall together and slip into a room nearby.  The door closes behind them.

When they emerge, they are smiling faint smiles and walking again.  The girl is doing that thing she does — looking dizzy and as though she is going to hit the deck.  She strokes her sore belly.  The nurse asks her to lie down until she feels better and says that people who receive the contrast through their ports need to wait 10 minutes for observation before they can leave anyway.  The nurse brings the girl a drink.  This time it’s plain cola.  Nothing added.  The nurse puts a bendy straw in the Coke.  The straw wrapper bears the name of a famous medical supplier.  “Yikes, a straw from a medical company!  It probably cost $50,” she thinks.

When her 10 minutes is up, she is so ready to leave that she walks out in her disposable drawstring hospital pants and stuffs her slacks in her bag.  It’s time to go home.

———————————–

So I was sitting in one of those recliner-type hospital chairs drinking oral contrast in preparation for my CT scan when I started thinking about perspective.  Of course the “girl” above is me…

Thanks for reading… Your comments and “Likes” brighten my life…

Grateful Am I…

oopherectomy hysterectomy breast cancer cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com 30s incision liver lab

After not posting for a week, I thought I would put my concerns about poor liver function tests, leg and abdominal edema, and the words of the medical professionals who urged me to “get myself to the Emergency Room” this week aside and return with a post focused on gratitude.

A fellow blogger has honored my little blog with an “Illuminating Blogger Award” and I’d like to take a minute to acknowledge how thankful I am.

Many thanks to http://theretiringsort.com/!

breast cancer in my thirties cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com 30s

*********

The rules for accepting the award are as follows:

  • Leave a comment on the original award site
  • Share a random fact about yourself:  My dream job would involve saving sea turtles.
  • Choose 5 bloggers to pass the torch to. Here they are:

***

1.  http://bornbyariver.wordpress.com

2.  http://travelgardeneat.com/

3.  http://lesleycarter.wordpress.com/

4.  http://keepingitrealmom.com/

5.  http://clanmother.com/

Thank you, “The Retiring Sort!”  Thank you to the bloggers listed above (whose blogs brighten my days).  And thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and follow my blog!

Oh No, I’ve Been Robbed! Did Cancer Steal My Compassion?

cancer in my thirties young 30s hospital

Cartoon by Robert and Donna Trussel http://donnatrussell.com/cancer-cartoons/

So I spent Thursday night through Friday morning in the E.R. with one of my sons.  I was reluctant to go in, but his 106.2 degree fever and listlessness made it necessary.  Though no one likes the emergency room, I have a developed a particular and overwhelming distaste for the whole hospital scene.  And, sadly, this hospital overnight prompted me to realize how “jaded” I’ve become when it comes to the severity of symptoms and illnesses in general.  Call it another side effect of being a cancer patient.

What I am afraid to admit out loud — and even really hesitant to share in this, my somewhat anonymous blog, is that I am beginning to wonder if cancer is interfering with my ability to be the kind of parent and person I want to be (and the kind of parent/person I used to be).

While procedures and blood draws and surgeries and medications and side effects and…(well, you get the picture) have become the norm for me, they are not the norm for everyone.  And, fortunately, they are not the norm for my children.  But I sometimes lose sight of the fact that everyone hasn’t spent what amounts to months (when you add up all of my time as an inpatient and outpatient since my cancer diagnosis in April 2010) in hospitals and cancer centers for surgeries, life-threatening infections, chemo, radiation, appointments, monoclonal antibody infusions, port blood draws, tests and procedures.  Or that not everyone is waiting to find out if that lesion in their brain is malignant or if their liver function and lab values are so poor because the cancer may have metastasized to a vital organ.

cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer thirties 30s funny medical cartoons I see my new perspective reflected in my everyday life.  Someone will tell me about a symptom they’re experiencing or about their cold or papercut and I try to be supportive and kind.  In my mind, though, I sometimes find myself wandering off to thoughts of how upsetting it might be for them if they had to have their breasts cut off and their lymph nodes dug out, if they faced each day with a constant headache, if they had to manage life with lymphedema, or if they lived their lives with unrelenting neuropathy (a leftover gem from the chemo) that gets so bad that it interferes with their ability to concentrate/type/hold a glass.

Or when I hear a pregnant woman my age talking about heartburn or swollen ankles and I am consoling on the outside, but inside I am thinking about how the large masses in my pelvis and ovaries prompted two painful surgeries and the loss of what remained of all but one of my female parts (in case you are wondering, it rhymes with bagina).  And then I drift off to a mental picture of the baby girl I will never get to hold in my arms because:

a.) You need a uterus to have a baby — and ovaries and Fallopian tubes and a cervix lend something to the process, too.  But all of these things filled my gynecologic oncologist’s specimen jars and were sent off to a lab and probably a garbage bin somewhere.

b.) Who would allow someone with my medical history to adopt a baby?  As much as I would love to be here to raise a new little baby, let’s face it, I am clearly a flight risk.

I thought of a “c”.

c.)  I know surrogacy has gained popularity.  But that’s not even an option for me because my eggs were stolen.  Okay, they weren’t stolen.  But it feels like they were.

And I have that heartburn and those swollen ankles (and legs), too.  Two years of chemo and Herceptin messed up my kidneys and made edema a big problem for me.  And I have my dusty bottle of Nexium for my acid reflux disease, but I stopped taking it because I take so many pills that I’d rather look at those pretty purple capsules than ingest them.

cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer thirties 30s funny medical cartoons

Cartoon Credit: Robert & Donna Trussel
http://donnatrussell.com/cancer-cartoons/

The bottom line is, even though I want to feel sorry for you because you have a cold, inside I am dreaming of what it would be like if a runny nose and congestion were my biggest medical problems.  Not so deep down I am wishing I could just take some NyQuil, hop into bed, and wake up the next day and be all better.

This is NOT me.  This is NOT who I am.  I am was a kind and thoughtful person before cancer left my spirit beaten and bruised.  Even if I felt like I like was dying, I would put your illness ahead of mine.  I would comfort and take care of you.  I would ask what I could do to be there for YOU.  Even if I had just had surgery myself, I would gladly and altruistically chop vegetables and brown chicken for your homemade chicken soup.  And I would do it without a second thought.

Though my ovaries weren’t technically stolen, I feel like the deeply compassionate person I used to be was.

While this isn’t great news for most of the people in my life, it is worse news for my twin 3rd graders.  I fear that there will come a time when I devalue their medical experiences, their illnesses, their scrapes and bruises, their throat cultures and their trips to the doctor for a flu shot or a blood draw, or the sessions with the nebulizer to that help with their asthma.  And that’s just not good.

cancerinmythirties@yahoo.com breast cancer thirties 30s mom hugging roo baby hysterectomy death dyingSo I am trying my best to undo some of what the cancer has done.  I am making a conscious effort to put the severity of some of my experiences aside to look at things as they are for other people and to avoid comparisons.  I am trying to give my boys the special hugs they need for their scraped knees and to talk them through their fears of having blood drawn or shots given.  And, as was the case this week, I am putting my own exhaustion and pain and sickness aside (as much as I can, anyway) to care for these boys who need me.  Case in point — even though my brain shouted, “Don’t do it!” because I am leukopenic and neutropenic, I climbed into my son’s hospital bed to cuddle with him because he was worried about what was going to happen to him… While I can’t guarantee that it always will, my heart won this time.

I am really trying to do what counts for my kids.  But I may still look at you with envy when you tell me you have a cold.

*Special thanks to Donna & Robert Trussell for allowing me to use their fantastic cartoons*

PLEASE stop eating PLASTIC!

cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer thirties 30s young plastic

Please Try a Sandwich Instead!

After hearing yet another “young” person’s cancer story, I feel absolutely compelled to write this post.  It’s too late for me to prevent my cancer, but it may not be too late for you or your mother, sister, daughter, friend, wife, husband, son, father, aunt…

I am writing today to urge you to limit your intake of the harmful chemicals found in plastic.  Because the dangers of plastic use have been largely ignored by the powers that be, you probably ingest more chemicals than you even realize each and every day.

As a breast cancer patient diagnosed in my early thirties, I am literally sick cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer plastic mastectomy bpa fda garbageover this.  I am actually quite surprised that I haven’t posted about this topic sooner because it is something I think about every day.  Until I was aware of the danger (at some point after my cancer diagnosis), I ate and drank from plastic packaging at least as much as the average consumer.  I used plastic water bottles and those plastic travel coffee mugs all the time.  I left water bottles in the hot car and drank from them without a thought.  I consumed soups and other foods from cans, used plastic food storage containers, plastic wrap and plastic bags, and I didn’t think twice about handling store receipts coated with BPA (bisphenol A, a hormone-disrupting chemical often found in plastics and register receipts and linked to cancer, obesity, heart disease and other diseases).

cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer awareness pink ribbon mastectomy illnessCan I blame my cancer on my exposure to the chemicals in plastics and other products?  No, probably not entirely.  But do I think this played a role in encouraging my illness?  Yes, definitely.  As a young person with no family history and no risk factors for breast cancer, I feel pretty justified in pinning some of the blame on an environmental cause, especially since I am in a segment of the population that has seen an increase in breast cancer rates since plastic use became so widespread.

Plastic is EVERYWHERE.  Food, drinks and personal care items like lotions and cosmetics are packaged in plastic more often than not.  This makes chemical exposure almost inevitable.  I have tried to eliminate plastic from my life (and from my children’s lives) but have determined that this would be far too costly and time consuming for tired ol’ me.  In the world we live in today, plastic exposure is virtually unavoidable.  So I have refocused my energy on limiting our plastic use.

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Some of my favorite ways of reducing our plastic exposure:

-We drink from glasses and mugs whenever possible.  I have recycled most of the kiddie cups that once filled the shelves of my

cupboard (and I wish I could take back the years I used plastic sippy cups for the kids).  We make a concerted effort to use non-plastic drinking vessels now.

-I reuse my empty glass Snapple bottles.  I fill them with water (and other beverages) and carry them in lieu of a plastic water bottle.  I  usually keep one or two with me and have a couple in the fridge so I can just grab them and go.  Of course you can do this with any glass bottle.  Not only will you be making a healthier choice for yourself, but you’ll also be making a good choice for the environment.

-We store food in glass and never in plastic.  At first this was really difficult because I just had a few glass storage containers.  cancerinmythirities.wordpress.com breast cancer plastic bpa glassI made makeshift containers by putting plates on top of bowls as lids — not a good use of space!  But I have since asked for Pyrex for Christmas and birthdays and my little collection is growing.

-We have reduced our use of canned foods.  BPA is often found in the lining of food and baby formula cans.

-I avoid leaving cosmetics, lotions and other liquids packaged in plastic in the car.  You may have heard the warning about not leaving water bottles in the car for the same reason — heating plastic encourages the release of toxic chemicals.

-We don’t use “steam in the bag” foods like frozen vegetables.

-Whenever glass is available (for food, beverages, personal care products), I’ll choose it over plastic, even if it costs a little bit more.  We are on a REALLY tight budget, but I think it’s worth it. cancerinmythirties.wordpress.com breast cancer plastic carcinogens chemicals Unfortunately, though, it’s not usually a choice — glass is often hard to find.  Even the organic hormone-free milk at my grocery store comes in a plastic container!

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Why am I publishing a post like this?  It is not because I’m having a bad day and need to vent (that’s just a coincidence!).  It is not because I am trying to blame someone for the hell I have been through in the past few years.  It is because I want to save someone else from the pain and the loss I have experienced and will likely continue to experience.  It is because I want to save YOU.

While I realize you may not be able to nix plastic from your life entirely, I hope you will please do your best to cut out as much plastic exposure as possible.

And PLEASE ask your friends and family and everyone you care about to do cancerinmythirties.wordpress.org breast cancer squirrel nuts plastic carcinogen bpa fda mastectomythe same.  If you are worried about sounding like an alarmist or a nutcase or a conspiracy theorist, take comfort in the fact that there is enough evidence to support the cancer – plastic link to validate your plight.

You can also consider joining an email writing campaign to urge companies to use safer packaging.  Or sign a petition urging the FDA to ban the use of packaging that contains carcinogens.  Here’s one asking the FDA to ban BPA, a carcinogen found in cash register receipts, in many of the plastics we eat and drink from, and in the bodies of more than 80% of Americans!  It will just take a minute and could make a big difference:

http://www.change.org/petitions/fda-get-cancer-causing-chemicals-out-of-all-food-packaging-now

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I googled “breast cancer plastic” and at the top of the list of search results (other than images of plastic ‘breast cancer awareness’ items — that’s another blog post!), I found an article that was featured on one of my favorite go-to sites for breast cancer information and support — breastcancer.org.  While I love bc.org and think the article is great for creating awareness, I do disagree with one section.  It lists “safe” plastics, but based on my research, it seems there may be no truly “safe” plastics.  Plastic = Chemicals.  Right now the focus is on BPA which was long considered “safe” by the FDA (we’re talking half a century here!).  I believe it’s just a matter of time before more of these chemicals are studied and deemed carcinogenic.  In the meantime, here is the breastcancer.org article:

http://www.breastcancer.org/risk/factors/plastic

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Of course I hope you will share this post with everyone you know and I hope you will work to reduce your chemical consumption.  But I know that’s a lofty dream in today’s world.  So, please do whatever you can.  Whether you do one of these things or all of them, know that I am proud of you.  

If we can prevent even one more person from getting sick, we’ve done something good.

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If you have an idea for a way to reduce plastic use, please share it with us!   Thanks!