Depression Talk

I’m moving away from the topic of Depression and Insanity related issues for a moment here to talk about breast cancer.

October is breast cancer awareness month. Squeeze a boob, save a life! What could be more simple?

The problem is, breast cancer is not always that simple. Take DCIS, for example. Ductal Carcinmoa In Situ is a type of breast cancer that is very difficult to find. It can take years, even decades, before DCIS develops into tumors that can be felt with a simple squeeze of the boob; and, depending on the nuclear grade (harmfulness) an individual has, life expectancy or chance for recurrence varies.

I bet you’re wondering why a 23 year old Child and Youth Worker knows so much about DCIS.

Because my Mom is a survivor.

Last year was probably one of the worst years of my life. I’ll spare you the gory details in this post, because unlike so much of what I write, this is not about me. Shocking, I know.

My mother was diagnosed with DCIS last year after a suspicious mammogram and a stereotactic core needle biopsy of the suspicious area. She managed to get away with a lumpectomy (Where they removed the piece of the breast with the cancer in it, rather than the whole breast) and radiation treatment.

My overall experience with cancer was crappy for a lot of reasons. For one, MY MOM HAD CANCER. Her surgeon, while gifted, was a complete and total ass (Which I’m supposed to stop saying on the Internet, but its true. Anyhow.). My mother’s radiation oncologist was also a bit of an ass (And by a bit, I mean a really, really large ass with warts and those long, nasty ass hairs all over it.) Our doctors at home were wonderful: My mother was two weeks from suspicious mammogram to biopsy, and two more weeks from diagnosis to surgery. After that, all hell sort of broke loose and we ended up waiting sixteen weeks for radiation.

But I’m focussing on the bad things here.

What I really want to focus on is all the wonderful things people did for our family. People sent their cards, their love, and their well-wishes in droves. People we didn’t even know came to us with their own stories of cancer, some positive and some not so positive. People sent flowers and gifts: A girl I worked with, who had never even met my mom, gave her a beautiful crystal bracelet made especially for breast cancer awareness. My boss at the time gave me all the time off in the world so that I could be at home for surgeries and treatments.

Some people find the media attention given to breast cancer a little overbearing. Sometimes I, too, feel that I’ve seen one too many pink ribbons in my day.

However, it is campaigns like these, like making October Breast Cancer Awareness month; when cowboys wear pink in the Pro Bull Riding Championships; when Lance Armstrong comes forward with his own struggles; where thousands upon thousands run for the cure each year; and where there are so many other people working so very hard to find a cure…

These are the campaigns that make friends and family more aware, more understanding, and more willing to come forward with the support that my family so very enjoyed last winter.

So, yeah. Bring on the pink ribbons.

Let’s be aware, shall we? Overinundated or not, sometimes people need a little push. And that we all get that push if we need it, that’s good.