Finally, a day when neither Jim nor I have to go anywhere. I've been lounging around on the couch hoping this will somehow translate into renewed energy for the week. Jim picked up the Boston Globe for me when he went out to the transfer station and to pick up chicken feed. I pulled out the shopping circulars as usual to throw them into the recycling, but ARRRHHGG, not before being reminded of the dreaded annual pink ribbon festooned crap fest that is about to begin. Thanks to Office Max and the Komen Foundation I could, if I wanted, deck out my new office in pink and pink ribbons right down to the printer.
Although the "Shop for the Cure" concept might at first glance seem like a good thing, after all what's wrong with having a portion of profits going to breast cancer research? There's a lot wrong with this actually. I'll say more about this on a less tired night, but for now I'll just say that pink ribbon mania is a huge distraction and has turned the concept of increasing awareness about a disease that kills over 40,000 women in the U.S. every year into...surprise...another marketing opportunity and occasion for shopping! Yes, some money will go to research but not enough. For women who have had breast cancer, especially someone like me, diagnosed with locally advanced breast cancer, and living with uncertainty, October, aka Breast Cancer Awareness Month, is a month from hell- a hell decorated by Barbie. It's a great big pink festooned reminder of things I would rather not think about so much, although I may talk about them quite a bit here. Pink is the color of misfortune and life turned upside down, the color I want kept out of my face.
I am still tired from having that second mastectomy and I need to get to bed and rest up for the work week ahead. Let's just say that I am going to "celebrate" breast cancer awareness month in my own way, specifics to be determined. Vamos a ver.