October. First I think of Michael Myers with his long butchers knife, then the sickly-sweet smell of rubber masks, and crunchy leaves and dark forests. Then I think of candy corn and caramel squares getting stuck in the rivets of my rocky-mountain molars. Then somewhere along the road to Halloween I’m reminded, by Pink-Ribbon Mania, that October is also Breast Cancer Awareness month. Something about the corporatization of philanthropy through branding t-shirts, tweezers, and pocket-mirrors with a self-important “I donated!” symbol numbs my emotional-capacitors; an awareness month should really inspire action, not distance from the subject – the Fuck Cancer Movement gets it.

The core message of connection and communication with older family members about the realities of the disease reaches beyond the pink-ribbon consumer effort, and into a more fundamental shift in conversation – from value in dollars, to reminding each other to be aware by sharing life experience, suggesting check-ups and getting through it together. 983 posts and counting – you or someone you know might feel really glad to get it off their chest. Not to take anything away from donating, the site is a good venting post and brings up some interesting patterns in the lack of early-diagnosis.

http://www.letsfcancer.com/home.html#/say-it/cloud/entry/1121/

By Shelley Budd