No news is good news

No, really it is.

I'm not a writer. I write to let out stress, to work through problems, etc. I talk to myself too. In fact I do that more, but then I forget what I said and I'm still stressed and the problems are still un-worked through. So I make myself write.

So when I am not stressed and things are going well, I often don't think about writing anything. And lately things are going well for me, so I've been absent more.

Except today. Because I just read a really good post on Band Back Together. I'm not saying the guy was a great writer... not that he isn't. I'm just saying that the post makes an important point: October shouldn't be "Breast Cancer Awareness Month". It should be "Cancer Awareness Month".

That may sound odd, coming from someone whose only sister, as of next month, will be a 10-year survivor of breast cancer. But she's not the only important person in my life who has been affected by cancer... just the closest relative. But cancer has touched many people who are important to me:

• My maternal grandmother, as well as her oldest daughter, both were breast cancer survivors. They both have since died, but not of cancer.
• My paternal grandfather died of some sort of cancer in 1974. I barely remember him. I was 11. My last memories of him involve him lying on a twin bed in their dining room because he was lying down all the time, but wanted to be out where he could see people.
• My mom's twin brother died last year of prostate cancer which gradually turned into everything cancer. He eventually refused dialysis and went home to die the way he wanted - with his last few months full of special memories and time spent with his 7 children and numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He even took them all (every single descendent gathered from all over the US) on a week-long family trip to the Outer Banks to leave some final happy memories.
  
• His wife, who was also my dad's first cousin on both sides of the family, died about a half dozen years earlier of brain cancer. They tried to fight it but nothing worked.
• A year ago, one of my cousins was diagnosed with colon cancer. He has so far been fighting it very successfully, in spite of the severity of his case.
  
• Another cousin's adopted daughter is in the early stages of breast cancer treatment right now. She just turned 40.
• One of my very closest friends has had cancer several times, and he isn't the same person now that I first got to know 1o years ago. He tries to be, but thinking you are going to die changes you, even if you survive. I still love him now, but I miss who he used to be.
  
• A friend from both church and school who was several years older than me - someone I had a huge case of hero-worship on when her family moved to our area when I was only 6 - successfully fought Hodgkin's lymphoma twice. The first time was after her son was born. The treatment led to her daughter being born with an extra finger on each hand. After fighting it twice, the third time took her from us. She couldn't have been much over 30 when she died. I went to her wedding and I went to her funeral.
• A co-worker has had Hodgkin's lymphoma twice too. So far, so good with her. I hope that continues.
  

There are more, but you already knew that. We all have more, far too many more. And while breast cancer affected more of the above than any other cancer, the other cancers had a much more dire effect.

I suppose the part of the hype with breast cancer is that it is so prevalent. Perhaps another part is that it is often fought successfully, so it feels good to support the fight... you're not fighting a losing battle that way. But let's focus on all of the above, and maybe we can win more battles instead only choosing to fight the winning one.

Daffodils

I love daffodils. They are my favorite flower. As one of the earliest blooming flowers in my garden, as well as one of the most prolific and easily grown, they represent a sign of ongoing life to me.

Every year they appear on schedule... generally there are even more than the year before. They grow in an amazing array of colors and styles... we're not stuck with the old yellow standbys any more... I have daffodils in shades ranging from white to peach to orange, as well as some beautiful double daffodils that are a beautiful white & yellow combination.

This week The American Cancer Society held it's annual Daffodil Days. They choose daffodils as a symbol of hope.

Hope. Ongoing life. I think we both share similar perspectives.

Five years ago, my sister found a lump in her breast. She had it checked and was told it was a cyst. A month later it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, so they were probably correct in that diagnosis.

A few months after that, she found another lump. Unfortunately this one occurred immediately following the serious accident of her oldest son, so she just assumed it was another cyst. After all, she had been given the all-clear only six months earlier.

She was wrong.

Three months later, when she finally had the lump checked, it had grown to the size of a walnut. Yes, in only three months. Apparently she has some genetic marker that, while not making her more prone to breast cancer, does make cancer more likely to grow incredibly quickly if she gets it.

At Thanksgiving of 2001, she had a complete masectomy and a year of aggressive treatment for her breast cancer.

Due to her son's situation and all of the ongoing medical treatments they both faced, she chose to not have reconstructive surgery. She just didn't feel she could handle another surgery at that point.

She is my inspiration. I'll admit it... I can be superficial. She really isn't at all. She has always been a tomboy... I'm the priss.

She once commented, within my range of hearing, that I was "the pretty sister". Yet, occasionally I'll cross paths with her high school friends (who are all 10 years older than me), and they will immediately say that I have GOT to be her sister. When I look in the mirror with a second mirror, to view my profile, I see her immediately. We look alike. Amazingly so.

And yet we don't. Like I said, I can be superficial. I'm determined to not have her figure when I reach 50 in too few years. I don't want to look 50 when I reach 50. I don't go out in public without doing my hair, and generally my makeup as well. I'm not picky about clothing labels, but I am totally picky about styles... they have to be me. And I like to show skin. Her? She's far more modest. Her skirts are shin-length. Heck, she even swims in shorts and a tshirt instead of wearing a swimsuit. I LIKE my bikinis!

Yes I have a point with the above two paragraphs. She chose not to have reconstructive surgery. I can't imagine facing life with my breasts cut off. I would feel amputated. And then to willingly choose not to try to put them back as close to normal as possible? To me that's a foreign concept.

And I'm totally proud of her for facing cancer the way she did. She faced it as a winner. And in just a few months, it will be 5 years since her diagnosis and she's still a winner.

So yesterday I bought my daffodils. I have them on my kitchen counter. I look at them every time I walk through the kitchen.

And, as the American Cancer Society intended, I hope.

I hope for a day when sisters don't have to cry for sisters who find out they have breast cancer.

I hope for a day when women don't have to add that sister to the list of relatives with breast cancer that she gives her doctor... the list that also included her aunt and grandmother.

I hope for a day when women don't have to fear whether they will be the next one on that list.

I hope for a day when mothers don't have to decide between their own treatment and the treatment their child needs, after realizing there aren't enough hours in the day to manage both.

And I hope for a day when women can live their entire lives with their breasts intact. Mine included.