A ten point update
What to do and what not to do during Breast Cancer Awareness Month as advised by a breast cancer patient
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month — and all pink washing aside — it is really important to take some time to center an illness that kills mostly people who are not cis men.
But also — fuck your pink ribbon.
(And I am trying this thing out where I don’t refer to people who have been through breast cancer treatment as breast cancer “survivors.” People ask me, “So are you cured?” They want me to say Yes. I say No. No one is “cured” of breast cancer — you’re just lucky to outlive its recurrence. I will forever be a breast cancer patient because I will always have to schedule followup appointments.
(So am I a “survivor” — ? Yes, a survivor of many things. But survivor is not my sole identity. So therefore, I am a self identified breast cancer patient.)
One: DO NOT — under any circumstance — buy your friend who is a cancer patient something with a pink ribbon on it. Unless you are my mom. And I only allowed it that one time because my friend Aja really enjoyed the calendar with the pink ribbon piggy on it.
Two: DO give yourself a breast exam, schedule your regular mammogram, light incense at your altar, consult your life coach — whatever you do to monitor your breast health.
This is how to give yourself a breast exam.
Three: DO NOT make assumptions about what a breast cancer patient looks like. We are many different ages and races and genders and abilities. Do not make assumptions about what a patient’s breast cancer means to them. For some it is a devastation they will never recover from, for others it is the beginning of new things, and all experiences are valid and justified.
Four: DO use intentional, inclusive language when describing breast cancer patients.
Five: DO make space for your breast cancer patient friends. For us our awareness of the illness is only too profound.
Six: DO NOT let doctors talk you out of seeking scans and tests because you are “too young.” If something feels wrong, trust your body and trust your intuition. And you know what? Do not put up with any doctor who makes you feel anything but heard and seen and cared for.
Seven: DO get excited for Halloween. HALLOWEEN BITCHES!!!
Eight: DO NOT be afraid to ask questions, but do be mindful of what you ask, and do not expect any answers.
Nine: DO prioritize giving to individual patient and grassroots cancer organizations rather than corporate charities.
Two organizations that directly impacted me are Hair to Stay and Camp Koru.
Hair to Stay provided the subsidy that made cold cap therapy affordable. With cold cap therapy I kept my hair through a brutal course of chemotherapy, and keeping my hair was integral to the success of my treatment. They are hosting a fundraising gala in San Francisco in early November called Hair to Stay the Diva Way. Please consider making a donation.
Project Koru is a week long camp that helps young cancer patients heal with community and sports. During Project Koru’s snowboarding camp in Oregon Spring 2017, I not only solidified my riding skills, I was gifted a family. It proved to be such a crucial part of my healing. The organizers of Project Koru provide everything but the airfare for campers. I hope to attend their surfing camp in Hawaii. Please consider making a donation.
Ten: DO live life. Cancer is sometimes just shitty luck of the draw. You can’t predict this shit. The only thing you have is the present — and not to get all woo on you, but take it from someone who might still not live to see her forties — the present truly is a gift.
Never Tell Me the Odds is a series of short nonfiction based on and surrounding my battle with a rare and aggressive form of breast cancer at the age of thirty-one while keeping my hair on my head.
