Happy Halloween

The Real Breast Cancer Barbie

Breast cancer survivors have a love/hate relationship with the month of October and all the pink crap. While many of us are sick and tired of having pink ribbons shoved in our faces at every retail turn.... I think most of us also realize we have the pink ribbon to thank for the extensive research and attention breast cancer receives. Other lower-profile diseases are not so "lucky."

But Mattel's Pink Ribbon Barbie pushes many of us over the edge.



So, tongue-in-cheek, a YSC sister made her own "breast cancer barbie" a couple of years ago. Here are the photos, complete with her narration:

As requested with a place of her own:

Ladies here she is the real Breast Cancer Barbie (in progress)
You can't really see the dark circles under her eyes or her ashen colored cheeks and her mastectomy is not complete yet- the bondo has to dry, but I thought I'd let you know that I've been putting our thoughts into action.

From the new photos you can see that Barbie has gained weight considerably, predominantly in the hips, ass and pouch area. She is sporting a paper "modesty vest" and two drains and a gauze wrap tube-top bandage. She also has her lymphedema wrap, IV drip, port, and has had some blood work done. Her toe nails and finger nails are unfortunately turning black and there is some concern that she may loose a nail or two. She is leery of going to far away from the toilet, can't remember if she took her pills today and is depressed that she doesn't have ovaries and can't have a baby. She also found out that Ken cheated on her with a lady cop and that he's a coke head. Her path report is looking OK but the bills are piling up and she is too sick to work, but has to keep working to keep medical insurance. Hot flashes are keeping her up all night and she wonders if she should call her old flame GI Joe when he comes home on leave from Iraq- but will he still want her? Her sex drive is gone, she's scarred-up and bald and twenty pounds over weight. Her body hurts, she feels as if she is loosing her mind, she doesn't want to go anywhere or do anything. Yelled at Skipper for asking her if she wanted to go the Town House this weekend for a party, then cried afterwards. Drove pink Corvette to Jack in the Box for drive through burgers and a chocolate shake for dinner. Staying in tonight and watching trashy movies by self. Thank goodness she has a cat and the YSC for support.

French Dip for the Cure

Eat Red Meat. Raise Awareness.

If you order a french dip sandwich at the cafeteria in my building this month, for $3.95, the cafeteria will give $.95 to the Komen foundation.

95 cents.

Why not the whole buck?

Think Before You Pink

Pinkwasher: (pink’-wah-sher) noun. A company that purports to care about breast cancer by promoting a pink ribbon campaign, but manufactures products that are linked to the disease.

BCA uses the term “pinkwashers” to refer to companies that say they care about breast cancer by promoting a pink ribbon campaign, but manufacture products that are contributing to the epidemic. Yoplait, for example, asks women to support the breast cancer cause by eating yogurt. But the yogurt is made with dairy from cows that have been treated with the artificial growth hormone rBGH. There are numerous health concerns surrounding the use of rBGH, and breast cancer is one of them.

Car companies that encourage consumers to buy and drive cars in the name of breast cancer are also pinkwashers, as car exhaust contains chemicals that are linked to the disease. And, cosmetics companies that make products with parabens, phthalates, or other ingredients linked to breast cancer are pinkwashing when they put the pink ribbon on their products.

This October, Think Before You Pink is urging pinkwashers to clean up their act. Join us by asking Yoplait to go rBGH-free.

Think Before You Pink

Dying to Be Heard

Thoughts during this month of pink ribbons .......

January 1, 2003

Dying to Be Heard
Sharon Robbins
In Memorium
October 10, 2003



During the month of October we are bombarded with the message that early detection of breast cancer equals cure...that anyone surviving five years from diagnosis is, indeed cured. This year, I have decided to speak out. Like many other women, I believed that when my breast cancer was detected early and I had the most aggressive treatment available, I had done my job and could look forward to the rest of my life. I believed the early detection message. I was 45 years old. I was even pronounced cured by the doctor who was my oncologist at that time.

But like so many others...thousands of others every year...I was diagnosed with Stage IV metastatic breast cancer after celebrating that five year anniversary. After the initial shock, I was certain that I would be dead within eighteen months. That's what every article I could find on the internet said. That was over two years ago. I am one of the lucky ones. Up to this point, my cancer has responded well to treatment. I was even one of the ones who went into remission due to new drugs and therapies. But what about tomorrow? Like thousands of others, I will never be cured. Because, you see, cancer that has metastasized is not only deadly; it is a very crafty foe. It can mutate and learn how to get around the roadblocks that any given treatment throws in its path. Today it may be in your liver, tomorrow your spine. Like thousands of others, my only hope of continued survival is to have new drugs developed and new treatments that can stay one step ahead of my cancer. It doesn't have to be a death sentence. We can continue to live productive lives, but only if the research is there.

When survivors are discussed, no one ever hears about us. They don't want to hear about us. We are the hidden survivors. We are your wives, your mothers, your daughters. We are you.today or tomorrow. We are dying to be heard.

If breast cancer can truly now be considered a chronic illness, why are we still dying at a rate of more than 43,000 every year? It is a deadly disease, and a pretty pink ribbon cannot make it go away. We are in that success statistic if we have survived for five years. Some days we don't feel very successful.

We live with breast cancer every day of our uncertain lives until it finally takes us from our families and loved ones. If we are one of the lucky ones, that is often after years of debilitating treatment that makes the phrase quality of life absolutely ridiculous and has drained our families of any financial security they may have had. If we are fortunate enough to survive until we are eligible for Medicare, we face the knowledge that our prescription drug bill will be astronomical and we will no longer have medical insurance that covers it. If, and when, a new drug is finally approved by the FDA, it can be six months or more before Medicare will pay for it. How many women die in that six months because they can't afford the treatment? We are dying to be heard.

It is time to see more funding and emphasis for both first line and metastatic treatment, not just for awareness. There are now more graves from women who have died since 1991 from breast cancer than the total graves in Arlington Cemetery. Our doctors tell us that we don't have to worry about breast cancer until we are older. Is it acceptable to die just because we are over 50? I don't think so. I am not ready to die. As I write this, I am awaiting the arrival of my first grandchild. I would like to be here for her. But age isn't even the true story. Tell that story to the young woman who was diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer when breastfeeding her first child. Tell that to my stepdaughter who, at 33, and about to have her first child, looks at the future with fear because her grandmother, mother, and now her stepmother have all had stage IV breast cancer..each at a much younger age. I am the only one still here. Tell that to a husband who is now raising his two children alone, getting them ready to start first and third grade. They are dying to be heard.

43,000 of us dead every year. That is half the population of Henderson County, North Carolina, each year, every year. Imagine losing every single person in the county, in the space of two years. That is what breast cancer can do, and will continue to do until we look for answers. Not just slogans, real answers. We are dying for them to be found.

Please help speak for us. Contact your Senators and Congressmen. We need funding for breast cancer research, not just awareness campaigns. We are dying.

Click here.

Secrets

We all have them.

I enjoy reading PostSecret.com every Monday..... they post new secrets on Sundays.

These two seemed appropriate to share with you here.