October, 2025.

It's been a minute since I wrote anything here. Well, here we are. October again. Or "Pinktober." While I TOTALLY get it, sometimes a lot is just a LOT. I've often wondered who the marketing people are who pushed breast cancer to the top (over the top......) of the marketing campaign food chain. 

For those who have not known me for 27 years, October is also what I consider my "cancerversary."  Another word I'd like to strike from the English language. October 23,1998 to be precise.  That is the date of my surgery, the day my world imploded.  I don't recall my exact diagnosis date, July sometime. 

It blows my mind that people are still dying from breast cancer. It feels like treading water, working so hard to go nowhere. And I do still feel that better treatment (I am loath to talk "cure") for one cancer comes from research on another. I'm sure there are stats to that effect, I have not researched it. 

For me, it's 27 years. The survivor's guilt is particularly strong this year.  I have friends or loved ones of friends battling a variety of cancers: Stage 4 colon, Glioblastoma, Triple Negative Breast Cancer, Esophageal, and Melanoma. All but the last two are well under 50. Not that 60 or 70 is a fine age to get cancer, but the trend is disturbing. 

Cancer is a real fuck. It cares not about family, money, health, etc. My friend with esophageal cancer implored me to tell everyone I can reach to NOT ignore any symptom, to not brush it off as anything other than some sinister cloud about to unleash all holy hell. I say this not to scare you (well, maybe a little) but EARLY DETECTION IS MISSION CRITICAL. 

You can read the list, and ages of the people afflicted. This shit is life altering, life disrupting, and in some cases life..............well, you know. DO. NOT. IGNORE.

So, getting back to survivor's guilt. I often wonder WTF is so special about me. The people in my "list" are all loved, needed, amazing, have already had their share, et al. Maybe I'm just that ornery. I danced with the devil, maybe he got tired of me stepping all over his toes. Here's maybe what I bring to the party, a big mouth:

KNOW YOUR OWN BODY
DO NOT IGNORE CHANGES (If you are lucky enough to get a sign)
BE YOUR OWN ADVOCATE (If you are expecting the health care system to do that, come here so I can slap some fucking sense into you!!)
ASK ALL THE QUESTIONS
GET SECOND AND THIRD OPINIONS until you are comfortable that you have the right info, and a plan. 
HOPE FOR THE BEST, PREPARE FOR THE WORST

Yep, laying down some cold-ass truth on this beautiful October 1. Because I want to see you here next year.....................

Love,

Me.




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