An elegant, expensive chocolatier in my hometown just sent me an email advertising a special offering for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. It’s a pink box filled with sixteen domed pink candies, each with a dot — brown, white or yellow — centered on top. Like a box of breasts, all nestled in pink. Ten percent of the profits from these $48 boxes of candy will go to a local breast cancer awareness organization.
People mean well.
The cake-filled chocolates are bound to be scrumptious, as every bite I’ve tasted from these artisans has been. And certainly, local organizations that support patients with breast cancer deserve all the funding they can get.
“Oh, how nice,” a friend said, as I described it to her. “Wish I’d known to send it to you.”
I held back the snarky comments I’d been about to make about boob candies because she, too, meant well. Still, I’m glad she didn’t send the box.
October, the month when I was born and my favorite time of year, brings with it a complex set of emotions. One is gratitude, for having survived breast cancer twice. Another is a kind of PTSD — where awful treatment memories seep out from the compartment in my brain where they’re most often locked away. It doesn’t help that every trip to a grocery store winds up with a clerk cheerily asking if I’d like to “donate to breast cancer” (no, I think darkly, I wouldn’t give breast cancer a dime). But I add a couple of dollars to the till, hoping it will go toward research.
I need no reminders, pink or boob-like, to be aware of this disease. But there they are throughout October — all the pink ribbons. The pink packaging on everything from paper goods to dog food. The walks for the cure, the articles and the ads. Because I, too, mean well and want to support my fellow survivors, I’ve been part of all of these at one time or another. (I wrote a whole chapter of my novel, “Almost Family,” on this, and here I am writing about pink stuff again when I could be out taking a walk).
I do hope that, like Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving, Breast Cancer Awareness observances don’t start creeping ahead into September. I guess the confectioner sent out its pink box ad so that people could order before October arrived. I hope that’s the case. Regardless, I’m going to focus on the turning of the leaves and marking another birthday, healthy. Happy October!
This story was written and submitted by Ann Bancroft. The article reflects the views of Bancroft and not of CURE®. This is also not supposed to be intended as medical advice.
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