The Pinking of October

I never liked the idea of fighting cancer either. We fight so many things and it’s not always the most creative or productive way to deal with problems. When my mother had cancer, we wanted to help her through it. We negotiated with it – it was always going to have the last word. I am so glad that many of my friends negotiate their way through breast cancer and I’d so much prefer if they didn’t have to.

I’m working with the Women’s Equality Party Health Group and among other things, we’re looking at why women’s illness is so often diagnosed late. The structural reasons why although women live longer, they live so often in ill-health.

So I’ll add one to Stella’s plea, get active in the positive campaign to create a society where the way we are living means that we can take time to get to a doctor in time, when we need to, ALL of us. And a society that makes it an article of certainty and principle that when we need to see one, there will be a doctor available – FREE.

Not Writing But Blogging

Oh dear. I just realised it’s October, aka breast cancer awareness month.  A whole month of pinking up something that is neither pretty nor pink. Sigh.

Here’s what I hate about it :

  • comedy  references to ‘boobs’/’tits’ – neither word is relevant, it’s breast cancer. Men get it too. Men (usually) have neither boobs nor tits. It’s BREAST cancer. If you can’t say the word, then maybe work on that.
  • social media full of secret hearts/bra colour or size memes which do nothing for actual awareness
  • cancer-anthropomorphising phrases. Fighting it, kicking it, standing up to it. It’s a disease, not a person. We deal with it better by being honest about it.
  • stories of ‘brave’ ‘battles’. gah.
  • If you want to do something of value, there are dozens of brilliant charities who could benefit from your money and/or your time. Go for it. Pink has nothing to do with…

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