Pink

Time to weigh on Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

All the pink ribbons. Pink products. Pink yogurt lids. Pink shoelaces on NFL players. It probably all adds up to a net good.

I couldn't find a report of how much money is made for research through the sale of "pink." I do know that the pink ribbon is not patented, so we probably just take a company on its word when it says that a certain amount of money is donated with each sale of pink.

But regardless of the Benjamins, this whole "awareness" thing is probably, overall, good in that "awareness" is a code word for "make it OK to talk about."

And if it's OK to talk about breast cancer, and make the idea of self-examinations and yearly mammograms very commonplace, then probably a lot more breast cancer is found a lot earlier in the game.

For instance, I'd like to know if anyone ever told my mother to examine herself starting at age 18. In the shower stalls of my college dorm, there were waterproof cards with not only the reminder to check, but a diagram on how to do the checking.

50 years ago, did women check themselves?

I'd like to think that every woman I know today checks herself regularly. Why wouldn't we? We hear about it all the time.

And so do the men of the country, even more so thanks to the NFL. Good that they do. Because for each woman who finds a lump, there's probably a man around who will force her out of denial and make her get it checked out.

Bryan kind of made me make my appointment. I think I would have let it linger for a few months out of dread over what the news would be. I explained this to Bryan and he said, "That's the worst attitude you could possibly have. Make the appointment."

And, of course, if you're a woman under 40 with no family history of breast cancer, the only way a lump in your breast is going to get found is if you find it yourself, because you won't be getting a mammogram at your yearly physical.

So, yes. Awareness. Very good indeed.

But here are a few additional thoughts:

My neighbor, Stephanie, is a cervical cancer survivor, still dealing with the aftermath. Do you know what she says when she hears about the high school team in Arizona who wore pink jerseys and then auctioned them off?

She says, "Where's the teal and white?"

What's that? Teal and white? There's a teal and white ribbon out there? Yes. It's for cervical cancer awareness.

(By the way, if you see a pink ribbon, don't assume it's for breast cancer. It might well be for cleft palate.)

Her point being, of course, that breast cancer gets an awful lot of attention. But who ever talks about cervical cancer?

I see her point. Probably one reason for the disparity is that there are about 190,000 cases of breast cancer each year. And about 12,000 cases of cervical cancer.

And the good news is that the survival rate of cervical cancer shot through the roof once it became medical practice for women to have regular pap smears, which of course, increased early detection.

But I think an additional reason for the focus on breast cancer is that breasts are such a big deal to everyone. Either you've got 'em or you really like them on other people. And if you don't fall into one of these two camps, you at least probably have a mother who has breasts.

But the cervix? Who even uses that word outside of childbirth class? No one has any thoughts or feelings towards the cervix.

Also, we might think that breast cancer warrants all the attention because the treatment of it is so very horrifying. Not only is there chemo and radiation--hey, most cancer rolls that way--but in nearly all cases there is either the carving up or cutting off of the breast. And a lot of times, after the carving comes the eventual cutting off anyway.

Pretty horrifying. If we are still here 500 years from now, medical practitioners are going to look back at the practice they was we look back at the unfortunate amputations of 200 years ago. That's the best they could do at the time. . .

Treatment for cervical cancer? Very horrifying as well.

Two words: internal radiation.

Folks. I'd rather have a breast lopped off than go through that.

So why not make it "Women's Cancer Awareness Month" and remind women to get their pap smears as well?

Next thought:

Stephanie should not be too jealous. It's not like anyone is giving out discounts to breast cancer patients. ("For October only! Young women shoved into menopause by their breast cancer chemo eat at Denny's at the Senior Citizen's rate!")

How do I feel when I see a car with a pink ribbon magnet on it? Do I feel especially supported? No. It mostly makes me sad. I wonder whose cancer is behind that magnet. And when I see one on a minivan?? I think, "Oh, no, I hope it's not the mother of the kids in that van. . ."

But mostly why seeing all the pink does nothing for me personally is this: As a post-surgery woman in the midst of treatment, there's no thinking about breast cancer without also thinking about breasts.

They're not just mammary glands, as I've written.

They are a very big deal on many different levels.

And if you find it vaguely annoying to see supermodels on magazine covers--who you know have been plasticized and the airbrushed--when you're walking around in your normal skin, try doing it after you've had a breast removed.

If the Powers That Be really wanted to take a stab at breast cancer awareness, and being supportive to those of us walking the walk, and making a difference in public perception, then maybe the NFL could put sweatshirts on their cheerleaders for the month.

Or maybe, say, the GQ's of the country could take a month off from peddling flesh, and put together a cover that's actually worthy of a gentleman.

Talk is cheap, and so is pink.