As a Leo, a summer girl, and beach bum extraordinaire … I spend my days between April and October chasing salt; looking for any and every opportunity to inhale the sea air and bury my toes in the sand. Even on my frequent business trips, if I know I am in the general proximity of a coastline - you best believe I’m going to seek it out. I find peace amongst the foam and center myself collecting shells and making drip castles. But like the sunset signals evening, the leaves begin to change color and the pumpkin spice flavoring assaults the grocery shelves. Shortly thereafter the pink ribbons follow suit, and I know it will be a long, cold, haul until I’m able to chase salt again.
This particular October marks my 15th as a survivor. I thought it would get easier, but it really hasn’t, we just manage to peacefully coexist until I start planning my Thanksgiving menu. But I miss the old Octobers. The Octobers that existed before 2007. The ones not violated by the pink militia. So here is my PSA for all of you, think before you pink. Because if all this racing for the cure, shopping for the cure, and licking yogurt lids for the cure actually worked … WE WOULD HAVE A CURE! Be cognizant of where your pink dollars are going. Ask the uncomfortable questions. The safe bets: Metavivor, BCRF, and LBBC. You know what’s even better? Giving to a charity in your own community affiliated with a cancer center or gifting meals to a local family of someone going through cancer treatments … any type of cancer treatments. Because regardless of where it strikes - cancer sucks.
Listen, I’m lucky and I know it, and I hope to have many, many more Octobers to bitch about but I also know my luck can run out at any given time. Breast cancer can return and metastasize years after initial treatments have completed. Tricky little fucker.
So I sit here today, amongst ghosts, pumpkins, and my overwatered mums, patently ignoring the pink monster and counting the moments until I can chase salt again.