There's a quirky little memory, that came back to me this week... on December 5th in 2009, waiting for the surgeon to perform the lumpectomy, I found myself reading an essay which questions the efficacy of mammograms in Malcolm Gladwell's What the Dog Saw. Memory is a funny thing, though. Maybe I read that essay January 6th 2010, waiting for the surgeon to perform the auxiliary node dissection. The point is, I've just learned that the auxiliary node dissection has been proven to have no benefit for the patient. That surgery caused me far more pain and trouble than the partial mastectomy and it wasn't necessary. I'm angry.
A few weeks ago, I joined the Shout Sisters for my first choral performance. It was fun. The audience enjoyed us more than anticipated. The event was a fundraiser for Breast Cancer Research in Gananoque. There were giant pink ribbons everywhere. We were asked to wear black, with a pink accessory. My choir buddy, Anna, didn't wear any pink. That was because she doesn't actually own anything pink. But on the drive home, I mentioned my vague discomfort with the whole pink-ribbon business.
"Well," she said, "I'm uncomfortable with it, too"
On she went to describe an interview she'd heard on the CBC. Turns out, there's a professor at Queen's who published a book called Pink Ribbons Inc. - Breast Cancer and the Politics of Philanthropy. So, you know, I got it from the library. Samantha King's book packs some major punches, and mostly reads like a doctoral thesis, but the information in it names many of the creepy issues stalking the pink ribbon campaign.
