Posted: April 2, 2013 Filed under: breast cancer, menopause | Tags: breast cancer, breast cancer awareness, HAWMC, tamoxifen, Tamoxifen side effects, WEGO Health
The WEGO HAWMC is quite a mouthful! WEGO Health describes itself as “social media’s most active online health community — Health Activists. These influencers, organizers, connectors, leaders and contributors are passionate about helping others lead healthier lives.” WEGO Health Activists have thrown out a challenge: the HAWMC, or Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge. It’s a post-a-day challenge taken on by several bloggers I greatly admire. One of them asked if I was planning to participate, so here we are.
I missed Day 1, so will start with Day 2, which is pretty scrambled logic for this Type-A girl, but part of the challenge is thinking — and blogging — outside of our comfort zones so I guess I’m in.
Introduce your condition to other Health Activists. What are 5 things you want them to know about your condition/activism?
Yikes. I hate to think of breast cancer as “a condition” but I suppose it is. I certainly don’t think of myself as an activist, but for these purposes I’ll assume I am.
Ok, so introducing y’all to breast cancer. Y’all, this is breast cancer. Breast cancer, this is y’all.
It’s safe to say that everyone knows about breast cancer, thanks to the pink-ribbon brigade, so on to the 5 things you need to know about breast cancer. Those who have it already know. Those who care for/care about someone who has it already know, too.
#1 — “Early detection is key.” Yes, and no. Early detection is important in that it can prevent breast cancer from spreading and progressing to a more complicated prognosis and a less favorable outcome. But it also leads to overtreatment and contributes to our skyrocketing health-care costs.
#2 — “Breast cancer is a “good” cancer. This is rather loaded. Yes, it is “good” in the sense that it occurs in a body part that is nonessential to sustaining life, and in a body part that can be removed, ostensibly also removing the cancer. But let’s face it, no cancer is a good cancer. And while have a lumpectomy or mastectomy is perhaps easier than removing a lung or other vital organ, the aftereffects for women are brutal, both physically and emotionally.
#3 — “Taking Tamoxifen every day for 5 years is a pretty easy way to manage the disease.” Tamoxifen is rough. Its side-effects are numerous, and even if a women suffers just one or two of those side-effects, they’re quite disruptive. And quite sucky. For those of us diagnosed before menopause, Tamoxifen fast-forwards us to the land of hot flashes, night sweats, mood swings, and other lovely challenges. Within days of starting my Tamoxifen, brown spots appeared on my face. My skin grew noticeably thinner while my body tried to grow fatter. My anxiety level soared while my endorphins crashed. Having to remember to take my little white pill every day stresses me out: taking it ensures these awful side-effects, but stopping it puts me at risk of recurrence. What part of this is easy??
#4 — “Your breasts don’t define you.”
True. Very true. This is true for all women, whether they have breast cancer or not. Huge strides have been made in women’s rights and it’s a wonderful thing that society “allows” us to be more than window dressing. But pick up any magazine and look at the ads or watch any random commercial or walk through any suburban grocery store and notice the boobs. They’re everywhere. And they’re big, round, and perky. If we aren’t defined by our boobs, then why is losing them so traumatic? If we aren’t defined by our boobs, then why do more than 300,000 women
a year in the United States undergo elective, cosmetic surgery to enhance their breasts?
# 5 — “Being diagnosed with cancer makes you stronger.” Perhaps in some ways it does. I am no longer afraid of needles after the bazillion shots and injections I’ve received, and can now give myself a shot if need be. I barely flinch when the phlebotomist pierces my skin with a wide-bore needle to extract a blood sample. I know that I can endure an awful lot — physically and mentally. But did I need to be diagnosed to become stronger? Doubtful. And that newly gained strength is a pittance compared to the things that cancer costs me — physically, mentally, and financially.