save the ta tas!

In February this year my mom was diagnosed with Stage 1 breast cancer.  It's a huge relief for me to write that for two reasons: 1) though prose probably isn't my strongest suit, I am a writer; 2) one of the pillars of my own mental health is telling the truth. 

My mom, rightly, asked me not to blog about her diagnosis, treatment, etc, until she felt she had a good handle on the situation herself.  She gave me permission to write about this over the weekend, and I am grateful to her to allow me to share a little of her story and also my story as her daughter.

First the news:  my mom's prognosis is very good - Stage 1 is early and one of her docs said, "your mammogram saved your life."  So, ladies, don't avoid it  - go get your mammogram!  The type of cancer my mom had was an aggressive type, though, so her treatment team is being aggressive - she has had radiation and chemotherapy (she's still undergoing chemo) and a lumpectomy.  In the end, all signs point to long term health for my mom. 

So, I could blog a lot about what I've learned this Spring, the medical system pros and cons, the emotional impact this has had on me, but I think I'll revisit that another time  - what I'd like to write about is my family's participation in Race for the Cure in St. Louis this past Saturday and what that looked like and meant to me. 

My husband and kids and I drove downtown on Saturday morning at 7:30 to join the almost 70,000 people to 'race' for the cure (as you can imagine, with that many people within the 3 mile route in downtown St. Louis, there's little 'racing.') You know, in life it's easy to become cynical about and disappointed in human nature.  I often think of the movie, The "Princess Bride", when Wesley says to Buttercup, "Life is not fair, Highness, and anyone who tells you differently is selling you something."   It's for sure that cancer is not fair.  But, to see nearly 70,000 women, men, children, black people, while people, survivors, every type of person, really, getting together and essentially celebrating women they love  (some they have loved and lost), peacably, amicably, and with great good humor - oh my gosh - it was amazing!  It touched me and made me hopeful not just about curing cancer, but about fighting the cancer of cynicism, prejudice, ignorance, and hate.

I'd blogged previously about some of the ways it concerns me that women's bodies are not as valued as they should be.  This was the absolute counter to that.  There couldn't be a more wholesome, sweet celebration of boobs!   Again, I feel hopeful.

I think it is the Dalai Lama who suggests that hope is not very useful because it indicates that we are attached to an outcome.  I try to learn all I can from every smart and holy person who is available to me, so I try to really feel what he says.   But, for better or worse, I still attach to some outcomes; I am attached to my hope right now!  Hoping for good health for my mom, and all people.  Hoping for our doctors and researchers to find good treatments and cures for cancers.  Hoping for more opportunities to celebrate in my community.  Less fear, more love!  I hope for that.