Reminded

Hello October

✅Reminded

Here it is again -
October with oranges, reds and golds of autumn leaves falling.
Previously I was sweater weather, hot cider and pumpkins gal.
Pink was a happy 365 color for me.
These days I step into the month with all the cautiousness of stepping into a cow field.
	
        Pink Power Perennial flower bulbs at Sam’s Club
        Cook for the Cure Kitchen Aid® cup grater
      pink on:
         Cascade® Extra Action dishwasher pacs
         AA Energizer® batteries
         Purina® Cat Chow
         a Terrible Towel® 
         long neck golf club head covers
         poker size Bicycle® playing cards
         a 36 ct canister of Paper Mate® Retractable Flex Grip Elite Ball point pens

Dodging pink ribbons is my October marathon,
running from the reminders of her death.

When your mother and maternal grandma have breast cancer mastectomies, it can feel like you have two cartoon style targets on your chest. Mammograms are more dreaded than dentist appointments and colonoscopy prep. Really.

When my mom was diagnosed, I was quite the cheerleader. With all the pink of October and all the awareness, I naively lived like breast cancer had been taken down, tackled, practically under control. When she died of metastasized breast cancer, I felt robbed. October became a reminder in the most unexpected spaces.

On one of my mammogram visits, my technician said people actually complain and say things like they’d rather deal with breast cancer than a mammogram. Perhaps they, like me, believed the world conquered breast cancer. The truly momentary pain of mammograms is way better than the pain I saw Mom go through with cancer. Those awful pharmaceutical commercials do not help. They show women doing normal activities with metastasized breast cancer. My husband has learned to mute, change the channel, or fast forward through them before I start a tirade on the deceit being marketed.

There is so much more that could be done to make mammograms better. I envision mammogram parties where the Mamo-Van comes and parks outside. It starts with friends, fun beverages, Kentucky Derby level hats or crowns, noise makers, maybe costumes and wigs, feather boas, upbeat music, and a women’s comedy after-lounge. The Mamo-Van could come to church parking lots, neighborhoods… everywhere… so every woman got a mammogram, and early detection becomes the majority.

Mammograms after Mom died were hard, as are Octobers and birthdays, and anniversaries, and holidays. It was my cousin who said we get mammograms to be proactive. So I do. To honor her and to do better. If she had gone regularly, things would be different. I also push and remind everyone to get mammograms yearly. You have to live while you can. I miss Mom: my first confidant, reading buddy, the one who laughed at my jokes, who smiled when she saw me, she who introduced me to museums, who always listened, and Mom hugs. I ask you to please remind your moms, aunts, nieces, cousins, sisters, and friends to get mammograms. Do not accept excuses. Get your mammogram on a regular basis.

As for me, I don’t need to be reminded. I can’t forget

Having some fun in purple for one of Mom’s doc appointments.