Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Adventures of Pink Lady: Part I

I'd like to introduce you all to a good friend of mine -  Pink Lady -  as I have come to know her.  Or perhaps you know her by her full name, A Vision of Hope, part of the "Thomas Kinkade Inspirations of Hope Collection". She is the first figurine in the collection, to soon be followed by a spectre of lavendered loveliness called A Picture of Faith.  Apparently a portion of the sale proceeds of these figurines will be donated by their Creator to help fight breast cancer.  She and her pastelly-shaded friend retail for about $19.95 each.  But wait ! There's more ! This collection is limited to only 95 casting days  and each figurine is numbered.

So where am I going with this ?  There's so much material to work with here, especially for the likes of me, apparently living with my chronic case of cancer and feeling generally jaded and pissed off most of the time !  Ah but I digress: let's just start at the beginning shall we ?

I woke up with glee last Christmas to excitedly open the presents which had been collecting under our beautiful Christmas tree.  A mysterious box had arrived several days before addressed to me, and being a keeper of tradition, I diligently placed the unopened box under said Christmas tree along with various other boxes of all shapes and sizes.  (Work with me here people - I'm 38 years old, living with cancer - I need some childish excitement in my life !).  After tearing open all of my wonderful Christmas bounty, at last the mysterious box was before me and begging to be ripped open with all the energy of a five year old child hopped up on a keg of red creaming soda.  At last I opened the box and all was revealed.  

It was like the heavens opened, the sun shone down, angelic voices echoed in my ears, and there she lay.  In all her bedazzled pink lacy finery.  Such sculptural elegance and a body with a set of breasts so finely crafted,  she made Barbie look like a cheap whore.  My mind raced, my blood pressure increased with the excitement and emotion welled up in me.  Her beauty was unsurpassed, and as the tears rolled down my face, I knew that everything would be okay.  Because here she was in MY house.  A Vision of Hope. Edition #7783U.  Surely sent from heaven above (or maybe just China) to spread her message of love and devotion, and her commitment to a cause so just and noble, exemplified by the hidden pink ribbons in her elegant dress (how many can you find in the photograph ?).

Just by gazing upon her, I suddenly felt at ease and knew that all was not lost.  Even with two mastectomies, a bilateral oopherectomy, a shoulder that doesn't move, a nipple reconstruction, night sweats, hot flashes, chemo-damaged organs, radiation scarred tissue and a spirit sorely tested (but not broken), I realized at that moment that there dwelled inside me, nay all those touched by breast cancer, a Pink Lady who is ready to stand up and be counted and fight the war on cancer, all whilst dressed to the nines in an ankle-length pink frock.  And all this hope for the bargain price of $19.95.

Thank you Pink Lady #7783U.  I can't do it without you.  You inspire me to greatness.  As does the $0.000000001c (or thereabouts) that has been donated on my behalf for the simple act of purchasing you.

Further Reading:

Monday, July 27, 2009

Yeah Right !

So I have spent the best part of the last month abroad relaxing with family and friends and feeling really good and pretty darn normal. As always though it's nice to get home and sleep in your own bed and be surrounded by what you know.

Trouble is now, I seem to finding myself feeling a bit down. I think I am just starting to process the enormity of this last piece of crappy news which I guess is only natural but makes me want to just hibernate for a bit and not really talk to or see anybody. I have decided the best way to describe what I'm feeling is "emotional constipation". Having trouble articulating how I really feel about the whole situation and basically showing any emotion over it whatsoever. Some people call that being very brave. I just call it a bit of good old fashioned denial. I'll come to grips with it sooner or later, but not just willing at this point to waste a perfectly good summer on tears and fears. I think I'll take the metaphoric laxative after Labor Day.

So what better way to deal than to have a bit a of rant and rave on the old blog !

Recently I read an article in the New York Times by Gina Kolata entitled Grant System Leads Cancer Researchers to Play it Safe. The basic gist of the article is that cancer researches in the U.S. are increasingly only able to access grant money if their studies are judged by the grantor's to have a reasonable probability of success which, the article asserts, is stifling the chances of more radical and innovative research studies to the detriment of making any real progress on the war on cancer.

To be honest I'm not surprised at the findings of this article. If there is any chance of finding a cure for cancer, I don't believe it will come from a country where health care is basically a for-profit business run by corporate Gargantua's. What economic incentive could there possibly be in finding a cure for a disease that generates billions and billions of dollars in profits particularly for the U.S. health care industry. Can you imagine a world without cancer ? I wish I could but don't think it will happen in my lifetime. An entire subset of the health care machine just goes away ? Yeah right ! Poop to that: physically and emotionally.