Poetry Friday

Amber

Eavan Boland

It never mattered that there was once a vast grieving:

trees on their hillsides, in their groves, weeping—
a plastic gold dropping

through seasons and centuries to the ground—
until now.

On this fine September afternoon from which you are absent
I am holding, as if my hand could store it,
an ornament of amber

you once gave me.

Reason says this:
The dead cannot see the living.
The living will never see the dead again.

The clear air we need to find each other in is
gone forever, yet

this resin once
collected seeds, leaves and even small feathers as it fell
and fell

which now in a sunny atmosphere seem as alive as
they ever were

as though the past could be present and memory itself
a Baltic honey—

a chafing at the edges of the seen, a showing off of just how much
can be kept safe

inside a flawed translucence.

Now what?

Tuesday was my first day home alone of the school year and it was intimidating.  A childhood story came to mind.

I remember being on the Dodge'ems at the amusement park.  It might have been the first time I ever drove alone.  The cars started out in that huge blobby amoeba shape where no one could budge.  One by one, from the outside in, cars and kids began freeing themselves.  I decided on a defensive strategy; unwilling to embrace my aggression I was a little uncomfortable with running into other cars so I decided to avoid being hit instead.  Apparently I was lucky or showed natural talents for escape because soon I found myself alone on the other side of the track, looking back at the blobby amoeba.  "What do I do now?" was in my mind.  If I go back around the track I'll be sure to be hit.  If I just sit here, that's not much fun.  So I kept moving forward and somehow sneaked past the crowd on the inside track.  There I was alone again and before I could hatch a new plan, the ride was over.  

Here I sit at my writing desk, wondering what's next.  A line that has shown up twice in the last week in different places is "meet your success halfway."  I'd love to, if I could just figure out which direction to run.  

While my life has been peppered with existential crises, this may be the first time it's all really been in my hands.  I worked full time before the kids were born, then it was the early kid years.  In 2007, the first year both kids were in school full time, I worked while they were gone.  This time of year in 2008 I was descending into cancer hades and last year I was climbing out.  This year it's all up to me.  

I feel like this game has high stakes too, like I'd better get it right.  The pressure of no do-overs is beating me into submission, or perhaps inaction and distraction.  I remind myself often and most of me believes that there isn't one True path.  In fact, in my world there are very few True anythings.  

Complicating my paralysis is my expectation that I would blossom when my time was self-directed.  For school and career decades I lamented my lack of time to pursue my passions.  Be careful what you wish for, I suppose.  I am disappointed in myself for feeling lost rather than empowered when I don't have an outside force dictating the details of my life.  

I understand that this is a time of transition and more importantly, how lucky I am to have both the internal capability and the external support to deliberately chose my path.  It's just so darned intimidating with all of those choices.  

So how do you fill up your free time?  Do you lament the lack of time to pursue your passions?  What would you do if you just had the time?  

I'll leave you with a quote that hasn't been far from my mind since the first time I heard it as a teenager.  

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. 

Henry David Thoreau

Milking Cancer

I had an opportunity to talk to some women from Breast Cancer Action during an online press conference on Tuesday.  From now through September 24th, they are working with other organizations on the MILKING CANCER campaign.

Eli Lilly is the sole manufacturer of rBGH (recombinant bovine growth hormone), an artificial hormone given to dairy cows.  Cows treated with this hormone pass along Insulin-like Growth Factor 1 (IGF-1) which has been linked to an increased risk of breast cancer.  Also, the hormone causes an infection called mastitis, leading to the cow being treated with antibiotics.

To complete the cancer loop, Eli Lilly also sells a drug that helps prevent cancer in women with high risk and a drug used to treat cancer.  According to BCA, it's an all around money-maker:

Eli Lilly’s cancer drugs made $2,683,000,000 for the company in 2008. Its potentially carcinogenic dairy hormone made $985,000,000 in the same year.

rBGH has been banned in the EU, Canada, Japan and Australia.  BCA started this campaign last year, educating thousands and organizing a postcard campaign.

Eli Lilly did not respond, interpreted by many as a slap in the face.  As Executive Director Barbara Brenner said during the press conference, "Silence has killed people for too long."

This year, they are launching an online petition drive.  Their goal is to gather 6,220 signatures, a number that equals the days rBGH has been on the market.  BCA has successfully lobbied Yoplait to remove the hormone from their products and soon Dannon followed suit.  Since my diagnosis in 2008, I have become particularly aware of food additives, both for my own health and for how they affect my children.

These types of actions can be effective, but only if we participate.

Please visit the BCA's action website, THINK BEFORE YOU PINK to sign the petition.  Also, if you can mention it on your blog, facebook or twitter (#milkingcancer), you can make a difference.

Single dose radiation

A study was released earlier this summer regarding the effectiveness of single dose radiation.  As some perspective, women with breast cancer are usually given radiation after the removal of a lump.  While chemotherapy is a systemic therapy that kills all fast growing cells, radiation therapy targets the cells in a specific area of the body.  I received radiation treatment after my mastectomy because of the size of the original tumor and lymph node involvement.  Radiation usually goes on for 25 - 28 treatments, one per day with weekends off.  The side effects vary by person but can include fatigue, burned skin, depression and pain.  I got them all, perhaps as some sort of cosmic balance for my chemotherapy tolerance.  There are more serious long term side effects like heart and lung damage and increased risk of another cancer.

In this study, a dose of radiation is given to the tumor site during surgery and the outcomes are similar to the traditional radiation approach and the side effects are reduced.  This may be important to women who forgo radiation because of their lack of daily access to a cancer center.  There are some limitations to the study, as noted by Dr. Love in the link.

One drawback of this study is that the women have only been followed for about four years. However, most local recurrences occur within two-to-three years after surgery, so the study participants have certainly passed that hurdle. Still, as the researchers point out, they will need to follow these women longer to determine whether those who had the single dose of radiation are more likely to have a new primary tumor occur in another area of the breast or a delayed recurrence in the same area.

Intrabeam is not an option for everyone. It requires specialized equipment that is not available at all hospitals. In addition, it was only given in selected situations. It was not given to women who had lobular breast cancer or to women who had cancer in more that one area of their breast. We also have to remember that the study findings apply to the types of tumors treated in this study: 86% were smaller than 2cm, 90% were hormone-sensitive, and 83% had no node involvement.

So it's certainly promising information for those looking to reduce the side effects of cancer treatment but, as Dr Love points out, it's important to understand the scope of such studies.

More cause marketing examples

As we careen toward October, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I've decided to start a file of questionable uses of the pink ribbon.  First a disclaimer: This is not a black and white situation to me.  Many of the organizations I'll mention have been important to lots of people.  I am not condemning any of them, nor the people who support them.  I am simply trying to help you look with a critical eye; to realize that companies know that breast cancer leaves us all feeling helpless; to dig a little deeper.

On facebook, I receive notifications from the Young Survival Coalition.  The announced the other day a program from Veronica Brett -- they are offering new mastectomy swim wear and will donate 10% of online purchases In July and August to YSC.  I clicked the link and saw that their swimsuits sell for $200!  If you read on the facebook page, you'll see that I spoke up immediately.  Speaking from experience, swim wear after a mastectomy sans reconstruction and sans prosthetics is a challenge.  Few places sell them, even fewer sell ones that anyone under age 70 would wear so I expect them to be a little bit pricey.  But I can't think of a person who could or would pay that kind of money and the $20 to YSC is no incentive.

I clipped this one out of the coupon section the other day.  The Hamilton Collection presents Hop for Hope.

Please note the verbiage that comes after the pink ribbon:

A portion of the proceeds from this figurine will be donated to help fight breast cancer.

On their website, it says this:

Hope Hops Here Figurine

Limited-edition glass frog has pink face and back with hand-painted spots, pink awareness ribbon. Portion of proceeds supports breast cancer research.

Measures 2-1/2" H

The figurine sells for $24.99 + $7.99 shipping and handling.  The problem, as I see it, is that it doesn't say how much will be donated, nor does it say who the beneficiary of the donation will be.  

When I was at Kroger the other day, I picked up some cat litter.  I was immediately attracted to the cat litter with the pink ribbon on it and since it was the same price, I purchased it and brought it home to photograph it.

I peeled the label and here's what it said on the back:

So, basically, they were just telling us that they support breast cancer.  Without reading the back of the label, you might believe that your purchase is helping the cause.  Oh, and, it doesn't say how much it donated and to whom.  

To me, the question to ask is... Who is really getting the benefit here?

Poetry Friday

Sorry for the spotty posting this week.  Turns out Mama needs to adjust to the back to school schedule too.

As summer fades into fall, I always get a little nostalgic.  I put this poem on an ezine I made for WWFC this week, but I love it so much I'm putting it here too.

The Faces of Children

~Elizabeth Spires

Meeting old friends after a long time, we see
with surprise how they have changed, and must imagine,
despite the mirror's lies, that change is upon us, too.

Once, in our twenties, we thought we would never die.
Now, as one thoughtlessly shuffles a deck of cards,
we have run through half our lives.

The afternoon has vanished, the evening changing
us into four shadows mildly talking on a porch.
And as we talk, we listen to the children play

the games that we played once. In joy and terror,
they cry out in surprise as the seeker finds the one in hiding,
or, in fairytale tableau, each one is tapped and turned

to stone. The lawn is full of breathing statues who wait
to be changed back again, and we can do nothing but stand
to one side of our children's games, our children's lives.

We are the conjurors who take away all pain,
and we are the ones who cannot take away the pain at all.
They do not ask, as lately we have asked ourselves

Who was I then? And what must I become?
Like newly minted coins, their faces catch what light
there is. They are so sure of us, more sure

than we are of ourselves. Our children: who gently
push us toward the end of our own lives. The future
beckons brightly. They trust us to lead them there.

Cause marketing

Yesterday I mentioned pinkwashing.  Serendipitously, NPR ran a story today about cause marketing,  corporations that team up with non-profits.  Here's an interesting quote from the story:

Studies by business professors at Duke and Michigan have found that "cause-related marketing" often profits the companies who participate in disease awareness campaigns as much or more than the charities they are supporting.

"It's now very much transformed into a corporate venture and a merchandising opportunity," says Angela Wall, spokeswoman for Breast Cancer Action, an advocacy group based in San Francisco. "People are buying stuff that's pink, thinking it's going to a good cause, but because there's no copyright on the pink ribbon it can be slapped onto any product."

On one hand, as the story points out, these awareness campaigns have destigmatized diseases and tragedies.  Amazingly, according to the article, not so long ago cancer was so shameful that patients weren't even told.  I suspect that I have benefited from such raised awareness.  However, the spate of pink ribbons that crop up in October leave me with an ick factor that I have written about before.

Here is a recent example.

During part of the month of August, Cedar Fair's Kings Island ran a fundraiser for the Komen Foundation.  Yesterday they presented the infamous giant checks for $185,000; certainly not peanuts.  But here's how they raised the money.  Ticket prices were discounted  -- you can buy them online for $34.99 and at the gate they are $49.99.  During this promotion, you could get a ticket for $29.99 and $1 of the ticket price was donated to Komen.

$1.

3%.


Also, you could buy a pink rubber duck and throw it into their reflecting pool.  At the end of the Chuck a Duck promotion one duck is drawn and the purchaser won a Toyota Yaris.  $5 per duck.  I asked Komen at the beginning what they were going to do with the ducks, ready to be irate about the addition to our landfills, but they said that the ducks will be reused next year.  Of course, I didn't ask and don't know what how or where the ducks were made and admittedly, this gal could drive herself nuts overthinking this.

At some point, awareness becomes inadequate.  I am not disrespecting the good that has come from it, nor the pure intentions of people throwing their support toward it.  I am saying that we need to move beyond chucking ducks and slaps on the back of support.

Nothing drives this point home better than that picture on Kings Island's home page.  The young woman pictured in the pink wig died this year of breast cancer at age 32, leaving behind a grieving husband and a four year old daughter.  All the awareness and pink ducks in the world didn't save her.